#Also I’m giving you this as a present while we wait for ao3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emotionalsupport-ljh · 4 months ago

Text

💎Treasure💎

The night just gets better and better.

Smut - woozi x fem!reader

Just wait til I pull the uno reverse 😈😈😈

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.9k

CW: pwp, anal(f!recieving), analingus (f!rec.), fingering, cunnilingus, some anxiety and comfort for flavor

˚⟡⊰⋆:💎:⋆⊱⟡˚⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨🍑୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆˚⟡⊰⋆:💎:⋆⊱⟡˚

Your ears are still ringing as you enter the cool black SUV parked outside of one of the side doors meant for talent. Your boyfriend, Jihoon, accompanies you with a hand placed on your lower back, guiding you into the vehicle. The chauffeur takes off down a road lined with tall buildings and bright shining lights while Jihoon begins talking a mile a minute. He’s ecstatic because you got him tickets to his favorite artist, Bruno Mars, complete with backstage passes and VIP treatment. He acted cool when you gifted it to him months ago for your anniversary, but now, he’s practically jumping up and down with joy after seeing the show. He can’t even stay still in his seat, telling you his favorite parts of the concert and how cool Bruno was in real life.

“I can’t believe I got a signed album!”

“Yeah, it’s so cool! I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smile and think about how much he deserved a break from his schedule for this little vacation.

“What was your favorite part because mine was when-” and he continues to describe the concert that you also went to while you look at him fondly.

You worked with his manager in secret to schedule along with his time off, making sure the show wasn’t in the middle of comeback season. There was one long weekend available, but the show was in Japan, so you decided to make a whole trip out of it. A nice hotel in Tokyo, some touristy sightseeing, a concert, and food, of course, all made for a wonderful getaway and perfect present for the busiest man on the planet. That alone is a great gift from the perfect girlfriend, but the night isn’t over yet, and you still have some surprises up your sleeve.

He finishes his long recollection that was fueled by barely one breath, forgetting that conversations are usually two-sided. He's dazed with a look of pure amazement stuck on his face. To get him back to reality, you begin to entice him with the next phase of your perfect gift master plan. “I still have one last present to give you,” you tease, meeting his eyes which were the size of the moon and twice as bright, “but you have to wait until we get back to the hotel.” You punctuate the sentence with a playful wink.

His face softens as he says, “You have already done so much for me, babe. You can’t top yourself, honestly, and you don’t have to.” He leans over and chances a soft kiss on your cheek, not wanting to show too much PDA in front of the driver whose focus was on the road ahead of him. You shift around in your seat, partially due to the excitement building in your chest for his reaction to your final gift and partially for another reason.

The driver pulls up to the glass doors of the hotel, steps out of the car, and opens the door for you both. Jihoon hops out first and reaches for your hand to help you as you awkwardly start to slide following him. He has been so excited all day that he didn’t notice the extra few minutes you took in the bathroom getting ready for the show. He didn’t notice how you awkwardly fidgeted in your seat waiting for the show to start. You let out a small laugh to yourself that also goes unnoticed.

Once the doors shut to the elevator, finally creating some privacy from a crowd of thousands of eyes, Jihoon’s hand drops inside of the back pocket of your jeans and squeezes your ass. Ironic.

“Can I assume that the final present has something to do with me getting to have your body all night?” he says way too calmly in that dark voice he gets when he’s horny. His hand is subtly kneading the handful of flesh.

“Maybe,” you answer. Your eyelids lower and lips suddenly meet your neck in kisses light as a feather that only leaves you wanting more. Between packing, going over the itinerary, and double checking all tickets and reservations, the two of you hadn’t had much time to do anything intimate. You’re sure, however, that the wait will only contribute to the evening you have planned.

The elevator opens and you both make it to your room still somehow fully clothed. Jihoon’s hand never leaves your back pocket, even when he takes the keycard from his wallet to open the door. Once inside, your hands find their way under his baggy t-shirt, slowly mapping muscles until you are pulling it up and off of his body. You leave your shoes at the door and move closer to the bed, beckoning him to follow.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one getting a present.” Jihoon chuckled, surprised by how eager you were.

“I’m just getting you ready to unwrap it.” You take a few steps back until the back of your knees hit the plush white sheets of the bed. Jihoon follows you and places his hands on the button of your jeans and achingly slowly undoes them and helps you shimmy them off. His first surprise is that you are, in fact, specially wrapped. He quickly pulls your shirt off to discover a full new set of red lace lingerie with ruby red rhinestones beaded throughout the piece, giving the outfit a sexy sparkle.

“Well that wrapping is just too pretty,” he replies, biting his lip. His eyes rake over your form that’s wrapped in his favorite color. “I might want you to keep it on.” He gets close, and, in an instant, your lips collide in a hungry kiss. His hands roam up and down, stroking the lace slowly making you shiver as the light touches glide over your most sensitive areas. A hand goes to cup you underneath and rub you slowly up and down.

When the lips find your neck again, kissing, licking, and sucking right under your jaw, you breathe out, “Honey, trust me, you’ll want to unwrap your present.”

Jihoon moves to sucking the exposed parts of your breasts and looks up at you through his eyelashes. Those eyes have an innocent curiosity in them that makes you feel like you're on top of the world. Wordlessly, you detach your boyfriend from your chest with a wet pop, and sit on the bed. His eyes follow you as you scoot back until you are poised in the middle of the bed. Even just the simple sight of you moving seductively has Jihoon hot and getting hotter. His hand reaches to palm his stiffening cock through his pants. You bite your bottom lip and enjoy watching him as he slides off one layer of fabric. Following his movements, you remove your bra and take a nipple between your fingers while staring at him. Seeing the gorgeous tent in his underwear just makes you more excited. Shivers of anticipation slide down your spine as he crawls his way to you on the bed.

“Go ahead,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows,” unwrap your present.”

Slowly, Jihoon hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and drags them down. He makes eye contact the whole time until you start to spread your legs wide for him to see everything. His gaze falls down to where you have revealed your gift to your hardworking, dedicated, super sexy boyfriend. A red jewel comfortably sits, decorating your ass like it's a royal treasure. A plug is snug in your hole keeping you stretched and ready for the evening ahead.

Jihoon’s eyes fly open wide as he realizes the implication of the plug. He reaches to grab your thighs and folds your legs to get a better look. He places one leg on his shoulder to free his hand to spread your cheeks open and thumb around the jewel.

“Did you have this inside the whole time? Like even during the concert?” he asks, surprised. You nod excitedly. “This…” He’s mesmerized by the way the jewel shines in the dim light. By how your body just moves according to any of his whims. By the strain in your face as he touches you in that way that makes you so needy for him. By the way your mind works to craft perfect presents for him. “This beats the concert. By far.”

You remember all the times Jihoon’s mouth ventured a little too far past your wet hole to the tight ring of muscle below it. You remember how you had to slap him away and scold him because you weren’t prepared and wanted to do it right if you ever decided to do it. You remember all the times he’s taken you from behind and teased your ass with his hard dick, rubbing the tip against it, or his fingers which longed to find their way inside. He had been denied time and time again, but now, you were willing and very ready to have him explore a new part of you.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” you say as you reach to press the jewel. Jihoon watches intently as you teasingly pull at it just a little just to push it back inside. His lips are parted and you swear he’s breathing through his mouth and trying not to drool. The motion makes his cock twitch, and he’s resisting the urge to cum just from watching you. A few soft moans slip from your lips when Jihoon’s fingers begin to move again, rubbing at your rim then subtly trying to dip in with the plug.

You only feel a moment of discomfort as he tries this, but you don’t let it show. Instead, your hand meets his and guides it to grab at the jewel decorating your entrance. He pumps it in and out a few times, which you encourage with a sharp inhale and a sensual mewl. He braves to begin removing the plug at a snail’s pace, watching as the round base stretches you in a way that almost makes him drool. Your face contorts a bit at that part as you are still unfamiliar with the sensation of the thickest parts of it.

Jihoon stalls his movements when he glances at your face. “Are you okay? Am I going too fast?” His concern is genuine and comforting. He doesn’t want to mess up or hurt you somehow, afraid it might cause this sexual experience to be a one time endeavor. You move to get a little more comfortable, taking your leg off of his shoulder and grabbing a pillow to prop under your lower back.

“I’m okay,” you laugh, “Don’t worry.”

“You know I’m thicker than this,” Jihoon says, continuing his careful removal of the plug. The largest part passes, sloping to its smaller tip. Jihoon takes a moment to examine the object. It’s smaller than what he expected, but its size makes sense for easing a beginner.

“I know,” you swallow with anticipation.

“And I’m much longer,” he says more teasingly. He discards the plug and grabs at your butt, spreading the cheeks and taking a look at his real treasure left behind. The sight of your stretched, blushy hole makes his heartbeat quicken, pumping all the blood in his brain straight to his dick.

“I know.” You can see his eyes and how they are stuck. You’re slick, both from the wet mess of your pussy from all the dirty talk and anal play and from the copious amount of lube now visible from your glistening asshole.

Jihoon chuckles, “You really wanted to be prepared, didn’t you?” He’s dipping the tip of his finger inside the wet muscle, testing the waters and feeling the soft walls of the inside. There’s more lube than there needed to be for the plug but not enough for more than one finger to make it inside without the dry sting of skin dragging against skin.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to feel it at all. If it hurt, I wouldn’t have done any of this. Ever.” You gasp when he slides his full pointer into you. He exaggerates a pout on his lips before leaning in to kiss you once on the lips.

“Then,” he starts while pumping his finger, “I better do this right.” He takes a moment to glance around the room then asks you where the lube is. You point him to your bag and he retrieves it quickly. Before fully returning to the bed, he pulls down his underwear revealing his hard cock now red and soaked in precum.

You know what it looks like, you’ve seen it many, many times. But now, even after the warnings you thought were kind of silly, it looks somehow more daunting. You are determined, however, to see your plan all the way through, and, most importantly, you trust your boyfriend not to hurt you. So far, he had been so slow and careful, even at the expense of delaying his own pleasure. He doesn’t show any discomfort on his face from being so hard and not getting much relief. It’s a testament to how committed he is to making you feel comfortable, even though it’s his present.

Jihoon crawls toward you and takes his place between your legs again. With a pop, the lid to the small bottle opens and the viscous lube is spread around three of his fingers. He coats them all thoroughly. He leans in again to kiss you, his tongue seeks entrance. You melt into him and barely register the first finger entering. It’s a familiar feeling as it pokes and prods around inside. Soon, a second finger joins. That one, you feel. The stretch is not unlike the plug. Because it was in for so long, you had gotten used to it, even starting to find it pleasurable when it moved.

You moan as the third finger finally makes its way inside and moves alongside the other two. The moment that last finger starts to breach the entrance, Jihoon has his other hand working on your clit, to make sure you feel good while adjusting. His fingers dig into the sensitive bud as he spreads the three fingers. He watches as you drip from your pussy.

“God, you’re beautiful, baby.” He removes his fingers from your hole and grabs your waist. “I want you on your knees, okay?”

You let him move you for the most part, liking the way he takes command and manipulates your body into position with his strong hands and arms. Your elbows meet the pillow that was once on your back and you decide to lay on it, cuddling it close and arching lower into the bed providing you boyfriend a perfect view.

“Good girl,” he growls before his lips meet one of the soft flesh of your ass. He kisses and licks and sucks until a red hickey appears on your otherwise pure and unmarked flesh. He moves to kiss at your stretched hole, taking chances to dip the tip of his tongue inside. You’re so turned on from the dirty act. Jihoon is relishing in the fact that he can finally follow through on all of the fantasies he’s had about your backside. Fingers, tongue, and finally his hard cock can now experience the feeling of your tight hole around them. Your moans encourage him to go further, tasting the new, fresh, and clean walls that were once forbidden for him. He’s enjoying himself and taking his time, but he puts a finger in your very wet pussy and moves it the way you like, instantly finding that spot that riles you up and tires you out. He just knows you so well.

When the ache in his dick just is too much to bear, Jihoon pulls away from your hole with one last kiss, wipes his face with the back of his hand, and coats his cock in a liberal amount of lube. You tense up a bit when you hear the cap of the bottle again and then the wet sounds of him stroking his cock, making sure to thoroughly coat the whole thing. He teasingly slides it between your cheeks and groans into a thrust, using his hands to hold them together.

“Are you ready, baby?” he says, his voice low in his chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and hum your approval rather than talking. You are excited and want him to just do it already, but you can’t shake all of the fear and anxiety about the new experience.

Jihoon grabs your hips. He sees that your hands are gripping the pillow beneath you tightly and your eyes are shut. He rubs his thumb in soothing circles and says in a much gentler voice, “Please let me know that you still want to do this. I’m happy to get off any other way, and what you’ve given me so far has been amazing already.”

Your perfect boyfriend’s willingness to give up the climax of his perfect present brought you back to Earth from the anxiety spiraling in your head. You turn your head to look at him from your vulnerable and intimate position to reassure him. “I do! I really want to do this! I just got nervous is all. Please, Ji, I want you so badly.” You bring the mood back by wiggling your butt to bring his attention to it and tease him a little.

“Good,” he breathes out relieved, “You know I never want to hurt you. I love you, baby.”

You don’t have a chance to respond because he slides his blunt, thick tip past the ring of muscle and so torturously slowly pushes just the head in. Instead, you just gasp into moaning desperately clawing at the pillow under you. Something about it being more than just his fingers, more than some toy, sends tingles through your spine. He’s making noise behind you and straining not to cum immediately. You urge him to do more, then he pushes his shaft in, inch by solid inch. The warmth and tightness is killing him and he has to pause multiple times to regain his composure. It’s a miracle he hasn’t let it all go, but he powers through with a death grip on your hips that will no doubt leave fingertip size marks.

When he finally bottoms out, you're both panting, taking in air like you forgot how to breathe. You settle into the feeling of being so full in your ass. The sting of his fingers digging into your flesh is the cherry on top of all that you are feeling. It reminds you of his absolute dominance and power over you. You would do anything in the world for him, and he knows that.

“How do you feel? Talk to me, baby.” Jihoon sounds almost desperate.

“Good,” you mewl out, “Go ahead; you can move.”

The grip on you softens, but still maintains its power in moving you along with his careful thrusts. Jihoon pulls out almost all the way and fucks his way back in leisurely. His pace turns rhythmic and his hips meet your ass in a clap like gentle applause. He bends forward, overwhelmed by the perfect fit of his cock inside of you. His choked moans drift into the air. He brings one hand to meet your clit, rubbing in circles. What were once staccato breaths turn into long whines that make Jihoon move his hands and hips faster.

Jihoon watches the ring of muscles as it swallows his full length over and over again. He’s becoming overstimulated by the whole experience, every movement and sound going straight to his cock. He lifts the hand not working on pleasuring your pussy and gives your ass a slap then holds on tight to the flesh. Your surprised gasp that turns into a high pitched moan encourages him to do it one more time. He fucks into you harder, relishing in the sight of the flesh beneath him jiggling.

“Shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he says in a strained voice like he’s trying to hold out just a little longer.

“Cum for me. Cum on my ass,” you beg for his release. It all felt very good, especially his fingers giving your clit special attention, but you were also ready for his focus to be on your release. Normally, he let you come first and often, but tonight was all about him. He obviously won’t let it be for long, but for now, he listens and lets go of all of his stubborn resolve.

An emptiness sets in your bones as Jihoon pulls out, leaving you gaping and twitching. He strokes himself until long ribbons of milky white splatter on your backside. Stars accumulate in his eyes, and he almost screams out his moans. If either of you were in a clearer state of mind, you would be worried about being in a hotel where other people could potentially hear you. But nothing else in the world matters more to Jihoon than watching his now cum-covered girlfriend’s gaping hole.

Though he’s spent, Jihoon bends down to once again lay kisses on your ass. He pecks at the red marks left by his tight grip and spanking, making sure the pain doesn’t linger on your skin. He kisses your bright red hole as the gape closes. Finally, he makes his way to kiss your dripping wet pussy. You scoot back toward the sensation of his lips parting to let his tongue lay flat inside your labia to lap up all the liquid pleasure still dripping from your cunt. His hand returns to its spot on your clit as he eats you out from behind to ensure that you finish just as explosively as he did.

“Please, cum for me, pretty girl,” he whispers before pumping his tongue inside of you. Your face twists in satisfaction from finally getting stimulation inside of your pussy. He pokes and prods his tongue at your walls until you convulse on his mouth, and scream into the pillow beneath you. You collapse onto your side, panting and very tired. Jihoon crawls lazily up the bed until he’s pressing himself to your back, and his arms capture you in a comforting embrace. You use the last of your strength to turn to face him, bringing your hands up to cup his face and kiss all over it.

“You never said it back.” Jihoon’s gaze pierces through you. You look at him confused. “I said that I love you, and you didn’t say it back.” He puffs out his cheeks cutely and pouts, looking way too innocent for a man who just fucked you into oblivion.

You giggle at how ridiculous it is that your boyfriend could be so breathtakingly sexy and cool ninety-nine percent of the time, but when it came to reciprocating an “I love you”, aegyo was suddenly his favorite tool to use. “I love you, too, Jihoon.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, pretending to be cool again. He brings you into a kiss again, and you feel like you could die in this moment and be perfectly content. It was a fun experience and you are very happy that Jihoon enjoyed himself while exploring the previously untouched part of you. You do, however, find yourself wondering for even just a second what it would be like if the roles were reversed. You save that thought in the dirty vault in your mind and just enjoy being in Jihoon’s arms.

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f-imaginings · 8 days ago

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I need more billford content from you! SO BADLY! I remember you mentioning that you’re working on some sequels. Can you give us like a sneak peek or do you have any writings you did of them? Or is there any fics that you read that you enjoy? It’s just you write them so well, it’s kinda hard to find other works similar to yours. Basically I’m STARVING

Hi lovely,

Your comment is so lovely I reread it a bunch before deciding to reply today with links and all the good stuff.

I have given the majority of the sequel sneak peaks I can afford to give yesterday, so we'll have to wait until KMKY is finished for more sequel goodness, I only caved yesterday bc it was my birthday and I love giving presents.

What I can do is link some old answers to various gravity falls writing prompts I've done before on my blog, and recommend some of my fanfics in other fandoms to tide you over.

I'm working as hard as I can to get the next chapter ready for you, so hopefully it will be ready after xmas or in early jan, and we literally have the roadside attraction chapter, Dipper and Mabel vs the Future and Weirdmageddon to go and then its the end of KMKY!

I'll be plotting and organising the timeline for ITBICD (It's The Best I Can Do or KMKY 2 electric boogaloo lmao) during this time too so hopefully I can launch straight into it after the final chapter of KMKY is posted!

So here are the links:

Shailesh and Jolene bounty hunter romance short

Fiddleford went home for thanksgiving, here's what Bill and Ford did

Down in the bunker Stanford sexperiments on Bill

Stanford psychoanalyses Bill with an old psychology textbook

For those who haven't read it yet, there was a uptilnow unpublished sex scene from KMKY that has recently gone up on AO3 here

Not from KMKY but an AU where Stanford becomes dependent on percepshrooms instead of Bill for his successes

A half baked Supernatural Billford AU bc I was a nerd haha

If you're keen to explore other fandom fics I've written, I have a murder mystery FMAB AU for folks who loved fullmetal alchemist that I'm pretty proud of.

For people who like the spooky side of Billford I have a half finished Magnus Archives AU fic too that sort of predicted the Jon in a computer part of The Magnus Protocol (I am cursed with the gift of prophecy)

For fanfic recommendations I haven't had the chance to read a lot of Billford fanfic since I tried not to read others fics while working on KMKY (there were a few notable exceptions, Theseus's Guide by @stump-not-found slaps (its fun, well paced and zany!) and I read Statement Abnegation (dark and gritty, not sure I was a fan of the ending since I like Ford to have more agency but for a dark fic it went places) since it was recommended to me. I also enjoyed A Postcard from New Mexico by roseverdict (an excellent concept and nice Stan brothers bonding) that I felt compelled to read)

If you don't mind other fandoms, I'll link my ao3 bookmarks of other stories I loved. There's a lot of batman, magnus archives, star trek, the locked tomb, miraculous ladybug, witcher, thor, rise of the guardians and homestuck (because we all had that phase, don't lie) and the list isn't very long, just some fics I like rereading there.

I hope this helps! I'm working hard on the next chapter so there will be more content for you soon, plus there's always a good reread as a backup option, and the wonders of maladaptive daydreaming haha!

If people want to add their own recommendations to this for fanfic recs please do in the reblogs!

#knowing me knowing you #kmky #billford #hopefully this helps #feel free to add your own recommendations to the list folks!#and now all the little offshoot extras are all in the same place #my writing

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starkerscoop · 26 days ago

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Hi!! Au interviewer Peter and regular Tony, Peter has to interview Tony on stark industries projects and what not, all while Tony is just thinking about how hot Peter is, then at the end of the interview Peter asks about Tony’s love life for “the ladies wondering” and Tony is just so attracted to Peter, that he asks him on a date, and they go from there! *I really want you to just build off of this!* (I love your blog!!)

Hi! (Thank you so much!!!) I know you sent this a while ago, so I'm sorry for the delay, but here it is :)

also on ao3

When Pepper mentioned that Tony hadn’t been to an interview in a while, he’d sighed and resigned himself to attending another invasive interrogation that made him want to jump from the roof of his own tower.

He never expected that an interview could change his life so drastically. For the better, even.

Tony had groaned and whined with the force of a toddler denied candy, refusing to leave his lab when the dreaded day came. It took Rhodey and Happy’s combined force for him to get to the interview on time and look presentable. Tony’s threats fell upon deaf ears, and there he sat, waiting for his interviewer with a mug of coffee warming his hands.

Someone entered the room, and Tony sighed quietly, his momentary peace disrupted.

A hand entered his line of vision, followed by a voice that said, “Hi! My name is Peter Parker. I’ll be interviewing you today.”

Tony grasped the soft hand to give it a polite shake and looked up from his coffee, his voice catching in his throat and stealing his words from his mouth. Warm chestnut eyes met his own and softened the longer Tony remained silent, slight unease creeping into them. Tony admired the rosy swell of his cheeks, the ruffled eyebrows that stubbornly reached for the sky, and the sharp jut of his jawline, so prominent that he ached to trace his fingers along the bone and see if it could cut.

This was easily the most gorgeous person Tony had ever laid eyes upon, and he’d done a lot of that in his time. One could say he was a bit of an expert.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked uncertainly.

Tony’s throat relaxed, releasing his voice into the air, which seemed to be increasingly warmer. “Everything is just fine.”

He gave Peter an obvious once-over, allowing the meaning behind his words to register in Peter’s brain, who flushed a deep red.

Peter graced him with a small smile that he was clearly trying to contain. It felt like a victory. Tony leaned back in his chair and relaxed. Suddenly, coming to this interview didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

“If you’re ready, we can get started with the interview,” Peter said, his face having returned to its usual color.

Tony grinned cheekily. “I was born ready.”

Peter alerted the crew that they were ready to film. When the cameras started rolling, he introduced himself and Tony to the viewers, all the while maintaining a smile that gave Tony chest pains. They got started with the questions.

“Which industry trends are you most excited about right now?” Peter asked. His hands were free of cards, his questions either memorized or made up on the spot.

Tony laughed, throwing his head back. “I don’t follow trends. I set them.”

“So, which of your trends are you hoping others will follow?” Peter questioned once his own laughter died down.

Tony steepled his hands. “I’m very big on clean energy. Everyone else may be behind on that, but if they could try to keep up with me, that would be great. We’ve only got one planet.”

Peter nodded in agreement. “What are some of the most important lessons you’ve learned throughout your career?”

“Don’t use your interns for coffee,” Tony joked. “Well, maybe sometimes. But that’s a lot of wasted potential.”

As Peter continued to pose his questions, Tony gave him his answers on autopilot. He’d been asked everything under the sun in all the interviews he’d gone to, and he had a response prepared for it all. Instead of putting thought into his responses, he allowed himself to get distracted by Peter, the way his hands waved about animatedly as he talked, and the gleaming curls Tony was tempted to tug at.

He wondered how soft they were. His fingers twitched, and he forced them still, gripping his mug tighter. Peter was too delicate for him, too easy to ruin, but something in Tony rebelled at the mere idea of staying away.

Tony turned back just in time to hear Peter say, “Now, on behalf of all the ladies wondering, I’d like to ask: is there a special someone in your life?”

“No,” Tony said simply, “but there can be.”

He gave Peter a suggestive look, leaving no room for doubt as to what he was implying.

“You don’t mean…” Peter trailed off, disbelieving.

Tony was caught off guard. How could Peter ever doubt his own beauty? It seemed impossible to Tony, who was all too aware of his own looks but even more so Peter’s.

“I do.”

Silence stretched on for an eternal moment, Tony’s heart pounding fiercely, the thunderous beats echoing in his ears.

“Let’s start with dinner first,” Peter said, flustered. “If that’s okay.”

Tony’s heartbeat eased. “That’s more than okay.”

Tony had picked the place. Of course he did. He always had impeccable taste, especially when it came to impressing someone. The restaurant was modern but intimate, with dim lighting that cast soft shadows over the sleek decor. Tony didn’t care much about the atmosphere—he was too focused on Peter, seated across from him, looking like something out of a dream.

They’d ordered drinks before Tony even realized he was staring at Peter again. His eyes traced the curve of Peter’s lips as he took a sip of his wine, the way his fingers gripped the stem of the glass so delicately. Tony’s mind wandered, his thoughts a mix of admiration and desire, and before he knew it, he was lost in the quiet space between their conversations, the comfortable tension.

Peter, meanwhile, was trying to hold it together. His palms were a little sweaty. Was it the nerves? Or maybe the fact that Tony Stark, the infamous genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—had just asked him out on a date? He kept catching Tony’s eyes and finding it hard to look away. Tony was... well, Tony. He was sharp, confident, and clearly well aware of the effect he had on people. And yet, here he was, being kind, patient, and even a little soft.

“So,” Peter said, trying to steer his thoughts away from dangerous territory, “You’ve worked on some pretty crazy projects. I mean, who else can build an AI-powered suit of armor that’s practically invincible? What’s the next big leap for you?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You want to talk about the next big leap after I ask you to dinner?” He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping a little lower, more intimate. “That’s... that’s some pretty advanced multi-tasking, kid.”

Peter swallowed, feeling a warmth spread over his face. “I—uh, well... just... curious, I guess?”

Tony laughed, the sound like music in Peter’s ears. “That’s what I like about you, Parker. Always curious.” He took another sip of his wine, eyes lingering on Peter. “The next big thing? Well, you’re looking at it.” He gestured to the two of them with a quick flick of his hand. “Right here. Right now.”

Peter blinked, unsure if he’d heard him correctly.

Tony’s smirk was playful, but there was an undeniable sincerity in his eyes. “I don’t make moves on just anyone, you know. But you? You’re something else.”

Peter’s chest tightened with a mix of excitement and anxiety. “I’m not... I’m not sure I deserve all this attention.”

Tony leaned in even closer, making Peter's heart race. “Let me make it clear, Peter. You’re the only one I’ve been thinking about all night.”

Peter could barely process the words as they hit him. He was pretty sure his brain had stopped working entirely. “You really mean that?”

Tony’s smile softened. “I do.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of their shared moment filling the space between them. Peter’s thoughts began to spiral again, and he reached for his water, taking a long sip just to give himself something to do with his hands. When he lowered the glass, his eyes met Tony’s again. There was no more hiding it now.

“Tony,” Peter said, almost shy, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Tony’s voice was light, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes.

“What... what if we did this again? Not just dinner. Maybe... something more?” Peter’s voice trailed off, unsure if he was being too forward.

Tony leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. “You mean a date?” he asked, teasing, though the warmth in his voice was unmistakable.

Peter nodded, his heart hammering in his chest.

Tony leaned in, lightly brushing his fingers against Peter’s hand, his touch sending a spark through Peter’s body. “You’re in for one hell of a ride, kid.”

#starker #ironspider #starkerscoopwrites #requests welcome :)

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nessataleweaver · 2 months ago

Text

FIC: You and I are like the ink staining all the other pages (Game of Thrones, Jon/Sansa)

RATING: Explicit (m/f sex); step-incest; possible dubious consent; underage sex

SUMMARY: (modern AU) Step-siblings Jon and Sansa have been in denial about their mutual attraction for a long time. When the Stark-Tully kids head out to the Halloween carnival, Jon is the only one willing to go through the ‘lame’ Ghost tunnel with Sansa. But they don’t know it’s been re-purposed from a Tunnel of Love, that’s been given an extra kick via magic...

PROMPT: For jonsa-halloween for their 2024 event, using the October 30th prompt ‘Magic’.

NOTE: I originally had this idea for ‘curse’, but that would have involved Joffrey being stupid and vengeful, and I don’t really want to give his royal skidmark any page time, so I switched tracks somewhat. While doing so, I realised I was actually writing a prequel to one of my stories from the 2020 event, ‘What you are in the dark’. So to clarify: this is a modern AU, where the Starks are a blended family. Jon and Arya are Ned’s children, while Robb, Sansa and Bran are Catelyn’s kids. Rickon is theirs, and is still a toddler. Theon, Robb, Jon and Sansa are all in high school. Arya and Bran are thirteen and twelve.

Can also be read on AO3

ONE YEAR EARLIER

“Agatha... what are those symbols you’re painting?”

“You seriously don’t know?”

“Well, from here they look like several examples of ‘surrender to your desires’, ‘increase affection’, and ‘increase libido’.”

“So why did you ask?”

(sigh) “Agatha, I was asking with the sub-text “Why in Hecate’s name are you painting magic symbols inside our carnival attraction, which we will be exposing many members of the public to?” Do you want us to get sued? Or called in by the Misuse of Magic Office?”

“Don’t be silly! It’s not mind-altering or anything, it’s just giving things a little... push. This is going to be a ‘Tunnel of Love’, so the couples that go through it will come out feeling lovey-dovey and horny. Just think about the Yelp reviews we’ll get!”

“And what about people who aren’t couples, who are just going through it for laughs? Or people who are going on this because they get sick on other rides, and who’s significant others are on the coaster? Or tweenage girls going through with their besties because it’s so romantic?”

(eyeroll) “It’s like you think I’m stupid or something. All the boats are floating on water, so the customers won’t be around any of the symbols long enough for anything to happen inside the ride. If anything, their partners will have a good time when they get home, or they get to discover the joys of masturbation. Honestly, the worst that will happen is that a few of the security guards might bust some couples fucking in the parking lot because they don’t want to wait to get home. So what?”

(deeper sigh) “If something goes wrong, I’m throwing you off the flying carpet.”

“Fine, Miss Scaredy-cat! And when we get asked to hire it out all over the North, I get all the bragging rights!”

ONE MONTH EARLIER

“Agatha, did you hire out our Tunnel of Love to a Halloween carnival?”

“Yep! Their Ghost train got derailed somewhere in the Neck, and they’re paying us triple the usual hire fee plus ten per cent of the gate! It’s easy to re-decorate – the whole tunnel looks like a cave anyway. We put Halloween costumes on all the dummies, add in a few fake coffins and bubbling cauldrons and maybe put in a mad scientist lab or zombie graveyard to replace the masqued ballroom? We hang fake spider-webs and black drop-cloths from the ceiling with ghost outlines, and instead of the love songs we play spooky sound effects over the sound system. We haven’t painted the spare set of boats yet, so we make them black and use stencils for skulls and bones over that. Hey, if we keep them that way maybe we can add a pirate cave option?”

PRESENT DAY - LAST FRIDAY BEFORE HALLOWEEN

“Sheesh, Sansa, you’re such a scaredy-cat. We wait any longer to hit the really good rides, we’ll be stuck in line for ages. All the college students will hit the carnival soon – trust me, I know.”

“I’m not scared, Arya,” Sansa told her step-sister. “I just get motion-sick easily, remember? I ride the roller-coaster, the Hurricane and the Zipper within an hour, and I’ll be bringing up dinner with a vengeance. Just go without me.”

Arya made an expressive face. “I forgot about all those meds you had to take for our family honeymoon. But seriously, what was the point of getting to leave Rickon and the parentals at home if not to go on all the rides?”

Jon ruffled her hair affectionately. “You can still go on all the rides. At least the ones you’re tall enough for.”

Arya scowled and hit her older brother in the side. “I haven’t had my growth spurt yet! That’s why Sansa found me these platform combat boots.”

Jon smiled, not even feeling Arya’s punch. While Sansa had corralled Arya and Bran through the shooting games and stashing Arya’s armful of prizes in the car, Theon had split a joint with him and Robb. As a result, Jon was feeling as chilled as a capybara.

“Robb and Theon are coming back now,” Sansa pointed down the midway. “Robb loves those rides, too. If he hesitates, tell him it’ll be a sibling bonding moment – that always gets him.”

Bran snickered. “Sansa, the mastermind. But seriously, Theon loves the arcade but hates admitting it. I’ll ask him to go through it with me and that’ll leave Robb for you.”

Sansa grinned. “That leaves Jon to go through the haunted house with me.”

“No it doesn’t! I want to go through the haunted house too!” Arya protested.

“And me!” Bran added. “What about the mirror maze, or the Ghost Tunnel? I think you’re the only ones who wanted those.”

“Um, maybe not the maze,” Jon mumbled. “Reminds me of my ex.”

“The one who shot you with an arrow or the one who’s now running that cult?” Sansa asked.

“Dany,” Jon replied. He hadn’t even told his best friend Sam, or Robb, that his narcissistic to the point of God-complex girlfriend had once hired out the entire mirror maze for an hour so she could make him fuck her while she watched their reflections in about ten different mirrors. There were reasons he’d stayed with her as long as he had - almost all of them sexual.

“Ghost Tunnel then?” Sansa asked brightly.

“Sure,” Jon said agreeably. “It hasn’t been here before, so I’m up for the new experience.”

Leaving their younger siblings in Robb and Theon’s sometimes-capable hands, Jon and Sansa headed across the fairgrounds.

Sansa looked up at the night sky, and smiled. “I love full moons, and this one’s special, did you know?”

“Wasn’t Bran talking about this at breakfast the other day?” Jon asked. “It’s a blue moon, yeah? The second in a month?”

“Exactly. It’s very good for charging spells and ceremonies.”

“You don’t talk much about your magic studies,” Jon remarked curiously. “Even when I helped you study for the botany section.”

“It tends to upset Mother. I inherited the talent from her, but she’s so devoted to the Seven she always refused to do anything with it. At least she’s never tried to keep me from it. Though I think it’s partly because Uncle Brynden and Aunt Lysa had a discussion – the kind with a capital D - with her about it when I was younger.”

“So you’re not doing any of those spells or ceremonies?”

Sansa shook her head. “My mentor’s doing something tomorrow, but as a solo practitioner I’m not at the stage yet where it would be useful for me. At my level, without a circle or coven, I might even do myself some damage.”

Arriving at the head of the line, Sansa and Jon tore some tickets off their pre-bought roll, and handed them over to the attendant, dressed in what looked like a Shakespeare heroine costume with a fake vampire bite dribbling down her throat and pale sparkly face paint.

“A water ride? I haven’t seen one of those in a Ghost tunnel before,” Sansa remarked, as Jon handed her into the boat. She stashed her messenger bag in a cage underneath the prow, before she settled into the seat.

The boat’s shape forced them to sit very close together and it took several attempts to find a comfortable position, Jon having to put his arm around Sansa as they headed off into the dark.

A lifelong connoisseur of haunted attractions, Sansa murmured comments to Jon as they slowly floated along.

“Glow in the dark paint usually looks a bit tacky, but these ghosts are painted really well.”

“Oooh, that’s a lovely effect on those floating candelabra! Maybe there’s some actual magic being used here?”

“I wonder why there are no scare actors? There should have been at least one by now if this ride has them.”

“Can you hear a crackle? You think there’s a set-piece up ahead with lightning effects?”

Just as Jon muttered his agreement, they rounded the curve and saw a large alcove holding what looked to be Frankenstein’s laboratory, complete with a semi-covered body on a lab table, and even a pseudo-skylight above showing lightning constantly flashing. Their boat settled to a halt, either to change passengers at the beginning or to let them admire the showpiece, when a particularly large thunderclap made them jump.

Then the already dim lighting went out, leaving them in pitch darkness.

“What the hell?”

Silver runes glowed at several points along the wall, and Sansa exclaimed, “So they are using real magic!”

A soothing voice echoed through the darkness. “We are currently experiencing a power failure, and are working to restore the lights and movement of the boats. In the meantime, we are providing an alternative soundtrack.”

Piano music echoed in the tunnel, and Jon absently identified, “Tchaikovsky. Kind of romantic for a haunted tunnel.”

“Still better than the creepy sound effects, given the situation,” Sansa murmured.

Sansa wasn’t sure how long they floated in the dark, before she found herself snuggling closer to Jon. His arm tightened around her in response.

“Cold?” he asked quietly.

“Not exactly.”

Actually, she was feeling quite warm. Sansa opened up her zippered hoodie and pulled her sweater out from the waistband of her short skirt. She turned her head sideways to bury her face in Jon’s neck. He smelled really good, and Sansa absently pressed her thighs together, enjoying the sensation.

Jon rested his head on top of Sansa’s, as his hand curved around her hip, his thumb at just the right angle to dip under the hem of her sweater to stroke her soft skin just above the waistband of her skirt. It felt really good, holding her close; her slim form fit perfectly into the angles of his own. He felt her lips on the sensitive skin on his throat, and bit back a groan as his cock stirred. Now was probably a bad time to remember all the times he’d fisted his cock to thoughts of his lovely step-sister. Even if those pretty tits of hers were pressed softly against his chest, and he was fairly sure that he could feel her hardened nipples through her sweater and his shirt.

Sansa could admit to herself, here in the dark, that her panties were wet and her breasts ached with need. That she wanted to be even closer to Jon. She wanted to feel his bare skin against hers, and to wrap her arms and legs around him. Her heart pounding, Sansa let her hand drift along the contours of his torso and down, until she could feel the hard bulge between his legs. She sighed as she curved her hand around it, then gasped as she felt Jon’s lips against her ear.

“Let me,” Jon murmured, his voice almost soundless as he brought his free hand down to cover the fingers rubbing at him through his jeans. He moved them aside just enough to undo the button and zip, and groaned in relief as he parted the slit in his boxers to free his erection. Had Theon added something to that joint? He was so horny he was pretty sure he could hammer nails with his dick.

Jon couldn’t see Sansa’s fingers gently, tentatively wrap around his rampant cock, gingerly fisting and stroking him, but it was really working for him. The hand he’d latched around her hip slid up and under her sweater, until he could feel the lace of her bra. He ran his fingertips along the curve of her breast until he found the hem of the cup, gently tugging until her now-exposed breast fell into his palm, where his fingers could rub and flick at her nipple. She was half-way in his lap, her knee hooked over his thigh, and Jon used it as a guide for his other hand, gliding his fingers along her inner thigh until he found her mound.

Sansa whimpered as he stroked and rubbed her pussy through the soaking wet fabric of her underwear, but he wanted more. Jon pulled and fumbled until he felt her bare folds, and expertly found her clit. Sansa moaned, and Jon’s cock all but jumped in her grip in response.

Sansa’s head was spinning, and in the dark she was blind to everything but Jon. His touch on her breast and between her legs, and the hot throbbing rod of muscle in her hand. She felt so good, and she loved it. Why had no one ever told her she could feel so good? She moved her hips against Jon’s hand, and his thick fingers slid in her slick folds until one slipped right inside her. She felt herself squeeze down on him in reaction.

“More. Jon, I want more,” she whispered. Another finger pushed it’s way inside her, and they both wriggled and curved, and when Jon touched a certain spot Sansa slammed her hand over her mouth as she shivered and writhed through her first climax.

Jon had never fucked a virgin before, but Sansa was so tight around his fingers he was sure he was about to. She was so wet she was dripping onto his hand, and he wouldn’t have any issues working his dick into Sansa’s cunt even though he was on the larger side and she was so tight.

“You need to sit on my lap,” he murmured. It took some manoeuvring, untangling their legs by feel, but both Jon’s hands latched on Sansa’s hips, and he pulled her body flush to his with her knees bracketing his hips. His cock rubbed against her soaked underwear, and Sansa sighed and rocked her pelvis to increase the friction. Jon could already feel the pressure building along his spine; he needed to move quickly. “Sansa? If I lift you up, can you put me in the right place?”

Sansa reached down and gripped his cock in answer. He felt her pull her underwear aside with one hand as the tip of cock brushed against her folds. As it notched into her opening, Jon eased Sansa down, groaning as he sank into her tight, slick cunt.

Was it her delectable pussy that felt so good, or was it because he’d never fucked raw before? Either way, Jon was pretty sure he was having the best sex of his life.

“Your thing is inside me!” Sansa whimpered. “It’s so big, I’m so full.”

“Are you hurting?” Jon rumbled softly in her ear.

“Mmmph, ah! It feels really good, though,” Sansa gasped. She wriggled and squirmed, not sure whether she was trying to get Jon deeper inside her or find a position that didn’t feel like she was going to burst. She pushed her sweater up to her armpits, and wrenched at the front hooks of her bra. As Jon’s grip on her hips urged her to rock back and forth, Sansa slid her arms around his neck and rubbed her bare breasts against the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“Lean back a little,” Jon ordered.

Sansa arched her back, mourning the loss of stimulation to her breasts, but Jon somehow shifted his hips, changing the angle of his hardness and Sansa yelped as he rubbed against the place inside his fingers had found earlier, making her feel like a lightning-bolt, sizzling and ready to strike. He did it again and again, and Sansa felt herself explode.

“That’s it, sweetheart, clench down hard on my cock,” Jon growled in her ear, and Sansa convulsed, her inner muscles trying to squeeze the delicious intrusion that already stretched her open without remorse.

Jon moved his hands to her tits, just the right size to fill his hands, and clutched them as his own climax slammed into him.

“Ah! I can feel your hot stuff coming out, it’s squirting inside me,” moaned Sansa.

Thing? Hot stuff? In the fragment of his mind that wasn’t drowning in pleasure, Jon wondered just what version of The Talk his stepmother had given the girl taking his dick like she was made for it. At least he could cum inside her without reservation; having helped Sansa study for her herbalist lessons, he knew she was licensed to brew moon tea.

Sansa pressed her forehead against Jon’s as she gasped for breath, and his tight grip on her breasts softened, gently cradling them in his big hands.

The rattling of chains broke their silence, and the boat jerked. Sansa sat bolt upright as the boat started to move.

“Fuck, we’re moving! You need to get off me!” Jon yelped.

Sansa nearly fell out to the boat, trying to disentangle herself from Jon and sit back down while shifting her panties back into place. At the same time, Jon was cursing beside her; Sansa caught a glimpse of his still-hard cock as he pushed it back into his jeans, and a swift after-shock of need ran through her. The dim light grew brighter, and Sansa gave up fumbling with her bra to yank her sweater down, hurriedly zipping up her hoodie, glad she’d borrowed it from Jon earlier in the evening and it was thus two sizes too big.

Their boat cruised through a curtain of strings of moss, and bumped into the dock. Blinking away after-images of the bright carnival lights, Sansa ignored the ride attendant’s droning voice.

Looking down at the bottom of the boat, Sansa’s eyes widened in horror at the obvious stains surrounding Jon’s fly. His leather jacket wasn’t long enough to cover them.

“Hang on, I need my bag!” she exclaimed. Bending forward, half-over Jon’s lap, Sansa groped for her messenger bag with one hand. With the other, she passed her fingertips, faintly glowing river-blue, over Jon’s crotch while she whispered a key-phrase.

Jon had to help her out of the boat, too – her legs could barely hold her up.

Jon’s fingers circled her wrist, as he led her away from the ride, the attendant’s smirk not hidden by the fangs of his B-movie Dracula costume.

“There’s bathrooms under the stairs to the grandstand, hardly anyone should be there until it’s time for the fireworks,” Jon told her. “Meet you outside once we’ve both cleaned up.”

Keeping his body turned away from the man at urinals, Jon shut himself into the farthest cubicle with a sigh of relief. What in the seven hells had Sansa been playing at, fondling his crotch like that in front of that vampire jerkass?

Jon grabbed a fistful of toilet tissue and looked down to assess the damage. In the bright light of the bathroom, he could see no tell-tale stains. Looking in the direction of the ladies’ room, Jon sent a mental apology to Sansa. She’d been using her favorite cleaning spell; if he’d been paying attention to her words instead of her touch he’d have recognised it. She’d certainly used it on Arya and Bran to help them avoid Catelyn’s wrath enough times.

In the only available stall in the ladies’ room, Sansa hung her messenger bag and hoodie on the hook on the back of the door. Reaching underneath her sweater, she pulled the cups of her bra back into place but couldn’t quite fasten it. With a sigh of exasperation, Sansa pulled off her sweater, static electricity making her hair crackle, and shrugged out of her bra.

Standing topless in the small concrete-walled building, Sansa felt her nipples harden again from the chilly air as she inspected her bra. She’d somehow managed to pop the stitching that kept the hooks in place. It would be quite uncomfortable if she tried to wear it now and she was sure to lose at least one set of hook-and-eyes. Folding the garment carefully, Sansa slipped it into the laptop sleeve of her messenger bag. Sitting down on the toilet, Sansa needed three lots of tissue to clean Jon’s spend from between her legs, and two castings of the ‘neaten-up’ spell to make her sodden panties wearable again.

Dragging her sweater back over her head, Sansa inhaled sharply as she tugged it into place over her hips. The soft wool felt so good against her still-sensitized breasts, and the place between her legs ached with longing. Even though she was sore down there from being forced wide open, she missed the fullness. Shrugging on the hoodie, she left it open. After washing her hands at the communal sinks, Sansa settled the strap of her messenger bag in a cross-body position between her breasts. Looking at her reflection, Sansa could see her hard nipples ever so slightly distorting the surface of her sweater, her unencumbered breasts framed by Jon’s hoodie at the sides and the bag-strap pulling the wool flat between them and taut across them. How easy would it be, for Jon to slide his hand under the hem of her sweater and feel her bare breasts?

Sansa smiled at her reflection as she smoothed the static from her hair.

When they met outside the bathrooms, Jon and Sansa were almost as immaculate as when they went into the Ghost tunnel. Maybe Jon’s curls were a little wilder, and Sansa’s lips were so red it looked like she’d been drinking the smoothie van’s ‘Bloody Brew’. But so what?

Jon’s eyes traced along the curves of his step-sister’s breasts, which he was certain were bare beneath the jack-o-lantern patterned sweater. He had to fight the urge to drop to his knees and bury his face between her thighs. He’d come inside her fifteen minutes ago, and all he could think of was getting Sansa somewhere private enough that he could see her naked before driving balls-deep inside her.

Sansa licked her lips as her gaze flickered from his eyes to his crotch and back, and Jon knew without a doubt that she wanted the exact same thing.

“We could say that you’re not feeling well. Theon can fit everyone else into his Rover, and we can take the car and find somewhere to park on the way home.”

Sansa shook her head, her face regretful. “If I’m sick, Robb would insist on taking me home himself. We’ll have to wait.”

“How long?” Jon asked, his voice gravelly with need.

“I’ll get Theon to invite Robb to stay over, so we can drive Bran and Arya home. Once they’re in bed, come to my room. I can close the curtains around my four-poster so no one can see in even if they open the door.”

“Keep the curtains open to the window,” Jon ran his eyes slowly, deliberately over her breasts, tracing every covered curve with his gaze. “I want to see you naked by moonlight.”

Sansa moved closer, until he could feel the heat of her body against the bare skin of his hand.

“Same here.”

ONE WEEK LATER

“I have to admit, Agatha, that ghost caves idea made us a mint. Maybe we should look into leveling up the spooky decorations, and offering it as a permanent alternative option? Could be in more demand than the Tunnel of Love for things like school carnivals.”

“Ha!”

“Agatha, what are you doing?”

“I’m doing the ‘Agatha was right and she’s telling you so!’ dance.”

“Well, could you please point your booty that way,” (point) “before you shake it?” (mutter) “Like I don’t see enough of your ass during sky-clad ceremonies.” (paper rustling) “The switch from romance to spooky takes, what, a day? And that’s mostly covered during set-up anyway. The only thing I don’t have a cost breakdown for is the spell-paint and spell-removal.”

(full-body pause) “Spell-removal?”

“Yeah, what did it cost to erase the lovey-dovey and horny spells? And what will it cost to re-apply them for the Tunnel of Love? It’s not like that shit works off decals.”

(silence)

“Agatha... you did remember to remove the lovey-dovey and horny spells, right?”

“Um...”

“RIGHT?”

DISCLAIMER: Neither Kathryn Hahn or Elizabeth Olsen were fan-cast in this fic. Aubrey Plaza maybe.

Title comes from the song ‘Counterpane’ by The Birthday Massacre; mostly because I didn’t like the original title, and I was listening to the song during final edits.

#jonsa halloween #jonsa halloween 2024 #jonsa fic #my fic #jon snow x sansa stark #though here it's Jon Stark x Sansa Tully

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 6 months ago

Note

Hi Mimi!!!! I can't believe I'm only seeing your fic Song Roulette now!!! If this is past your deadline you can totally disregard this, but I was wondering if you could do Return to Love by Andrea Boccelli with Hunter? I hope I'm within the rules? I couldn't find them (I'm tired so observation skills are low atm XD) if not I can submit a different one within the rules!

Can't wait to see what you do!!!! As always, your work is amazing 🥰

Hello my lovely @dragonrider9905!

Thank you for your lovely request: Return to Love by Andrea Boccelli

Love this song and him. Such a fantastic request. I hope you like my interpretation of it.

Love oo

Return to Love

Warnings: Longing, confession, gift giving, fear, apprehension, hugs, kisses, I think that's it if I miss anything please let me know.

Italics - flashback

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Hunter stood at the entrance of your village, it had been years since he set foot on your home planet. However, now that things had calmed down, Tantiss was no longer a worry. Hemlock was dead and gone. The Empire was no longer looking for Omega. Everything was peaceful.

As he sat by the village tree, and he finally felt peace for the first time in his life, his mind kept going back to you.

The way your smile always used to light up your face.

The way your eyes would always look at him with so much love.

The way your nose would scrunch up when you laughed.

All those little moments, all those little quirks that he memorized, and had safely tucked away in his heart. Kept all those precious moments with you to himself, untainted and pure.

Of course, he still remembered the day he left the village, the day the Separatists were chased off your planet.

His brothers said their goodbye first, thanking you for allowing you to let them use your home as a base for them.

You couldn’t help laughing at Wrecker’s wide eyes as you gave him Lula, it’d been a hobby of yours to make toys for the children of the village, and when you saw how much he kept looking at the kids with their toys. Well you couldn’t help but make one for him too.

You had asked Hunter in secret what colours Wrecker would’ve liked, and you were so happy that he loved it, as much as he did.

Tech and Crosshair also were given presents, Crosshair you gifted him a stack of toothpicks, a habit he developed while being in your home. With Tech, you gave him the new strap for his goggles, it was a special leather that was guaranteed to never wear away.

Hunter just stood off to the side as he watched how you doted on each of his brothers, his heart swelling with each moment. He couldn’t stop smiling when it finally was just the two of you.

“We are very grateful for everything you did for us.”

“It was nothing, Hunter,” you looked into his eyes, smiling as the wind blew through his hair, it was getting in his eyes. You reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear. “I’m going to miss you.”

“So am I”

You held out a red fabric to him, “A little something to remember me by.”

“I can’t forget you regardless.”

“Either way” you smiled as he opened up the red fabric, looking at the necklace in his hand it was a simple ingot necklace. His eyes focused on the design, “It’s the symbol of our village. It’s not much … I’m sure you probably won’t wear it…”

“I love it.” Your eyes focused on each other, as Hunter reached up and put the necklace over his head and tucked it into his body suit. “I’ll wear it always.” He used the red fabric and tied it around his head keeping his hair out of his face.

“If you … any of you ever need a place to call home … my door is always open.” You reached out and held his hand, “Please stay safe.”

Hunter nodded, he wanted to say more, wanted to do so much more than offer a simple squeeze to your fingers. He longed to press his lips against yours. “If I come back, it won’t be for a long time.”

“Whenever you do come back …” you took a deep breath, as you offered one last smile, “my … my door is always open.” You wanted to say how he had your heart so it didn’t matter how long it would take, you wouldn’t forget him. You’d remember all those moments you two shared.

Hunter steeled himself as he stood in front of your house, your necklace nestled against his chest. His fist raised ready to knock, when he took a moment to steal himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knocked, not backing away. It felt as though hours had ticked by as he stood there, when it’d really only been a few seconds.

You wiped your hands clean, as you answered the door, “Sorry, my hands were …” your sentence vanished from your lips as your eyes focused on Hunter’s face.

Your heart started pounding as he stood there, your eyes slowly roving over him, making sure he wasn’t injured, before your eyes went back to his own.

“Hunter…”

The fear and trepidation he’d been feeling from the moment he decided to come to you melted away.

“Hi mesh’la”

You didn’t hesitate a second, throwing your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer, burrowing your face into his neck. He didn’t hold back wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your hair, remembering your scent from so long ago. You still smelt like home. And now that he held you, you felt like home.

Neither of you said anything as you both stood there holding on to each other.

After you’ve had your fill, you pulled back, fighting back tears as you looked at him, “I’ve missed you.”

Hunter fought back his own tears, as his hand gently stroked your cheek, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not late. You’re never late.” You held his cheeks in your hand, smiling as he leaned in closer. You didn’t hesitate, as you closed the distance pressing your lips against his.

Hunter pulled back after holding you in his arms, deepening the kiss like he’d been wanting to do for the past several years, “How do you feel about moving?”

“If it means being with you, I can go anywhere.”

“Ever heard of Pabu?”

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

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@littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee

@vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

@crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified

@griffedeloup @leotatombs

@leotawrites

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siancore · 2 months ago

Text

SamBucky | E | 2.3k | AO3

Summary: While taking down alien bio-weapon arms dealers in Madripoor, Sam is hit with a dart containing a weaponized aphrodisiac substance. Bucky takes Sam to Wakanda for help even though he risks arrest by General Ayo if he shows his face there. But, Bucky would do anything for Sam, and considering Sam's dire situation, Bucky just might have to.

Content: Fuck or Die; Mildly Dubious Consent; Hand Jobs; Explicit Sexual Content; Porn with Feelings

A/N: My first time writing a Fuck or Die fic. I hope it's good. Thanks for reading.

“We were tracking targets who’ve been making bioweapons and selling them on the black market in Madripoor. We got intel that they were making a large sale, so we went to apprehend them,” says Torres in way of explaining what had happened and why he, and the rest of the New Avengers are standing before General Ayo pleading their case. “We went in to incapacitate the targets and then Cap was hit with a dart that injected him with something. Initial scans detected alien tech was used, so Barnes pulled rank and said we had to come here.”

Ayo raises her eyebrow, looks at Bucky, and says, “You were told to stay away from Wakanda for the time being, James.”

Bucky steps forward and gives her a pleading look as he says, “Ayo, please. It’s not me asking another favor. It’s Sam. He needs help. He needs the best and the brightest to fgure this out, and they’re here in the Golden City. Please, General. For Sam.”

“Very well,” Ayo replies. “Captain Wilson can stay, but the rest of you must leave.”

“No,” says Bucky. “I can’t. I won’t – I won’t leave Sam right now.”

“You are yet again testing my patience, James.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I can’t leave him on his own, Ayo. I just can’t,” says Bucky solemnly, and Ayo sees a look in his eyes that she knows all too well herself: Love.

xXx

Sam and Bucky are waiting in a private room at the Royal Medical Facility. The doctors in Birnin Zana have run numerous tests and the pair are awaiting the results.

“I feel okay,” says Sam as Bucky paces the floor. “Sure, a little warm, and maybe kinda hazy. But I – oh. Oh.”

“What is it?” asks Bucky as he comes to a halt and looks down at Sam.

The other man looks equal parts sheepish and mortified.

“Nothing,” says Sam.

“Come on,” Bucky urges as he takes up a seat next to Sam. “The Doc said to let her know if there’re any changes in how you feel. What is it, Sam?”

It is in that moment that Sam begins to present with symptoms. He is suddenly feverish and restless. His mouth goes dry, and his throat feels somewhat tight. His skin feels like it is burning, and his heart is racing. He is also, to his surprise and dismay, growing sexually aroused. Sam can feel the heat pooling below as an erection begins to swell.

“I just – I feel kinda hot,” says Sam.

Bucky instinctively reaches his hand over to test Sam’s temperature, Sam leans into the touch.

“You’re burning, Sam!” says Bucky as he gets to his feet. “I’m goin’ to get the Doc.”

Before Sam can say anything in protest, Bucky rushes out of the room in search of someone to help.

xXx

“It’s a weaponized aphrodisiac,” says Doctor Shem’ka

“A what?” asks a confused Bucky as he knits his brow and looks between Sam and the doctor.

“An aphrodisiac is something that causes sexual arousal –”

“I know what that means, Doc,” Bucky supplies. “But weaponized? How? Why?”

“I’ve heard of alien bio-technology similar to this, but no one is quite sure of how it works,” she says. “Basically, it is an aphrodisiac that, once injected into the target’s bloodstream, ingested, or inhaled, it remains there and works against their whole system.”

“How?”

“It makes the target experience extreme sexual arousal.”

“Okay, and that’s dangerous?”

“Yes, in this case because unless the extreme sexual arousal is relieved, and therefore expelled from their system, the patient can suffer a number of fatal side effects.”

“Fatal?” both Sam and Bucky ask at the same time.

“Yes, these cases can end in the patient dying if untreated.”

“So, how do we treat it? How do we stop it from attacking his system?” asks Bucky before Sam can even form a sentence.

“The patient has to engage in sexual activity. Like I said before, we have heard of these types of weaponized aphrodisiacs, mostly in the form of sex pollen. It attacks the victim from the inside out and can only be treated by the patient engaging in sexual activity.”

“Okay,” says Sam, processing the information he is being told while trying not to ogle Bucky.

“Will he live?” Bucky chokes out, as he places a hand to Sam’s shoulder; Sam wants to press his whole body against Bucky’s and almost moans from the thought of it.

“If he’s able to receive treatment.”

xXx

“So, it really is fuck or die?” asks Sam, trying to lighten the mood before he flinches from pain once more.

“That’s how they explained it,” Bucky replies, trying to avert his gaze.

Sam looks so uncomfortable. He is in the private room while being monitored remotely. His face looks flushed and pained at the same time. He is trying to hide his straining erection while steadying his breathing. He really, really wants Bucky. He can smell Bucky. He bets Bucky’s cock will taste better than he smells. He bets Bucky’s cock can split him –

“Cap?” asks Bucky after a moment of silence from Sam. “How you doin’?”

Sam is drawn from his lascivious thoughts from the sound of Bucky’s voice.

“Hmm, I’m okay,” Sam lies.

“Sam?”

“What?”

“How’re you doin’?”

“Well, I’m so hard that it hurts,” Sam says flatly. “And it feels like my skin is burning me alive.”

Bucky moves to the bedside table and pours Sam another glass of water. He brings it around and hands it to him. Sam takes it, gulps it down, and then stares up into Bucky’s eyes. There’s a fire behind his gaze as he looks up through his pretty lashes. Bucky’s dick twitches at the sight before he reminds himself that Sam is in a dire situation and Bucky’s little crush on him should not be causing him distraction right now.

“Buck?”

“Yeah? You need me to get someone?”

“No. No, I need. I need you to touch me.”

“Sam.”

“Please, Buck. I’m so hot for it. I need you. Your hand or your mouth. Please, just touch me.”

Sam looks down to his own lap covered by the hospital gown and Bucky sees how hard he is through the flimsy material. Bucky is ashamed that his own erection grows at the sight of Sam’s dripping cock soaking the fabric. He looks away.

“I’ll be back.”

“Buck?”

“Just wait here, please,” says Bucky as he makes his way toward the door. “I gotta check something with the Doc.”

Bucky’s heart clenches at the sounds of Sam pleading with him as he slips out of the door. When Bucky finds the doctor, he gets right to the point.

“What if Sam relieves himself?” asks Bucky, not wanting to do anything unless they explore all of the available options.

“Captain Wilson has already masturbated while you went to make the call to update your team,” Doctor Shem’ka answers. “It relieved his symptoms marginally.”

“Really? That’s umm, that’s. Shit. Umm. What if – what if I touched him?”

The doctor contemplates what Bucky is asking.

“Maybe masturbation by someone else would work. Sergeant Barnes, if you do not want to, we can get one of our medical staff to —“

“No!” Bucky says quickly. “No, I can — I’ll do it. Sam’s my partner. If he needs help, I’ll be the one to help him.”

“Very well,” the doctor replies. “We will continue to monitor his vitals from here, but you and he will have complete privacy while engaging in the act.”

Bucky’s face flushes hot, but he has no time to think about his modesty. He turns to leave, but then says, “I don’t know what this substance has done to Sam. Not entirely. But does he know what he’s askin’ me for? Does he want this? The sex, I mean?”

“It’s difficult to tell for certain,” Doctor Shem’ka answers honestly.

“So, he might not really want me touching him and it’s just the drug talking?”

“It is a possibility.”

Bucky looks sick a moment as the realization sets in.

“But I can tell you this with certainty, Sergeant Barnes. If Captain Wilson doesn’t find relief and treatment soon, he will not survive.”

xXx

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” says Sam when Bucky steps back into the room. “I just really need you right now. I need you.”

Sam sounds so out of it. He is reclined on the bed, sweat covers his body, and his eyes are so dilated Bucky can scarcely see the amber in them.

“Hey, come here,” says Bucky as he sits and then lies on the bed next to Sam. “I know. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna help you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Sam makes a pleased sound as he shifts closer to Bucky and reaches his hand out to take Bucky’s. He guides it up under the hem of his gown and places it to his hardness. Sam moans and Bucky almost gasps out loud. Sam is so hard. So, so hard and his taut skin feels as if it’s on fire. His cock feels heavy in Bucky’s hand and Bucky finds himself wrapping his fist around Sam’s girth. Sam covers his hand and tries to guide him up and down.

“Hold on,” Bucky whispers.

“Buck-eeeeeee,” Sam pleads moving closer to the other man. “Please. Please.”

“Shh,” Bucky soothes as he turns to grab the bottle of lube he brought back into the room. “I don’t want our first time doing this to be uncomfortable for you.”

Sam moans something unintelligible and closes his eyes as Bucky squeezes lube into his fist and coats Sam’s hardness.

“Bucky,” Sam breathes out. “Oh, God. Bucky.”

Before the man whose name is falling so deliciously from Sam’s perfect lips can say anything, Sam is reaching up and pulling him in for a kiss. Bucky is stunned a moment, and a little disoriented by the feeling of Sam’s lips claiming his. He had dreamed of this moment more times than he would care to admit. He imagined sharing their first kiss after Sam’s first mission as Captain America. He imagined it happening down on the dock in Delacroix as the sun hung lazily in the Louisiana sky. He imagined them sharing their first kiss on a quiet Sunday afternoon on Sam’s couch. He never imagined it would have happened like this. With Sam being drugged by a substance that has him burning with desire. In a moment of clarity, that little voice inside of Bucky’s head reminds him that Sam, in this state, would desire the touch of anyone, not just Bucky. Even though, as Bucky strummed at Sam’s gorgeous cock, Sam was calling his name.

A clever slide of Sam’s tongue to deepen their kiss brings Bucky back to the present moment. Sam’s kisses are better than Bucky imagined, and he instantly feels guilty for thinking so. Sam doesn’t want this, what is transpiring between them. Sam doesn’t want him.

Sam breaks the kiss and moans into Bucky’s mouth as Bucky continues to stroke his hardness. Sam’s breath is hot on Bucky’s lips. Bucky opens his eyes and catches Sam’s lidded gaze. He looks out of it; delirious. He looks beautiful like this. So fucking beautiful as Bucky catches his lips in another kiss. He draws Sam closer, one hand holding Sam safely, the other sliding up and down Sam’s dripping, veiny dick.

He knows this feels more intimate than it should be. He knows he just needs to get Sam off, and hopefully the drug will be flushed from his system. But it all feels so intense for Bucky, lying there drawing pleasure from Sam; soothing Sam; healing Sam. Saving Sam. That’s all he wants to do. And if this is how it has to happen so that Sam can live, well Bucky will do it a thousand times over.

Sam pulls back a little as his eyes clench shut and his body goes rigid. Bucky keeps strumming him as Sam finally finds his release and comes hot in Bucky’s fist. Sam moans as his orgasm ripples through his body. Bucky strokes him through it and holds him, peppering soft kisses to Sam’s sweat drenched brow as he fights to catch his breath. Sam seems dozy as he basks in the afterglow of his climax. Bucky keeps an eye on him as he falls into slumber.

He doesn’t want to move and leave Sam there, but he needs to check in with the medical staff to see if the drug has been expelled. He watches as Sam’s chest rises and falls languidly as sleep takes him a little deeper.

Bucky manages to disentangle himself from Sam and amble toward the door. Just as he is about to make his exit, he hears Sam stir behind him.

“Bucky?”

“I’m here,” he replies before turning to face Sam; what he sees almost tears his heart out.

Sam is lying there, feverish and sweating once more, and sporting another painful erection. It didn’t work. Fuck. It did not work.

“Bucky, please,” Sam begs as tears fill his eyes. “It hurts. It hurts. I need you.”

“Oh, Honey. I’m sorry,” says Bucky wetly. “I’ll try again, okay? Whatever you need, I’ll give you.”

“I want you. I want you so bad, Buck. Please.”

Bucky knows it’s the drug talking. He knows Sam wouldn’t really truly want this from him. Would never want this with him. But something about the desperation in Sam’s voice makes Bucky’s resolve shatter, even though he knows better.

“I – I want you, too, Sammy,” Bucky finds himself admitting. “I want you so fucking much it hurts. I’d do anything for you. Just tell me what you need.”

“Bucky, please. Please. Fuck me. I need you to fuck me. I’ll be so good for you, Buck. I’ll be so good, I promise.”

“Shhh. I know. I know,” Bucky soothes as he climbs back into the bed and kisses Sam’s temple. “I’ll help you. It’ll work this time. I’m gonna fix this. I’m gonna make you feel better. You’re gonna feel so, so good, Baby. I promise.”

#sambucky #sambucky fanfiction #sam wilson #Bucky barnes

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skyler10fic · 7 days ago

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The Gift of Time

By Skyler10

Summary: A mysterious Christmas gift transports Carol to a future she needs to see, beginning with waking up in bed next to her superhero-coworker crush on the morning of Christmas Eve!

Notes: In one of many alternate universes to our own, the agents of Shield and Captain Marvel had adventures and lives that are in some ways much the same as the stories we know, but their family relationships and details are slightly different, and a certain witch from Agatha All Along appears! But different. Merry holigays and a happy new queer! :)

(Photo hat tip/prompt credit to the monthly @ficwip 1k image prompt for inspiring this, but the word count is six times that so it does not count for their event. haha)

Read on Ao3

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

Cozy and warm in bed, Carol Danvers did not want to wake up. She could tell without even opening her eyes that it was morning, but she felt like it was far too early for that. Stretching and yawning, she wondered where Goose was if not pawing at her face for breakfast to be served. She turned over in the direction of the bedside table with her phone on it, but her arm hit something unexpected.

“Ow,” a female voice next to her mumbled, still half asleep. “I’m awake, geez. Just five more minutes, babe.”

Carol blinked open her eyes in confusion and shock. The woman in bed with her was very much not awake, but still gorgeous even in her disheveled state. Carol’s eyes adjusted to the light, and her brain slowly caught up with her attraction. Wait. She knew who this was.

“Daisy?” With a caramel tint, her hair looked lighter here up close in the morning sun than it had at work this week.

“Mmhm?” Daisy peeked one eye open and did not in the least seem surprised to see Carol.

“What do you remember of last night?”

Daisy smiled and turned on her back to stretch, eyes still mostly closed.

“C’mon, we didn’t have that much wine first. But if you really did forget, I can do it again.” Daisy turned back to Carol and slid a hand up Carol’s shirt suggestively.

“I wouldn’t complain,” Carol said, not giving away that she had no idea what Daisy was talking about. There was nothing Carol’s lust wanted more than to find out what that was, but she had to figure out why her coworker crush, Agent Johnson, also known as superhero Quake, was in her bed, or even in her house, first thing in the morning.

Daisy cuddled into her side and snoozed comfortably as if they did this every day. A flicker of light caught Carol’s eye, and she glanced around the room. The windows were wrong. The decorations were unfamiliar. This wasn’t her room. Or bed. This wasn’t her house at all. Carol tried to keep her pulse calm as her mind raced with what to do next. She knew Daisy’s powers would be able to sense if her body tensed in signals of fear instead of comfort and desire.

“Go back to sleep,” Carol whispered to Daisy as she snuck out of bed. She found the bathroom right outside the bedroom and noted the clear couple’s setup: double sinks, each with a toothbrush and various lotions and makeup and such. Two bath towels, one navy and one baby blue, hung next to the shower. Even Carol herself looked different with shorter hair, parted farther to the side. The mirror was framed with little notes to each other, some in her own handwriting and some in Daisy’s. A few were just doodles of Christmas trees and snowflakes, while others said “Bake cookies for Christmas lunch” and “Saturday, 8 p.m., Shield gift exchange.”

“Oh.” Carol remembered. The gift. The last thing she remembered was opening a mysterious gift…

—----------------

Late on Christmas Eve, she’d received a cardboard shipping box, no message or name but her own, delivered to her house in Louisiana. Inside had been a gold present box covered in glitter with the warning on a gift tag: Do Not Open Until Christmas!

Obviously, she had been too curious, and she opened the gift. In her defense, the glitter and glimmer on the box was very shiny. On top of the gold tissue paper had been another warning: “Not for Use Before Christmas Day.”

This, of course, made her even more curious, and Carol Danvers couldn’t resist a challenge. She was only a few hours early. Surely that was close enough. She pulled out the most beautiful snow globe, with a base of elaborately detailed gold and silver. Inside was a scene of two girls kissing in a snowy village.

Goose meowed and tilted her head.

“You know,” Carol said to her not-a-cat, “I actually have a coat and hat that look like the blonde one. Now if only I knew who the dark-haired girl was.” The mystery girl’s face was partially hidden by the blonde’s mitten on one side and a gas street lamp on the other. Carol turned it around and around, but there was no way to see. She realized how silly she was being. The real mystery was who sent it and who had been the intended recipient. No name tag or shipping label provided any clues.

“You didn’t order this, did you?” Carol asked Goose. The flerkin blinked back in disinterest and sauntered away.

Carol turned the snowglobe over to check the bottom for any note or hint, but the only words there were likely from the manufacturer: “Time to shake things up.”

Out of ideas, Carol did as instructed. She watched in melancholy as the snow inside flurried around. Single and lonely with only her cat(ish) for company was just the stereotype the Christmas rom-com movies started with. But superhero work didn’t leave a lot of room for meeting girls, and she was getting recognized as a celebrity both here on Earth and on other planets, which was awkward in the best of times but nowhere more so than on a first date. And no one would believe her if she signed up for a dating app.

Besides, her heart was too busy falling for Agent Daisy Johnson. Daisy had helped her with some space missions, and they had come back home to Shield together as intergalactic politics and a massive meteor storm in the forecast made it safer to return to Earth. They’d been assigned to the same team and missions, and the more time they spent working together, the harder Carol fell for her. Daisy had seemed potentially interested and vaguely flirty, but then the holidays came and their team rotated off active duty. As they packed up to go their separate ways, Daisy mentioned being set up with a guy while back home and how much it sounded like a Hallmark movie. She rolled her eyes, and Carol laughed.

“I don’t mean to be a bitch about it, though. He really does sound like a great guy.” Daisy had shrugged. “Who knows, maybe he’ll be the one. Or, I don’t know, have a hot sister. Or some other cheesy Christmas movie plot.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Carol had given her a tight smile, wished her luck and happy holidays, then slung her red duffle bag over her shoulder and left before Daisy could ask about her plans in return.

Then, the next night, with only a few hours until Christmas Day, Carol had shaken the snow globe while replaying this conversation in her mind and wishing she had the courage to ask Daisy out. Her eyes drifted to her phone, but the circumstances held her back from texting Daisy right that minute. If Daisy said no, or even if she said yes at first and then things didn’t work out between them, it would make their work together awkward, or worse, even more dangerous. They had people’s lives, including each other’s, in their superpowered hands every day. They couldn’t afford to be distracted.

But still, watching the last faux snowflake fall through the liquid in the glass ball to the sparkling white-painted ground, Carol envied her miniature doppelganger inside the winter wonderland. Her stomach sank as the last flake settled. Then, the glass seemed to glow, but Carol felt woozy, almost like vertigo and being pulled through a funnel at the same time, and closed her eyes.

—---------------

Now, Carol washed her face and held the warm cloth to her forehead, trying to make sense of how she’d gotten from watching the mystery snowglobe in her living room to standing in the bathroom of an unfamiliar home that was clearly her own in this reality, but not the same one she’d had last night.

“Ready to go?” Carol hazily remembered herself asking.

“I know exactly how to get warm,” Daisy’s voice echoed in her head. It was fuzzy, like a dream.

“Hey,” the real Daisy greeted, more awake now, and met Carol’s eyes in the bathroom mirror. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” Carol answered honestly. She’d seen a lot of weird stuff in her line of work, and anything—from parallel universes to an AI to someone playing mind games with her to literal magic from a sorcerer or witch—was on the table. Or this might all be an ordinary dream.

“This might sound crazy, but have you ever seen a snowglobe with two women that look like us in the middle, um, kissing? In the snow?”

Daisy searched Carol’s expression. “You’re joking, right? Sometimes it’s hard to tell before we’re fully awake.”

“No, I don’t know…” Carol tried to find a way that didn’t sound completely insane. “I guess it was just a dream.”

“Sounds like a good dream to wake up from on Christmas Eve.” Daisy casually kissed Carol’s cheek and continued about her morning routine. “Oh, don’t forget, we have the Shield party tonight.”

“Right!” Carol pointed at the sticky note. “And, uhhh, remind me of our plans for today before then?”

Daisy let out a little laugh. “What happened to Mrs. ‘Drag brunch is our new Christmas tradition!’ hm? Or was that a test? You’re testing me.”

“I just don’t want to be late,” Carol explained, hoping it would satisfy Daisy’s curiosity.

Daisy sighed, and Carol realized she’d hit a sore subject. “Let’s not do this today. It’s Christmas Eve. We’re off work. I promise, even if an extraterrestrial criminal mastermind is roaming the streets of Chicago on our way to the restaurant, we will simply walk the other direction, okay? We will not be late.”

“I trust you.” Carol didn’t know what to say as Daisy turned to her and took her left hand. Daisy slipped a ring on it, and Carol noticed Daisy wore one as well. Okay. So this wasn’t just spending the night with her girlfriend or even just living together. Both of the rings were untarnished, intact, and clean, clearly reserved for their days off. Carol noted the more durable, casual silicon rings in the jewelry dish on the counter. Ah.

Daisy noted her awe and misinterpreted. “I just assumed we’d wear these today…”

“Yes! I do!” Carol said a little too fast. “I mean, I do want to wear these. They are perfect. Just so perfectly us. I love them.” She tried to hide her delighted grin, but she couldn’t help it.

Daisy sent her another “you’re being weird” look and walked out of the bathroom toward the kitchen. “Coffee time!”

—-

Carol played along the best she could during brunch. Daisy drove on the way there, which allowed Carol time to scroll through the phone camera roll of this new-and-improved version of herself. She had learned from the phone that this was Christmas 2027, but luckily, smartphones still worked in essentially the same ways. The photo cloud app told her that she and Daisy were married last spring with a honeymoon in Hawaii. She scrolled further back, seeing coworkers and friends she recognized who were apparently now married or even parents themselves, and some friends she didn’t know. A lump formed in her throat as an unspoken question was answered in two photos: the first of a frame on a wall with a familiar cat collar inside and another of a headstone with an etched image of Goose and an epithet to a beloved extraordinary pet that must have left the engravers thinking it was a prank.

Carol rushed on to the previous months, not wanting Daisy to notice her sudden sadness, but the emotional pendulum swung the other direction to the previous Christmas with Daisy’s family, then an adorable autumn romantic photoshoot, and a summer engagement before that. It struck Carol that to the average observer, they would have just looked like an ordinary couple. Even with no memory of these events, though, Carol could spy little hints of their hero life sneaking through. The sky of the autumn photoshoot, for example, had two white dots in the background and a third larger moon-like circle on the opposite side. It had to be Galadna, home of the most beautiful autumn festivals and plentiful harvest, which they traded for seafood and hydropower from their sister planet, Aladna. Of course this reality’s Carol would have taken Daisy to visit, and gotten Prince Yan’s annulment paperwork and gender-neutral royal succession legislation passed, before their wedding. What else would a hypothetical future with Daisy look like?

It wasn't the first time Carol had seen photos of herself in a life she didn't remember, but this was different. C arol felt like she was cramming for a test as they parked at the restaurant. She quickly swiped as far back as it would go and sent the tiny photo previews flying across the screen until they landed on something familiar: Christmas 2024. Goose in a Santa hat with a displeased expression, followed by photos of her house in Louisiana decorated just as she remembered it, but then there was a series of screenshots she didn’t. She read them as they walked through the parking garage.

Daisy: At the cafe, about to meet up with Mr. Hallmark Holiday Special. ;P

Then a little later: Hm, it’s been 20 minutes and no sign.

Oh wait, just had a text. His ex is back in town and they are meeting up tonight. Of course! I’m not the main girl. I’m the one who proves he’s ready to get back out there. Ah well, just my luck.

A selfie of a beautiful Daisy dressed up for her date and alone in a cozy, warmly lit, holiday-decorated cafe accompanied a Wish you were here!

Sorry if I’m disturbing your Christmas Eve! I’ll stop.

Carol hadn’t replied to any of these, which only added to her questions. Why hadn’t Past Carol responded? Clearly, things worked out in the end, but she needed more answers if this was some sort of vision from the Ghost of Christmas Future or possible alternate reality or message from fate!

Thankfully, the drag brunch crowd was loud and fun, with plenty of entertainment that helped her avoid any more revealing conversations. Carol had a hard time enjoying the performance and food, though, distracted by her need to find the snow globe in this universe/dream world/virtual reality. If it was a portal to somewhere or a magical item or a well-disguised tech device (or even a weapon?), there was one way out. Decades of experience with the weird, supernatural, and extraterrestrial told her the first problem was acquiring the object, then returning to the trigger point. Flying to Louisiana, even if she could manage it without Daisy noticing she was gone, would be pointless without the snowglobe, she reasoned. Of course, if it was an alternate reality without the snowglobe, or a one-way portal, the trigger to reverse it could be something totally different here.

Daisy took her hand under the table as the waitress cleared their plates from the table. “Back to Earth, space girl. You’re a million miles away today.”

“Sorry.” Carol smiled at Daisy and played it off as simple distraction. “What did I miss?”

“Elena was explaining her family’s Christmas traditions in Colombia,” Daisy filled Carol in as the others at the table continued the conversation—Elena’s husband, Mack; Fitz and Jemma, whom Carol knew from Shield back in 2024; Bobbi and Hunter, who had been on one disastrous yet successful mission with Carol and their presence in the friend group in 2027 amused her; and the newcomer, Fitz’s cousin Deke who was visiting for their holidays.

“We’re all meeting in Miami for New Year’s this year at my cousin’s. It’s going to be a big Rodriguez family reunion,” Elena finished and turned the conversation to Carol instead, “How about the Danvers family holidays? What are your old childhood traditions?”

“Oh uh,” Carol scrambled. Finally something she knew, and it was a topic she’d rather avoid. “Nothing much. Just the usual, I guess.”

Daisy jumped in. “We usually do Christmas with mine, but my parents took my mom’s parents on a trip to China this year and we’re on our own.”

“I never really got along with my family.” Carol shrugged. She looked to Daisy to verify this hadn’t changed, but the others took it as a hint that it had something to do with Carol’s orientation. It wasn’t that so much as not being the kind of daughter they wanted. Growing up to be a lesbian teen and young adult in the 1980s had simply been the icing on the estrangement cake. She’d never been their ladylike pageant princess, and besides, they’d been informed by the Air Force that she died in 1989, and they hadn’t made contact in all the times she’d been back to Earth as a famous superhero. Carol wasn’t surprised their brunch friends wouldn’t have known this though. Most people didn’t realize how old Carol really was since she didn’t age like a normal human. Daisy had the same trait, a fact that had kept Carol up at night wondering if it was a sign they were meant for each other. To avoid the age question, it was simply easier to give as few details as possible. That had served her well on a normal day and was proving to be the trick to surviving this weird future too.

Another of their friends, Jemma, spoke up: “They got together on Christmas, you know.”

Thank goodness Jemma’s analysis skills transferred to reading the awkward situation and calculating a smooth segue. Carol mouthed back a silent “thank you!”

Deke leaned forward and insisted, “Tell the story, c’mon, you can’t leave us hanging, Granny!”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “He calls me that because I knit, and apparently 10 p.m. is too early for bed unless you’re a grandmother.”

Carol turned her real question into a teasing one, “I’m still dying to hear the story about the women who got together on Christmas.”

She winked at Daisy and squeezed her hand, hoping she was passing off her information gathering as a game. However, the waitress arrived with their digital checks on a portable payment device, and Carol had to rein in her frustration at the timing. She had to know what she’d done between Christmas 2024 when she’d saved Daisy’s unanswered texts in her photos app and spending Christmas 2026 with Daisy’s parents and grandparents in her hometown, presumably planning their wedding in a few months’ time.

“It’s my favorite Christmas story,” Daisy flirted back as they waited for their turn to tap their phones to the payment device. The design of the thing was different now, but it was close enough to the 2024 version, and Carol had used tech from all sorts of planets in distant galaxies, that she could easily fake her way through using it as if this was her ordinary home world and time.

So she thought. The payment device beeped a clear error tone as she tried to pay for her breakfast and for Daisy’s.

“Hm, that doesn’t usually happen.” Carol blushed. She had the right orders selected on the screen, her payment app had automatically launched as it sensed the device within a few inches of her phone, and it said she had money in her account.

“Oh!” Daisy laughed. “You added mine to yours. One at a time.”

Carol’s confusion must have accidentally shown through. Daisy paused and observed her closely.

“You remember everyone has to use their own card now, right? The new consumer ID tracking laws?”

“Right!” Carol shrugged. “New laws. And tech! Changing all the time! Hard to keep up with all the places we’ve been; everywhere is different.”

She hoped that was vague enough, whether they were back to space travel or not by now.

Daisy added with a half-laugh, “Just like that time in Havana! Ugh, right?”

Carol knew that old Nick Fury code word. She played along, hoping it was a coincidence. Hoping Daisy didn’t know it. Carol finished the transaction silently and passed the device to Daisy, who did the same, but on their way out, Daisy took Carol’s gloved hand and pulled her in the opposite direction of the parking garage.

“C’mon, it’s the last day the Christmas market is open!” Daisy’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and the sudden chill of the air around them mirrored the cold fear in Carol’s bones.

“Honey, it’s freezing!” Carol pled. “Let’s go home. We have that party tonight...”

Daisy led her around a corner into an alley. Carol followed, hand in hand, helpless to resist if she was going to find out what was going on here. An opening in the dark brick of the alley led to an empty brick building with a hole in the wall where a door would normally be and no glass in the steel-framed windows. It looked like it had been…

The thought was cut off as Daisy pulled Carol in close by the lapels of her coat and kissed her deeply. Carol couldn’t think, she couldn’t panic, she couldn’t do anything but kiss Daisy like her life depended on it. She’d been waiting and wanting so long, dreamt of it a thousand times, nearly closing the distance between their lips on dozens of occasions. Now, whether she lived or died here in 2027, she had kissed a version of Daisy Johnson and her Christmas wishlist was complete.

The dreamy butterflies faded as Daisy backed away. There was a glint in Daisy’s eye and tension in her brow that sent Carol's internal alarm bells clanging.

“I thought so,” Daisy whispered.

Before Carol could react, Daisy stretched out a hand and quaked Carol with lightning speed, pinning her against the inside wall.

She demanded, “Who are you? What have you done with her?”

Carol hadn’t considered the possibility that she was the imposter here. “ I’m Carol Danvers. What I’ve been trying to figure out is who are you? What is this place? AI? Wish fulfillment tech? Parallel universe? I’ve seen it all, but nothing as real as this.” She struggled against the harmless but firm quake holding her captive.

A flicker of doubt crossed Daisy’s expression before it hardened. She raised the quake, pushing Carol up the wall six feet, then ten. “I’m going to let go now…”

Again, with no time to speak, Daisy released the quake. This time, Carol knew exactly what to do. She ignited and hovered in place with a cocky smile. “Good. You know I can fly, and you clearly have the same powers here. I’m going to come down now, and you’re not going to crush me into the Earth, okay? Let’s just talk.” Carol floated back to Daisy, who still tensed in suspicion, but allowed it.

Daisy’s voice edged on emotion as she demanded, “Who. Are. You? You look like my wife. You feel like her. But you’re not Carol Danvers. I know Carol Danvers. Better than anyone.”

“It’s me! Daisy, I swear it’s me. Listen, I don’t know how I got here, but you have to believe me.”

“Don’t lie! You called me honey five minutes ago. You didn’t know how to work the tech you were so against, but it wasn’t in protest. You really didn’t know back there, did you? You didn’t remember drag brunch, I could tell you didn’t know any of those stories, and you didn’t sing along to our Christmas songs. You scrolled your phone on the whole way here and barely talked to me. You didn’t recognize your wedding ring!” Daisy was losing control of her emotions and the building tremored the slightest bit, sending a light rumble through the winter air. Carol tried to speak but Daisy couldn’t stop, pleading now. “You don’t kiss the way my wife kisses me. You didn’t remember the snow globe ? If you’re Carol, my Carol, what happened to you?”

Carol’s voice cracked as she answered. “You’re asking the wrong question.”

“What's the right one then?” Daisy’s breath huffed out a mist in the cold air.

The snow outside caught Carol’s eye, falling into place like the puzzle pieces in her mind as she spoke: “It’s not what happened to me, but what hasn’t.”

Daisy started to speak, but Carol took Daisy's gloved hands in her own.

“Just hear me out. The last I remember, it was Christmas Eve 2024, only a few hours to Christmas Day. I asked you first thing this morning about the snow globe because I’d just opened a box with one inside. A snow globe with us in the middle. And, I know this sounds crazy, but I think it brought me here.”

Daisy stared at Carol in awe. “This is where you went that night? Why you didn’t answer my texts? I knew it didn’t take you that long to … Wait, I don’t know how much I’m supposed to tell you. I’ve traveled in time before and things got very complicated. If you’re you from 2024, there’s a lot that you shouldn’t know yet.”

“Actually…” Carol wetted her lips subconsciously. “I think that’s why I’m here, because there were things I needed to know.”

“Like what? A portal sent you through time and space so you could learn how to kiss me like you mean it?” Daisy was trying to be sarcastic, Carol knew, but with their bodies drawing closer and closer in the cold, and consequently, their lips this close together, it sounded like a sincerely tempting offer.

“No, to teach me that I could mean it without the world ending.” Carol dared to kiss Daisy again, but let her take the lead, noting even the slightest movement of her lips and tongue and hands.

“Okay, c'mon then,” Daisy whispered as they parted. She led Carol out the opposite side of the brick building with an identical crumbling hole in the wall as the door they’d entered through.

“Was this you?” Carol couldn’t help but ask as they walked through it.

“Us.” Daisy grinned and pointed up. A series of large scorch marks was clearly intended to be proof Carol had been here and battled something large, aerial, or both.

Daisy led them around a corner and Carol gasped in delight as a winter wonderland stood before them. This was like no Christmas market Carol had ever seen. The snow had piled up over days in the plaza and along the neighborhood sidewalks and storefronts with elaborate holiday window displays. It was falling again now, and shoppers around them bustled around with packages and hot beverages in hand, purchased from stands advertising cocoa, wassail, hot toddies, and more. Every lamppost was wrapped in garland and ribbon, and topped with a wreath, and music began to play as they wandered.

Daisy stopped in front of a faux cottage serving as one of dozens of seasonal gift shops. “If anywhere has a snow globe to replace the one we lost, it’s here.”

“Wait, what do you mean lost?”

Daisy worried her lip and tilted her head. “We don’t know. We put it out every year, but this year, it just wasn’t in any of the boxes. Everything else was there except the decoration that meant the most to us. It was a rough couple of days, looking everywhere we could think of, but it was gone.”

“What makes you think this place would have it? It was pretty unique.”

“Same brand.” Daisy pointed to the sign. “That’s who made the first one.”

A crafter’s logo, a name but so scripted it was nearly illegible, served as a mark of authenticity under the shop name: Shake Things Up.

“Let’s go in.” Carol figured at worst, they would have plenty of time inside to warm up as they shopped.

Inside was an old-fashioned wood cashier’s counter with a grand gold register, behind which the shopkeeper greeted them with a jolly smile. “There you are! It’s Lilia. Lilia Calderu?”

“Hi?” Carol was certain in all the long decades of her life, across civilizations and empires, she’d never met this woman.

All the same, the woman clearly knew her. “Oh Carol, you’ve done remarkably well. Not that I expected anything less from Captain Marvel.”

“Let’s keep that quiet,” Carol said, glancing around. Her identity wasn’t a secret, but she liked to stay low-key where she could and hadn’t been recognized yet by the public masses around her.

“Of course.” The shopkeeper turned to Daisy, somber now. “And you, Agent Johnson, are looking for this.”

Lilia disappeared behind a curtain to a back room and reappeared with a gold glitter-covered box that Carol recognized.

Something about Lilia’s focus on Daisy kept her quiet, however. She watched as Daisy accepted the box and Lilia raised a gentle hand to Daisy’s face, red from the cold.

“Have faith,” Lilia said, as if it was a blessing and instruction. She seemed to snap out of the mystical persona and back into shopkeeper mode. “Now, that’s $55, plus $15 for shipping and handling, and of course, instructions for resetting the clock are inside.” She raised her eyebrows as if they were in on the joke.

“Thank you.” Daisy paid with her phone, and they left the shop without browsing for anything else.

“Whoa.” Carol was certain it had been daylight when they had entered the shop, but now, seemingly only a few minutes later, they exited to a dark, snowy early evening. Most of the shoppers had gone home by now, with only a few wandering from shop to shop, and staff in holiday costumes bantered about their day while closing up for the day.

"We better get home for the Shield party, I guess," Daisy said, checking her phone for the time. "Time really flies by here."

They wandered through the market in the direction of their parking garage and passed through a grove of Christmas trees under a canopy of lights.

“Hey,” Carol pulled Daisy to the side. “I don’t know what is going to happen with what’s in that box, or even how to make it work. Or if it will. I just want to say, today with you has been a miracle.”

“A Christmas miracle?” Daisy smiled. “You were my Christmas miracle. That’s the story Jemma was going to tell. You saw my texts and flew right to me that Christmas Eve I got stood up, and I knew as soon as you walked in that cafe that you were the one I wanted. It couldn’t have been anyone else for me but you. You know, I’d always assumed that you didn’t respond because you were flying, but the timeline didn’t make sense. Now I know. You were here, right now, with this me.”

“So you’re saying, if I get home, I’ll have those texts on my phone waiting for me?”

Daisy shrugged. “If you do, remember, it’s the same the one we went to when we were the Welcome Wagon to that inhuman kid.”

“She was looking for you so she could skip high school and become an enhanced agent,” Carol recalled. “She nearly passed out when she saw us.”

“You know, that Christmas, she was telling everyone in town that she was being recruited for superhero service by Captain Marvel’s girlfriend.”

“And you never corrected her?”

“Maybe I wanted it to be true. And then it was.”

Carol couldn’t resist pulling Daisy in for a kiss. They had been walking side by side, so it was an awkward angle, but they adjusted. Whether they really had a magic snow globe portal time machine waiting for them in that box, or if they simply froze to death in the cold of the Chicago winter wonderland Christmas market, Carol would regret not taking the opportunity while she had it.

Daisy leaned into the kiss and Carol could tell she wasn’t simply teaching, but enjoying. Carol acted instinctively as her lips sucked at Daisy’s, in a move that was apparently just right. The box Daisy was holding shook with a little involuntary quake of surprise and pleasure, and the snow globe inside began to glow.

“Ready to go?” Carol asked.

“I know exactly how to get warm,” Daisy flirted. They parted, intending to walk to the parking garage, but they both felt lightheaded for a split second. They closed their eyes, and the fabric of reality slipped away into darkness.

—------------

Carol woke to the sound of Goose meowing and her phone vibrating on the coffee table with an incoming text. Groggy, Carol saw the snow globe on the table and then saw her phone light up. Who’d be texting her this late on Christmas Eve?

Daisy.

Wish you were here!

Carol bolted upright as she saw the message with the selfie. She knew with unshakable conviction that she was supposed to go fulfill Daisy’s Christmas wish. And that wish would be the Christmas miracle she’d been looking for herself. Carol packed clothes and makeup for a date but wore her supersuit to fly in. At the last minute, she impulsively grabbed the snow globe. Even if this went poorly, she could use the excuse that it was Daisy’s Christmas gift she’d forgotten to give her.

Carol shot through the sky like a meteor, high over the towns and cities of America. The next day, children would tell of watching for Santa long after they should have been in bed, and seeing instead the flight of the Christmas star.

She dimmed herself as best she could as she approached and landed in the back of the cafe, at the delivery entrance. She changed hastily between parked delivery vans, then did her makeup and tamed her hair in the side mirror of one. She stuffed her supersuit in her bag and snuck around to the front of the building. The windows revealed a date-ready gorgeous Daisy with hunched shoulders and an empty mug on the table.

Carol’s heart broke seeing her like this. Daisy checked her phone one last time, and Carol realized by now Daisy knew her date wasn't coming. She was looking for a reply from her. To those unanswered texts. Daisy put her phone in her purse and started to gather her belongings to prepare to leave. Carol knew it was now or never. With a deep breath for confidence, she opened the door of the cafe, which announced her presence with jingle bells.

At the sound, Daisy looked up casually, not expecting the person she locked eyes with. Carol rushed to her table, and Daisy rushed toward her in return, wrapping her in a hug they both desperately needed. Carol tentatively placed the lightest of kisses on Daisy’s lips. “Merry Christmas, Daisy Johnson.”

“You came!” Daisy pulled her in and kissed her harder. By now, Carol's dream-liked memories of Christmas Eve 2027 had faded in the same way ordinary dreams do, and yet, Carol remembered something about exactly how Daisy liked to be kissed. She couldn’t have said how she knew it. She just did. Carol let instinct guide her lips and the cafe began to clap around them.

One older waitress, with a nametag that said Lilia, called out, “She better have a good excuse for keeping you waiting so long, sweetheart!”

They laughed as they pulled apart. Carol remembered what was in her bag.

“I do. I had to be home to open a mystery gift for both of us.”

Daisy’s curiosity turned to wonder as Carol revealed the snow globe.

“How?” Daisy sat back down as Carol placed it on the table, and they watched the snow fall around the miniature versions of themselves. Carol sat across from her and sighed happily.

“Honestly, I have no idea. I just knew it was meant to guide me to you, somehow. Then you texted with that picture, and I thought I’d grant your Christmas wish.” Carol winked, hoping she was reading the situation right.

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect such fast delivery. Five stars.”

“Does that come with a tip?” Carol pushed. They’d been flirty before, but this held an underlying seriousness that had never been there before.

Daisy considered it, tracing her fingers over Carol’s on the table in light touch that made Carol’s heart race. “It does, actually, one I’ve been saving to share with someone special. But we’d need to go back to my place for it, plus two glasses and a corkscrew. You’d have to stay over though, never drink and fly.”

“Safety first, always.” Carol hardly knew what she was saying. All she could hear was Daisy’s low, sultry voice inviting her over for drinks and possibly more, including a sleepover.

Daisy paid her check, and Carol stored the snow globe back in her bag.

“Ready to go?” Carol asked.

Lilia the waitress wished them Merry Christmas and urged them to bundle up before leaving.

“I know exactly how to get warm,” Daisy said, though Lilia was out of earshot as she tended to the other customers celebrating the holiday together. Carol was the intended audience anyway, and the odd familiarity of the words comforted her. She couldn’t place why exactly, but somehow she knew that by walking out of that cafe side by side with Daisy, this was going to be the happiest Christmas thus far of her long life.

Inside the cafe, a “waitress” who had lived much longer than Carol could imagine, the benevolent witch Lilia Calderu, watched them in satisfaction through the decorated cafe window, knowing that not only would they have a magical holiday this year, but also Daisy and Carol, together with friends and family, would make many, many more.

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chicgeekgirl89 · 1 year ago

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Fandom: 911 Lone Star Summary: When Carlos receives a late night call from one of his sisters who is worried about the health of his nephew, T.K. doesn't hesitate to jump in and show the entire family why he's worthy of Carlos' love. Thanks to @carlos-tk, @thisbuildinghasfeelings, @whatsintheboxmh, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @strandnreyes, @carlos-in-glasses, and @bonheur-cafe for the WIP Wednesday tags. I hope you will accept this instead, belated as it is! A/N: This is my 100th fic on AO3!! 🍾🍾🍾 (Not my 100th fic ever, many of them never made the transfer from ff.net, but still!) I've been sitting on this one for a while and seeing T.K. shine feels like it's worthy of being #100. Also Adriana and Francesca weren't supposed to be in this one, but they literally barged through those hospital doors and there was nothing I could do to stop them. I couldn't love them more!

Read on AO3

“Sooo…never again, right?” Carlos asks.

“Oh my god never again,” T.K. agrees fervently. “Why were the plates so weird? Some of them weren’t even plates at all. And the food was…bad.”

“So bad,” Carlos says. “Tiny and bad.”

“Three hours. We were there three hours,” T.K. says in disbelief as he slows down at a stoplight. “Why did we have to wait like thirty minutes between courses?”

“The menu said it was to give us time to renew our digestive energies and be more present in the dining experience,” Carlos says.

“I didn’t know my digestive energies needed to be renewed.”

“Me neither.”

It had taken them months to get a reservation at the trendiest new restaurant in town and they’d both been excited for the occasion. The menu promised a foodie paradise with unique dishes, creative presentation, and an emphasis on sustainability. They’d gotten dressed up and ready for a fun date night out only to be disappointed the moment they’d walked in the door.

The place had been crowded, they were practically elbow to elbow with the tables next to them. Carlos had learned the intimate details of one couple’s fertility issues and another couple’s trouble with their neighbors.

Then the food had started coming and been a complete disaster. Carlos considered himself something of a foodie, and T.K.’s New Yorker palate had sampled a number of cuisines over the years, but this had been the worst food Carlos had ever eaten. He hadn’t been able to identify a single item on any of his plates and his tongue longed for something with even a hint of flavor. The plate that held a single, lukewarm radish had nearly been his undoing.

Overall it had been three hours of bland food, awkward company, and not at all what either of them had imagined.

“I’m starving. Can we please pick up something on the way home?” T.K. asks, his stomach letting out a gurgle as if to affirm his statement.

“God yes. I think Chu’s is still open, right?”

Carlos pulls out his phone, but it lights up with a call before he can check to see Chu’s hours. “Why’s my sister calling?”

T.K. glances over at him. “Which one?”

“Lucía,” Carlos says. It’s not typical of his sister to call at this hour out of the blue and he feels his internal warning bells activate as he picks up the call. “Luci? Que pasó?”

“Hey Carlos,” she says, sounding tired and stressed. “Sorry for calling, I know it’s late.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “We’re just on our way home from dinner. What’s going on?”

“I don’t—I’m probably overreacting,” she says. “It’s just that Justin is out of town for work and I’m—“

Now he’s really worried. “Lucí, it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Sebastian woke up sick a couple days. I didn’t think it was a big deal, both boys are sick all the time from daycare and school, but he wasn’t any better today, so I took him to the doctor. They said he’s fine, likely just a virus or something, but…his fever won’t break and he keeps saying his belly hurts.”

Carlos can hear the deep seated worry in his sister’s voice and it rocks him to his core. His sister is an amazing mom, fearless and sure. To hear her so uncertain is throwing him off.

“I didn’t know if maybe T.K. could just give me some advice or something?” she says, ending it like a question.

He looks over at his fiancé. “What’s going on?” T.K. asks,.

“Sebastian’s sick,” Carlos says. “Do you mind?”

“No, no, put her on speaker,” T.K. says immediately, turning his eyes back to the road as the light changes.“Hey Lucía,” he says loudly so she can hear him.

“Hey T.K.,” she says. “I’m so sorry, I know people probably ask you for medical help all the time.”

“It’s not a problem. Tell me what’s going on,” T.K. says.

“He won’t eat, he’s barely drinking. His fever had been holding steady at around a hundred, but it just spiked up to one oh two. I’ve given him medicine, done cold washcloths, I don’t know what else to try.”

“And the doctor said what exactly?”

“That it’s probably a stomach virus,” Lucía says.

T.K. mulls that over for a minute. “Aren’t we like fifteen minutes from their place?” he asks Carlos.

Carlos nods.

“Okay, Lucía we’re going to swing by, all right?” T.K. says, flipping his blinker on to get them turned around back the way they’d just come.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that—“

“We’re coming Luci,” Carlos says. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, thank you,” she says, relief flooding her voice and loosening the knot of fear in Carlos’ chest.

He hangs up and looks at T.K. “It’s probably just a stomach bug.”

“Probably,” T.K. agrees. “But if it makes her feel better to have someone give her advice it’s worth going over.”

Carlos’ heart goes soft at those words. He’d never imagined he’d be with someone like T.K. Someone so kind and good, someone who would drive to his sister’s house at nine o’clock at night just to assuage her fears. It’s beyond his wildest dreams.

They pull into the driveway of the ranch style home about ten minutes later, T.K.’s ambulance driving having shaved a few minutes off their time and a few years off of Carlos’ life. At least they’re not driving the Camaro tonight so Carlos didn’t have to fear for the safety of his baby as they sped through yellow lights and weaved in and out of traffic.

Lucía opens the door before they even knock and the relief Carlos felt a few minutes ago evaporates at the sight of her worried face. She was holding back on the phone; in person she looks even more terrified and exhausted than she sounded. “Hey guys,” she says. “I’m so sorry to drag you all the way over here.”

“Stop apologizing,” Carlos admonishes her immediately as they step inside. “That’s what family is for.”

Sebastian lays on the couch in the living, looking younger and tinier than his six years, his face pale and drawn. There’s an episode of Paw Patrol playing on the television mounted above the fireplace and he has a blanket pulled all the way up to his chin. Carlos can see Fuzzy, his comfort bear, peeking out over the top.

“Hey buddy,” he says, crouching down and giving his nephew a smile. “Tummy bothering you?”

Sebastian nods but doesn’t say anything, another sign that something is wrong. Usually he’s a chatterbox, happy to talk about school or his friends or soccer. Carlos smiles wider, despite the worry swirling in his gut, trying for calm and reassuring uncle. “Do you remember my boyfriend T.K.? From the party at Abuela and Abuelo’s house?” Carlos asks and Sebastian’s eyes move over his shoulder to where T.K. is standing behind him. He gets another nod.

“He’s going to take a look at you, okay?” Carlos says, standing up and moving back to where Lucía is anxiously hovering behind the couch so that T.K. has space to work.

“Hey Sebastian,” T.K. says as he takes Carlos’ spot. “You know I’m a paramedic, right?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, his voice small.

“Do you know what a paramedic does?”

“Help people feel better?”

T.K. smiles and nods. “That’s right. So let’s see if I can help you feel better, sound good?”

“Mhmm.”

“Awesome. Okay, I’m going to pull down the blanket and take a look. You tell me if anything hurts, all right?”

He gently pulls down the blanket and places his fingers on Sebastian’s wrist, looking at his watch while he does it. He pulls out a stethoscope he had in the car and listens to the little boy’s lungs, then takes his temperature with the thermometer Lucía has on the coffee table. He narrates quietly the entire time, letting Sebastian know what he’s doing as he does it.

“Okay, let’s see that belly,” he finally says with a smile.

He pulls up the top of Sebastian’s Power Rangers pajamas, talking to him softly while his hands palpate his abdomen. “You like Power Rangers huh? Which one is your favorite?”

“Red,” Sebastian says immediately. “He’s the head guy.”

“He is,” T.K. says. “I always liked the Green one though.”

Sebastian winces and makes a noise that breaks Carlos’ heart in half. T.K.’s hands immediately immediately stop. “Sorry buddy,” he says. “That hurt?”

Sebastian nods and T.K. gently puts his pajama shirt back into place. “I’m going to go talk to your mom and tío. You stay right here and make sure this couch doesn’t go anywhere, okay?”

He gets to his feet and nods toward the hallway where Carlos and Lucía follow him out of Sebastian’s earshot. “His pulse is a little fast and there is some tenderness in his abdomen,” T.K. says quietly. “That coupled with the fever and the lethargy is definitely concerning.”

Lucía puts her hand on Carlos’ arm and he covers it with his own in an attempt at reassurance. “So what should I do? Wait until the morning and see how he is? Give him more meds?” she asks.

“Considering his symptoms, I would recommend you take him to the ER,” T.K. says gently.

She blows out a breath as Carlos’ stomach drops. “Okay,” she says. “Okay um, okay. I’ll just wake up Nicholas and…”

“No, no, no,” Carlos says quickly. “No I’ll call Mom and ask her to come be with Nicky. I’ll stay until she gets here.”

“And I’ll go with you to the ER,” T.K. offers. “I can walk you through all the paperwork, field questions from the doctors, whatever you need.”

“Seriously?” Lucía looks teary eyed. “You’ll come?”

“Of course,” T.K. says. “Why don’t you go grab whatever might help keep him calm while we’re there? iPad or a book maybe. It could be a long wait.”

“Okay, right. Yes. Give me like five minutes and I’ll be ready,” she says, rushing off to go gather supplies.

“What are you thinking?” Carlos asks immediately.

T.K. has his neutral paramedic face on, but Carlos has learned to read between the lines. “I’m thinking it could be a number of things,” T.K. says. “Just a stomach bug maybe, but even if it is I think he’s dehydrated. And given his symptoms and the decline, I’m also worried about an impacted or perfed bowel or maybe even appendicitis.”

“How worried?”

T.K. blows out a breath. “Worried enough that I wouldn’t wait until the morning to try and get him some treatment.”

His words unlock a whole new level of fear that Carlos has never experienced before, and it takes a lot for him to stay calm as he calls his mom and explains the situation. Lucía returns with a tote bag full of supplies and T.K. scoops up Sebastian, carrying him out to the car with Lucía on his heels.

“Mom says she’ll be here in fifteen minutes. I’ll be right behind you,” Carlos promises as T.K. sets Sebastian gently in the backseat, pillowing his head on Lucía’s lap.

“Can you call Justin?” Lucía asks, looking like she’s barely holding it together. “He knows Sebby’s sick but I want him to know we’re heading to the ER.”

“Yes,” Carlos says. “I’ll call him as soon as I’m back inside.”

“Hey,” T.K. catches his eye as he climbs into the driver’s seat. “I’ve got them, okay?”

“I know you do,” Carlos says and then the door is shut and they’re gone, leaving him standing in the driveway, his heart in his stomach.

He trudges back into the house and sinks onto the couch, eyes glued to Nicholas’ sleeping form on the baby monitor. He’s not a parent, so why does this feel so awful?

It takes him a minute to emotionally prepare for this phone call and he has to take a deep breath before tapping Justin’s name on his screen.

It rings and rings and then sends him to voicemail, so he tries again. And again. The third time, Justin finally picks up.

“Dude, if this is a butt dial I’m going to kill you,” his brother-in-law says groggily.

Carlos forgot that it’s nearly midnight on the east coast right now. “Justin,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“What’s wrong? Are Lucía and the boys okay?” Justin immediately sounds more awake now that he’s heard Carlos’ voice.

“Everyone’s safe,” Carlos tells him quickly. “I’m at your place with Nicholas because Sebastian’s feeling worse. She and T.K. are on the way to the ER with him.”

There’s a pause, Carlos can practically feel Justin’s panic through the phone. “Okay, um, okay,” he finally says. “Shit, I’m in Atlanta. There won’t be any flights for hours…”

“My mom’s on her way here to stay with Nicholas,” Carlos says. “I’ll head to the hospital and keep you updated, okay?”

“Yeah, okay, um, thanks Carlos,” Justin says, sounding a little hoarse. “Please um, please tell them I love them, okay? And that I’ll be on the first flight out I can get.”

“I will.”

He hangs up just as the front door opens and his mom comes in. “Carlitos,” she says softly and he immediately gets up to hug her. “How is Sebby?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure. They probably just got to the ER, it could be hours before we know anything.”

“And Lucía?”

“She’s worried,” he says.

“As are we all,” she says, empathy all over her face. “T.K. went with her?”

“Yeah, he said he’d help with things there.”

She smiles softly and touches his face. “You picked a good one mijo. Not every man would drop everything to help his boyfriend’s family.”

There’s a lump in Carlos throat and he struggles to speak past it. “I know.”

“You should get going.”

“Okay. Nicholas is asleep in his crib. I called Justin, he’s working on getting a flight back.”

She nods. “Keep me posted.”

“I will.”

The drive to the hospital is so lonely and silent that it makes each minute feel even longer beneath the glow of the streetlights. How on earth did he go from having dinner with his boyfriend to taking his nephew to the ER? It’s ridiculous. They should be home right now, cuddling on the couch or the bed, watching some stupid show that neither of them really cares about because what they’re actually interested in is making out with each other.

Instead he’s about to spend hours in a hard plastic chair praying that a six year old he loves dearly is going to be all right.

He’s so anxious to get there that he doesn’t realize until he’s through the doors that he has no idea where he’s going. Or even if they’re gong to let him stay. Surely they’re not going to let three adults hang out in the ER in the middle of the night when one would suffice.

He forgot he has T.K. Strand in his corner.

“How can I help you?” the nurse asks when he steps up to the counter.

“I’m here for my nephew? Sebastian Bryant? He came in with my sister,” Carlos says, feeling awkward.

“Oh you’re Carlos,” she says immediately. “T.K.’s boyfriend.”

“I—yeah,” Carlos says, surprised by her familiarity.

“I’m Stella. It’s so nice to finally meet you, although I wish it wasn’t because your nephew’s in here. T.K. talks about you all the time.”

“He does?”

“Oh my god, try getting him to stop. Carlos this, my boyfriend that, and now I see why. You two are gorgeous together,” she says, flashing him a smile. “Here come with me. I’ll take you to them. Darlene? Can you cover the desk?”

Stella takes him down a hall, past the general area of the ER to a more closed off section. It’s not a room, but it’s quieter here, and Carlos can hear T.K.’s voice even before Stella pulls back the curtain to reveal him.

“Found someone who belongs to you,” Stella says.

T.K.’s eyes find him, soft and relieved. “Hey, I was just about to text you an update. Thanks so much Stella.”

“No problem. I’m going to check and see where we’re at with the tests and then I’ll be back.”

“How’s it going?” Carlos asks quietly.

Sebastian is asleep in the bed, an IV in his arm and Fuzzy tucked in beside him. Lucía is sitting in a chair next to him, his little fingers curled around hers.

“They’re going to take him for a CT as soon as one opens up,” she says quietly. “He was crying when we got here, but they gave him some pain medication and he fell asleep like ten minutes ago.”

“Good,” Carlos says in relief. It feels so much better to know that there are people actively working to help Sebastian. “Nicholas is with Mom, he was still asleep when I left. And Justin’s getting on the first flight he can in the morning.”

“Okay.”

Lucía’s face crumples and she immediately puts her hands over her mouth to stifle a sob. T.K. looks at Carlos. “I’m going to go grab us some coffee,” he says, slipping discreetly out of the room.

Carlos squats down by his sister’s chair and puts a hand on her knee. She immediately covers it with her own and squeezes. “I’m sorry,” she says. “He just—he’s so little. He was so scared when we got here, it’s so bright and they put in the IV and he cried and I just, I need Justin to be here, because I am not strong enough for this.”

“He’s coming,” Carlos says. “He’s coming as fast as he can. And until he does I’m here, all right? I’m here with you and Mom is with Nicholas. Sebastian is going to be fine. He’s scared, but you’re taking such great care of him. You are an amazing mom. You’re doing everything right.”

She nods a couple times, clearly trying to internalize his words before taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes. “You know um, T.K. is pretty amazing too,” she tells him, wiping at her eyes. “I thought we’d be here for hours before we got answers, but he called ahead in the car and that nurse, Stella, was waiting for us. As soon as we were in the door they were drawing blood and starting tests. It’s like they rolled out the red carpet.” She nods toward the doorway. “Not everyone would do that kind of thing for someone they barely know.”

“That’s T.K.,” Carlos says, warmth blooming through his chest at her words. “He’s…incredible.”

“You know, I already liked him a lot, but now…” She quirks a smile. “You’d better hold onto him.”

Carlos nods, heart fluttering away in his chest. “That’s the plan.”

T.K. comes back with coffee right about the same time someone shows up to take Sebastian for his CT scan. He’s unhappy to be woken up, but mollified when Carlos promises to take him for ice cream once a week for the next month.

The nurse is incredible, telling Sebastian he’s going to go on a ride in a spaceship, although that does nothing to help Carlos’ heart when they start the sedation and he watches Sebastian’s eyelids flutter shut, his body going limp in a weirdly unnatural way. He’s gone for over an hour, all of them sipping tepid hospital coffee in a desperate attempt not to fall asleep as the clock ticks later and later.

When the orderly returns with him he’s completely zonked out and Carlos hopes he’ll stay that way. It’s not long after that an ER doctor shows up and informs them that the CT scan is indicating appendicitis, despite Sebastian’s slightly atypical presentation of symptoms. Lucía takes the news better than Carlos thought she might, she’s clearly relieved to have an answer and a defined course of action, even if it does mean a surgery they’re told is being scheduled for the early hours of the morning. Someone will be by soon to get them admitted and transferred to a room for the night.

“You guys should go home” she says. “You’ve done more than enough, really. He’s just going to sleep until it’s time for surgery and they’re not going to let you come into the room with us anyway.”

“Don’t worry about them kicking us out,” T.K. says immediately. “If you want us to stay that won’t be a problem.”

She smiles at him. “You’ve done more than enough tonight. I’ll be fine. I promise. Go home and get some sleep.”

Carlos is reluctant to leave her, but she’s right. There’s no point in staying when it’s so late and nothing is going to happen until morning anyway. The moment of crisis is past and now there’s nothing to do but wait.

“I’ll come back in the morning for his surgery,” Carlos says.

“You don’t have to—“ She must catch the look of determination in his eyes because she cuts herself off and nods. “Okay. Thank you.”

He stands and she meets him with a brief hug before she turns to T.K. “I really can’t thank you enough. I don’t think I would have made it tonight without you T.K.,” she says.

“Yes you would have,” he says graciously. “But I’m glad I could help. If anything changes in the night you have my number, don’t be afraid to call.”

“I will.”

Carlos can’t help but notice that T.K. gets a slightly longer hug than he did and the warm feeling in his chest only intensifies. He reaches for T.K.’s hand as they head out into the hall and T.K. gives him a tired smile in return. “Oh, hang on one second,” he says as they pass the nurses station, letting go of Carlos’ hand. “I’ll be right back.”

He jogs over and flashes that winning smile again at the nurse who’s there, not Stella this time, and chats with her for a minute before returning to Carlos’ side. “What was that about?” Carlos asks, interlacing their fingers together again.

“I just wanted to make sure they put Sebastian in a private room,” T.K. says. “They have the space, Natalie says it won’t be a problem.”

“Natalie huh?” Carlos says as they exit the automatic doors and head for the darkened parking structure. “She also falls victim to your beautiful eyes and charming smile?”

“Victim?” T.K. scoffs. “No one is a victim. I have paid for these hospital perks with dozens of coffees and donuts and muffins and even the occasional Target run. This is just good natured southern kindness being returned.”

Carlos laughs out loud. “Right. Not a single bit of it has to do with your innate charm and that smile that brings people to their knees and makes them feel like they’re only person you’ve ever cared about.”

“I mean, it had to start somewhere,” T.K. says, flashing him that exact smile. “But we’ve come a long way since then.”

“Well thank you,” Carlos says, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. “I honestly I don’t how to say thank you enough. My family is…they’re so important to me and I…”

“Hey.” T.K. tugs him to a stop and meets his gaze under the half light of the parking garage. “They’re important to me too.”

The drive home is blessedly short and they fall into bed exhausted at around midnight only to wake up again at five to head back over to the hospital. Carlos tells T.K. he doesn’t have to come, but the look he gets shuts him up immediately. T.K. is clearly invested.

They stop for coffee on the way, real, decent coffee, and some bagels, plus a cake pop for Sebastian after surgery.

He gets a text update as they’re pulling up to the hospital again; Justin is on a flight and should get there by the time the surgery is over. It’s a relief to know his sister will have her support to lean on again in the near future.

Once they arrive Carlos sits back and watches in wonder as T.K. works his magic. Someone shows up to give Sebastian not one, not two, but three different stuffed toys along with a coloring pack and some Hot Wheels cars. T.K. sits down on his bed and explains the whole surgery in terms a six year old an understand, and when the time comes, Sebastian is whisked off without a single tear.

He’s seen T.K. at work before, but this is an entirely different level of incredible. He knows almost every nurse, every doctor, every orderly that they see, and if he doesn’t, by the time they leave he’s made them feel like an old friend. People can’t seem to do enough for him.

Justin gets there about twenty minutes after the surgery starts, exhausted and haggard looking, his collared shirt buttoned the wrong way and his hair looking like he didn’t even comb it. T.K. somehow procures fresh, non-cafeteria coffee for him, whispering something about the doctor’s lounge, as well as a banana and a granola bar.

Everything goes exactly as expected and soon enough the doctor is back to let them know that Sebastian was a champ during surgery and they expect a quick recovery. Lucía and Justin head back to wait with him until the sedation wears off, while Carlos and T.K. continue hanging out in the waiting room until Sebastian can have more visitors.

When Carlos hears a loud commotion behind him, he knows without even looking that reinforcements have arrived. Adriana and Francesca have shown up with more balloons than a circus, a gigantic stuffed bear, and several bags of god only knows what else. “Oh my god, Cesca don’t let them float away,” Adriana is saying as they try and get through the automatic doors that keep closing before all the balloons can make it through.

“I’m not!” Francesca snaps back. “It’s the stupid doors! You could like try to help!”

“With what hands?” Adriana cries, her arms full of stuffed bear.

“Ah, perfect,” Carlos says weakly, looking at T.K. who is already smiling at his sister and cousin’s antics.

“Carlos! Get over here!” Francesca barks and he stands with a sigh, going to help her get in the doorway.

“Hello, good morning, how are you guys doing?” Carlos prompts as he grabs the brightly colored strings and yanks them inside, the balloons bopping along behind and nearly smacking an elderly woman in the face.

“I mean you’re both awake and have coffee, so I assume you’re fine,” she tells him as she plonks into a seat across from T.K.

“Yeah, geez, way to make our nephew’s surgery about you,” Adriana says with a roll of her eyes.

Carlos doesn’t bother to remind her that technically Sebastian is a cousin to her, not a nephew; labels other than “familia” ceased to have any meaning to them long ago. “So what’s the deal? Is he okay?” Francesca asks.

“The surgery went well,” T.K. says. “Sebastian’s appendix didn’t rupture, so the chances of infection are low. He should be able to head home in a day or so.”

“Phew. Poor little dude. This sucks,” Francesca says.

“But he’s okay,” Adriana says. “That’s what’s important. Everyone is okay. And all his friends are going to be very jealous when he gets back to school.”

She opens one of the bags and pulls out a tray of something that immediately fills the air with the scent of tomatoes and cheese. “Why do you have tamales?” Carlos asks. “It’s ten am.”

“Because Mom told us to go by the house and bring them over,” Francesca says. “She doesn’t, and I quote, ‘want anyone eating that hospital garbage, it will rot their stomachs.’”

“Sounds like your mom,” T.K. says with a cheeky smile as he reaches for one of the tamales.

“We also have…taquitos, mac and cheese for Sebastian, and…arroz con pollo,” Francesca says, checking the other bags.

“Your mom just had this all on hand?” T.K. asks, his mouth full.

“Tía Andrea always has everything on hand,” Adriana says.

Despite his initial scoffing, by the time Justin comes back an hour later to tell them Sebastian is up for visitors, Carlos has eaten three tamales, half a dozen taquitos, and a plateful of arroz con pollo. Apparently hospitals make him hungry. They’ve also fed four nurses and an orderly that T.K. knows, and they haven’t even put a dent in what’s there.

Justin looks a little less of a mess now, he’s clearly spent some time in front of a mirror and his shirt is buttoned the right way now. He’s smiling in spite of the tiredness in his eyes, which widen in delight at the sight of the food. “Oh thank god for Andrea,” he says, immediately reaching for a taquito.

“Hey, how do you know it wasn’t us?” Adriana asks, clearly offended.

Justin fixes her with a look and she shrugs. “I mean, yeah it was Tía Andrea, but we’re the ones that brought it over here,” she says.

“Thank you for your service,” Justin says around a mouthful.

“How’s Sebastian?” Francesca asks.

“Better than Lucía or me,” he says. “He says it barely hurts and he’s very excited to have a cool scar.” He looks at T.K. “Apparently you’ve really made this hospital experience feel like a vacation T.K.”

“I’m just glad he’s doing all right,” T.K. says.

“Can we see him?” Carlos asks.

“Yeah,” Justin says. “Lucí sent me to get you all.”

“Well then let’s get this party moved!” Francesca says, closing up the tupperware with incredible speed built from years of cleaning up house parties and hiding the evidence before their parents got home.

They make quite a parade marching through the pediatric wing of the hospital with balloons and bears and food galore. But then, the Reyes clan usually does. They’re not exactly known for being a calm and quiet bunch.

Sebastian is sitting up in bed eating a popsicle, looking like the happiest human alive even with an IV in his arm and stitches in his side. “Sebby!” Francesca says happily. “You’re looking good there buddy!”

“You brought me balloons?” he asks as Lucía quickly rescues his popsicle, which is in danger of falling to the floor.

“We brought you balloons and a bear and macaroni and cheese from Abuela,” Adriana tells him.

“Can I have mac and cheese right now?” he asks Lucía.

“Let’s maybe wait until after the doctor comes by again,” she says.

“But then I can have it? And the ice cream Tío Carlos promised me?”

It gets a chuckle from everyone in the room.

The women start to fuss, setting up the balloons and bear in the best possible place, but Carlos’ eyes are on T.K. who is not-so-subtly checking out all the monitors and lines, ensuring that things are exactly as they should be. God, he loves this man. He loves him more than he thought he could ever love a human being.

“Well this looks like a party!” A man whose name tag identifies him as Dr. Nguyen, comes into the room, iPad in hand. Carlos assumes this must be the surgeon. “Sebastian who are all these fine people who came to visit you?”

“This is my Tía Cesca and my Tía Adriana. They brought me balloons,” Sebastian says, pointing to them in turn.

“Well that’s very nice.”

“And that’s my Tío Carlos,” Sebastian says.

“Oh, is this the Tío you were telling me about? The one who’s a paramedic and helped you feel better?”

“No, my Tío Carlos is just a police officer,” Sebastian says. “My Tío T.K. is the one who’s a paramedic.” He turns his head to look at where T.K. is standing next to his IV pole. “Paramedics help people feel better. Right Tío?”

T.K. freezes for a second, his eyes locking with Carlos’. “Um, yeah,” he says finally. “Yes, that’s right. Paramedics help people. And then doctors help them even more.”

“Yeah, Dr. Nguyen took my appendix out,” Sebastian says. He looks the doctor square in the face. “My mom says you have to tell me if I can have mac and cheese or not.”

Dr. Nguyen laughs. “I can do that. Let’s give you a little check up and see.”

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Francesca says, which is hilarious given that she hasn’t let anyone have a single minute of privacy since the day she was born.

They step out into the hall, Adriana and Francesca immediately abandoning T.K. and Carlos to go look for hot doctors. Carlos runs a hand through his curls and looks at where his boyfriend is leaning up against the wall. “Well I guess we know who his new favorite tío is,” he says.

T.K. looks up, uncharacteristically nervous. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. You’re not just a police officer.”

Carlos chuckles. “Oh I’m sure he meant it exactly like that. Tío Carlos is just a tío who wrestles and gives him ice cream. Tío T.K. saves lives. You made an impression.”

T.K. blushes. “I’m glad I could help.” His gaze softens. “I can’t believe he called me tío.”

And despite the fact that no one in the family has ever referred to T.K. that way before, Carlos isn’t surprised in the least. “Is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” T.K. says quickly. “Yeah I—as long as you and your family are okay with it. I don’t…I wouldn’t want him to be confused.”

“He’s not confused.” Carlos’ words are soft and he reaches down, intertwining their fingers. “I don’t think anybody is confused anymore about why you’re so important to me.”

T.K. meets his gaze and Carlos feels like he can see all the way into the vulnerability at the core of this man who came here so broken and lost, and is just starting to figure out how vital he is to everyone around him. Carlos leans in and their lips meet, soft and sweet. It’s not enough to really say thank you, he’s not sure he can ever truly find a way, but in this moment he knows he’ll try. Everyday for the rest of his life if he needs to.

The door to Sebastian’s room opens and Carlos reluctantly pulls back, keeping their hands firmly clasped even when T.K. starts to pull away a little. “Bad news,” Lucía says. “Mac and cheese is off the table until tomorrow. T.K., he would like to know if you have any connections that can get him jello instead. But only the red kind. Not the green.”

“Absolutely,” T.K. says, already pulling out his phone to send a text. “Red jello coming right up.”

Carlos shakes his head and smiles as they reenter the room, Sebastian’s face lighting up when he sees T.K. again. Carlos has always thought T.K. seemed like magic. And now everyone else can see it too.

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #911lsfic #Tarlos Fic #The Reyes Family (My Version)#Adriana and Francesca #Whump of a minor #Appendicitis #Family #Competent T.K. Strand #T.K. shows off his paramedic skills

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punchdrunkdoc · 5 months ago

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Part 3, Chapter 23

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

Okay, this is an extra looooong chapter. But we're finally at the end of Part 3! And the last line in this chapter was written when I first started plotting this fic, over 18 months and 230 000 words ago...so I'm a little excited for you guys to finally read it!

——��—–

PART 3

Chapter 23

The hostess led Cross and Ranieri through the busy restaurant, and Matt tracked their movements as they weaved between tables, the scent of their mingled colognes getting stronger as they came closer to his and Calina’s corner. He had a brief moment of concern that Cross was headed straight for them - that somehow Cross had discovered that Matt was looking into him, and had come here to confront him-

But then Cross paused at the table behind Matt to greet the couple seated there. Cross obviously knew them well, launching into a recap of his golf game from that morning and laughing with the couple about the new wait staff at the country club. Cross was in his slightly smarmy, exuberant, rich-guy mode - a persona that Matt had started calling his ‘politician guise’. It was a far cry from the real Cross - the cold sociopathic monster who enjoyed torturing people - and the falsity of it grated on Matt.

After a few moments of inane chatter, Cross and Ranieri moved on, heading for the back of the restaurant where the VIP section resided, separated from the rest of the public by a locked door.

“Will you be able to hear what’s going on in there?” Calina asked quietly.

Matt shook his head. “I doubt it. There’s soundproofing in the walls.”

“Soundproofing? In an already private room? That just screams shady, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m going to have to get closer - I can only pick up indistinct murmurs from here.”

“While you do that, I’ll contact Anya.”

“Anya? Why?”

“Because I think Ranieri’s presence here ties everything together.”

———

After the initial shock of seeing Ranieri had worn off, Calina realised that it shouldn’t have been a shock at all. It made complete sense. “We always suspected that the man behind the fear pheromone was the one who activated me to kill Governor Benson.”

Matt nodded. “In order to guarantee the supply of Arsonium for the pheromone.”

“Right. Aminev was the Red Room employee who dosed me for that assassination attempt, and Anya mentioned that she’d found his name in Ranieri’s laptop - Ranieri was looking for him after he defected from Volkov’s group. I’m guessing he found him - either he sent Aminev to Cross, knowing that he’d pay through the nose for a Black Widow to control, or Aminev told Ranieri about Cross.”

“Either way, Ranieri’s obviously decided to get into bed with another sociopath looking for power.”

“We need to find out what he’s telling Cross about the Widows and Volkov’s work.”

Matt nodded again, looking grim. “Agreed.” He gave Calina a quick kiss on the cheek and set off to do just that.

Calina watched Matt head for the restroom two doors down from the private VIP room, and hoped he’d be able to hear what Cross and Ranieri were up to from there.

Because this whole thing was giving her a really bad feeling.

The moment she’d set eyes on Ranieri, a pit of anxiety had opened up in her gut. It was the collision of her two worlds - her present with Matt, and her past with the Widows - and she knew it could only portend disaster for the future. Cross was powerful enough as it was, with all his wealth and influence and the fear pheromone he was using to blackmail key figures in the city. Add in mind-control serum or another Black Widow assassin to that mix and he could very possibly take over the world.

Calina grabbed her phone from her purse and sent off a message to Anya, updating her about Cross’ involvement in the serum, and the unexpected appearance of Ranieri. She’d call the other Widow later and give her more details, but she knew Anya would be intrigued enough by her quick missive to start digging and confirm Calina’s theory.

Meanwhile…she’d wait.

She was used to it. So many of her past missions were exercises in patience. In biding her time watching her marks, and waiting for the right moment to strike. But back then there were no idle thoughts to distract her, and definitely no fears or worries for her partner on the job.

This felt different. Her head was spinning with worry for what this new complication meant. And worry for Matt, who was becoming obsessed with taking down Cross.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait - and worry - for long. Ten minutes later, Matt emerged from his stake-out in the restroom and made his way back to her.

She smiled at him - an almost involuntary reflex now whenever she saw him. She’d asked him once, if he could sense that. They’d been lying in bed, her head on his chest, his fingers trailing up and down her bare back as they filled each other in on their day. “I caught my reflection in the window today when you walked in,” she’d told him, recounting the moment he’d met her at the coffee shop around the corner from his office. “I was smiling like an idiot, for all the world to see.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he’d replied.

“No, just strange. Considering the way I was raised.”

“Well I like that you smile like an idiot when you see me.”

She laughed. Then tilted her head up to look at him. “But can you tell? When you walk into a room, can you sense that I’m smiling at you?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then brushed his thumb over her lips. “I don’t need to sense these move to know you’re happy to see me. I know in other ways.”

She’d spent the rest of the night trying to elicit what those ‘other ways’ were, using all her feminine tricks and wiles to cajole the secret from him, but he didn’t budge.

At this moment though, if he sensed she was happy to see him, he didn’t let on. There was no smile on his face as he approached their table. In fact, there was a stiffness to his gait that wasn’t there before, and his stubbled jaw was clenched.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I need to go. They’re leaving through a back entrance, and I don’t want to lose this chance to find out what they’re up to.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at home later. Be careful.”

She went to put her hand on his, where it rested on his cane, but he pulled away from her touch. “I need to go,” he repeated, and strode for the door.

The bad feeling in Calina’s gut grew stronger.

And it didn’t let up over the next several hours, as Matt followed Cross and Ranieri all over the city, and she was left to pace his living room floor alone.

He eventually returned as dawn was starting to break across the sky. Calina was napping on the couch, exhaustion and worry leading to a fretful, interrupted sleep. As his key turned in the door, she sat upright and called out. “Matt, are you okay?”

He didn’t look okay. He trudged into the living room, footfalls heavy and slow, and collapsed on to the chair opposite her. His 5 o’clock shadow had darkened into scruff and the suit he’d worn to dinner last night was rumpled and creased. He rubbed his hands over his face then massaged his temples, as if fighting off a headache.

“Matt,” she said again, softer this time. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Hours and hours of fucking nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

Matt sighed and let his head fall back against the chair. “I caught up with Cross and Ranieri after they left the restaurant, and tailed them to a club on the upper east side - an exclusive members-only club that was harder for me to get into than fucking Fort Knox.”

“But you managed right? I mean, you’re Daredevil, a few locked doors are nothing to you,” she tried to make her comment light, to help counteract the air of anger and frustration that seemed to simmer beneath Matt’s weary state.

It didn’t work. Matt just continued to recap his night in the same flat, bitter tone. “I eventually managed to find a way on to the roof that wasn’t guarded by a camera or security guard, but I couldn’t hear anything of use - it was too loud and packed with other people to make out Cross and Ranieri’s conversation. They left the club after a couple of hours, and split up. I followed Ranieri to the Waldorf, but he went straight to his room. He didn’t meet up with anyone else.”

Calina did the math in her head, and realised that several hours were still unaccounted for in Matt’s story. He never came home for his Daredevil suit to go out patrolling…so what did he do instead?

“Then what?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been gone practically all night, Matt.”

Matt sat forward, dangled his hands between his legs and stared at the floor. “I needed to think.”

Calina swallowed, suddenly more worried than she’d been all night. Matt’s voice as he said those words…his whole demeanour…

Something was really wrong.

“What did you need to think about?”

Matt clasped his hands together and squeezed until his flesh went white. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if hesitating to answer.

“Matt, what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath and lifted his head in her direction. “Does the name ‘Eliise’ mean anything to you?”

Calina frowned, thrown by the unexpected question. Then the blood drained from her face as she realised how he would have heard that name. “It was my alias in Italy, when I was going after Ranieri. He recognised me in the restaurant, didn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah. Turns out you were really fucking memorable. I mean, he was a little disappointed you’d changed your hair and weren’t showing as much leg as before, but he took great delight in describing his night with you to Cross.”

Calina exhaled in relief, glad her real identity as a Widow hadn’t been blown. “So he was bragging to look like a big shot in front of his new associate, so what?”

“It wasn’t baseless bragging. He was regaling Cross in lurid detail about all the ways he'd fucked you. And he wasn’t lying. I could practically feel his heartbeat through that bathroom wall, and he believed every single word of what he said.”

“Wait…are you saying you think I slept with him? That I had sex with him in Italy behind your back?”

“He wasn’t lying, Calina,” Matt repeated, through clenched teeth.

“Neither was I! I told you exactly what happened during that mission!”

“Like you told me exactly what happened to the man you killed across the hall?”

Calina reeled back, as if the words were a physical blow. “So I’m always going to be a liar in your eyes, is that it? Despite the fact that I’ve been honest and open with you every single day since then? Despite the fact that you claim to love me? Doesn’t that afford me the benefit of the doubt at the very least!?”

Matt jumped to his feet. “Yes! Of course it does! That’s why I’ve been wrestling with this all night! I couldn’t reconcile what you told me with-”

“With what Ranieri said? You believed a complete stranger over me?”

“No, not blindly. But you’re asking me to ignore everything my senses are telling me-”

“Yes! Because your senses aren’t infallible, Matt. All of your goddam trust issues stem from the fact that you’ve been lied to again and again by the people you're close to, which means you can’t always tell when someone’s being honest!”

“So now you’re throwing my past back at me? I just want the truth, Calina! What happened in Italy?”

Calina didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed her cell from the coffee table and dialled a number.

“What are you doing?” Matt asked, as the sound of the phone ringing filled the air between them.

“Well, you obviously won’t believe anything I tell you, so I’m getting someone impartial to give you the truth.”

At that moment, Anya picked up the phone, sounding wide awake despite the hour. “Calina? I’ve been looking into this Cross and Ranieri thing, and I may have found something. They-”

“Not now, Anya,” Calina interrupted. “I need you to speak to Matt.”

“Okay…about what?"

“Tell him about Italy. About the serum I injected Ranieri with - and what it does.”

“Um, it’s a modified sedative. Designed to render a mark unconscious while also allowing for hypnotic suggestions to be implanted.”

“And what suggestions did you implant while Ranieri was unconscious?” Calina asked.

“That, um, you had sex with him.”

“Did I actually have sex with him?”

“No! Of course not. Calina, what’s this about? What’s-”

“I’ll tell you later.” Calina hung up the phone and looked at Matt. He stood with his hands on his hips, head bowed. “Satisfied?”

At Calina’s question, he lifted his head. Shook it once. “Calina, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t give a shit.” She shoved her phone in her pocket, grabbed her purse and stalked towards the door.

Matt caught her hand before she could yank it open. “Wait, don’t leave. We need to talk about this. I’m so sorry for-”

“For what? For doubting me? Not trusting me? Or for thinking I'm the kind of person who would cheat on you, and lie to your face about it?”

“Callie-”

“No. I can’t deal with this right now. I need to go.”

“Go? Go where? Please don’t disappear on me again.”

“Right now, I’m going to my apartment across the hall to get some sleep. Don’t follow me. Don’t call me.”

Matt squeezed her hand. Brought it to his lips and pressed a desperate kiss to the back of it. “Please, sweetheart-”

“No. I need some space, Matt. Just let me go.”

“I don’t think I can ever let you go, sweetheart,” Matt whispered against her skin. “But I’ll give you some space.” He dropped her hand and stepped to the side.

Calina walked through the door and didn’t look back.

———

Matt hit the punching bag with all his strength, the smack of flesh meeting leather creating a satisfying sound that rang out in the empty gym.

The pain that came a moment later was satisfying in a different way.

Matt had foregone the hand wraps and gloves for a reason. He’d come straight to Fogwell’s after the fight with Calina, wanting to take out all his anger and frustration on the training equipment…and wanting to punish himself in the process.

He couldn’t believe how thoroughly he’d fucked things up tonight.

No, that was wrong. He could believe it. It was one of his core personality traits, after all: the ability to sabotage every good thing in his life.

Like his relationship with Karen. He’d fucked that up because he couldn’t stay away from the toxic pull of Elektra. He’d fucked up his career and his friendship with Foggy because he couldn’t find the right balance between Matt Murdock and Daredevil.

He really thought he’d turned a corner this year. He’d mended the rift with Foggy, found friendship again with Karen, and had rebuilt the law firm with their help…but now he’d gone and fucked everything up with Calina. Because he couldn’t trust her.

No, that was wrong too. He couldn’t trust his trust in her.

Because he knew that she hadn’t lied to him about Italy. He knew she wasn’t the type of person who could be unfaithful. He knew there must be some explanation for why Ranieri believed the things that he did.

As soon as he’d heard the smarmy Italian telling Cross about ‘Eliise’, Matt had shook his head in disbelief. He knew it must be Calina he was referring to - the timing and location of the encounter fit with the Widow’s mission, and he seemed so sure he recognised Calina, despite the change in her appearance - but Matt couldn’t believe the story he was spinning about them sleeping together. He didn’t believe it. He knew that it had to be a lie, despite what his senses were telling him.

But as the night wore on, and he had little to do but sit on a cold, concrete rooftop as Cross and Ranieri’s conversation was lost to the din of the nightclub below, insidious thoughts started to creep into Matt’s mind.

What if…?

What if Calina had lied to him? She’d done it before, after all. She’d kept the secret of her identity for months. She’d killed people, and kept that from him.

What if sleeping with Ranieri was vital to her mission to take down Volkov? He knew how strong and overwhelming the Widows’ drive for freedom had been. They would have stopped at nothing to get out from under Volkov’s thumb. Would Calina have stopped at sleeping with a mark? She’d done that before in the past, as well…

Matt had hated the thoughts as they’d formed in his head. He’d screwed his eyes shut and pulled at the strands of his hair, as if he could physically banish them. He didn’t like that even a tiny part of him could think so ill of the woman he loved.

But he couldn’t seem to shake those thoughts. They took root over the course of the night, and he spent hours walking the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, wrestling with them. Trying to conquer them with the truths that he was sure of: Calina was a good person. She’d vowed to be honest with him. She loved him, and wouldn’t betray him.

But those wretched, malignant doubts just wouldn’t go away.

And look where they’d gotten him - pummelling his fists bloody and raw because he’d hurt Calina. Because he’d ruined things between them.

Why couldn’t he have trusted his initial instinct that Ranieri was lying?

Why couldn’t he have trusted his belief in Calina?

Matt yelled in frustration as he hit the bag so hard it swung away from him, a wordless shout of anger and pain that echoed off the crumbling walls of the gym. He caught the bag as it came back, and rested his forehead against the leather, panting with exertion. Warm blood trickled from the split skin over his knuckles, and he could feel the burn of inflammation in his shoulder where he must have pulled a muscle.

But the pain didn’t help. The self-flagellation wasn’t lessening any of his guilt.

And he was at real risk of doing damage to himself that wouldn’t heal with an icepack and a few bandages. He scoffed at the irony as he cleaned off the blood from his hands and the sweat from his brow. He never used to worry about himself in that way. Not before Calina. Not before he started to see a future for himself, with her.

He just didn’t know if that future existed now.

———

Calina couldn’t sleep.

She wasn’t surprised. Sleep had never come easily to her in this new post-Widow’s life. Not unless she was next to Matt…

Matt.

She sighed and rolled on to her back, staring vacantly at the ceiling over her bed. She wished she could cry or yell or hit something to get rid of this…numbness…that she felt. She’d left his apartment in a hurry, feeling like she was on the verge of breaking down, but when she reached her own bedroom just moments later, a wave of numbness had descended, until she was left like this - feeling empty, detached from her own emotions.

As if they were too big, too devastating to bear, and her mind was protecting her from them.

Or maybe it just meant that she was done. That she knew it was over between her and Matt, and her pragmatic side had decided that there was no point in wallowing in grief and pain over the loss.

No. The thought of it really and truly being over between her and Matt caused a sharp stab of pain through her heart.

A response at last.

Because she loved him.

Which was its own curse. Because it meant that she knew him. She knew his past and the way it had shaped who he was today. She knew why he’d reacted the way he had tonight…and a small part of her even sympathised with his struggle to believe her.

Hence, the curse. She should be allowed to be angry. To feel betrayed by his doubts. To hate him as much as she loved him.

But instead she was...numb.

So numb, the sound of a knock at the door barely elicited a reaction, even though it was probably Matt ignoring her wishes. “I said I needed space, Matt,” she called out as she dragged herself out of bed.

“We’re not Matt, so open up,” was the response.

Frowning, Calina opened the door to find Anya and Katya standing in the hall - along with a very unexpected addition. “What are you doing here so early?”

Anya pushed passed her into the living room. “After that weird phone call, we had to come and see what was happening.”

Katya rolled her eyes. “Tactful, Anya. We’re not just here out of curiosity. We came to see how you were. We figured you and Matt had an argument.”

“Is that why you brought a dog?” Calina asked, pointing to the puppy in Katya’s arms. “For comfort?"

"Comfort?"

"Yeah. I read that petting a dog lowers cortisol levels, and can boost dopamine and serotonin neurotransmitters in the brain.”

Katya looked down at the squirming mass of fur in her arms. “That would have been a good idea, actually. But, no, we’re dog-sitting Nika and didn’t want to leave her in the house while everyone else is too pre-occupied with what’s happening over Wakanda to watch her.”

“Wait, whose dog is she? And what’s happening in Wakanda?” Calina sat on the edge of the sofa and looked up at the Widows, glad there were a couple of mysteries to uncover that would take her mind off Matt.

Katya let the puppy down to explore and joined Calina on the couch. “She belongs to Yelena. She picked her up from the pound last week.”

Calina smiled. “That’s great. She said she always wanted a dog - I just thought she was planning to wait until all the Widows’ stuff was sorted.”

“Nope. She just decided that she’ll still do all the ‘Widows’ stuff’ and leave us to look after the dog while she’s gone.”

“Where is she now?”

“In Helsinki with Sonya. They’re freeing Ana - do you remember her?”

Calina had the vague recollection of an older, blonde girl who was a couple of cohorts ahead of her in the Red Room. “Not really.”

“Well, we found her in a mansion in the Finnish countryside, so Yelena flew out there last night.”

“That’s good that you guys found someone else.”

“Speaking of finding something,” Anya said. “I was looking into Cross and Ranieri like you asked-”

“That can wait until later,” Katya interrupted. “Tell us what happened with Matt.”

Calina groaned and sank back into the couch. The puppy took it as her cue to jump up on her lap. She managed the leap with no problem, and Calina could tell she was going to be big once she reached her true size. She looked like a cross between a husky and a German shepherd, and her fur was thick and soft when Calina sank her fingers into it. She continued to pet the dog as she explained the events of last night.

“So, thank you, Anya,” she said at the end of the tale. “For being so thorough in your description of my fake sexcapade with Ranieri that he’s never forgotten that night.”

Anya winced. “Sorry.”

Calina shook her head. “No, it’s not your fault. This was probably always destined to happen - Matt finds it hard to trust people, and I have a history of lying to him. What’s that phrase? ’Irreconcilable differences’?”

“I don’t believe that,” Katya said. “You’re not irreconcilable. You’ll get past this, just like your other..hurdles.”

Calina laughed at the word 'hurdle', which felt like a massive understatement. “I’m not so sure this time.” Her voice broke, and she could feel the barrier around her emotions start to break down, the numbness start to wear off, so she quickly changed the subject before the tears followed. “But enough about that. Tell me what you found, Anya.”

Anya didn’t have to be asked twice. She launched into a detailed explanation of how she searched Ranieri’s emails and his entire internet footprint via a software program she'd designed which utilised AI…until Katya had to beg her to get to the point. “Please, just give us the bullet point summary!”

“Okay, fine. It turns out Ranieri and Cross were boarded together at the same school in Switzerland for a brief period - before Ranieri was expelled for drug use, and Cross’ family emigrated to New York.”

“So they’ve known each other all this time?” Calina asked.

Anya shrugged. “It’s unclear how friendly they were for most of it, but their communications definitely increased over the past couple of years. It looks like Ranieri was hustling on the side with Cross. He liked being in league with Volkov, but he had no loyalty, and he wasn’t as fanatical about the mission as Volkov was. He was in it for the money and power, and he saw no problem with stealing from Volkov to help him get in with another powerful man.”

“So he was the one that sent Aminev to Cross. He basically gave his old school friend a Black Widow assassin,” Katya added.

“That was the plan,” Anya clarified. “But Aminev got greedy. He was supposed to just hand over the tech to Cross, but he set himself up as the middle-man instead, getting paid to control Calina on behalf of Cross. But he fucked that up and got himself killed instead.”

“It’s a wonder Cross trusted Ranieri after that,” Calina mused. Cross didn’t seem the type to suffer incompetence in his associates.

“It didn’t matter. Ranieri had already done enough to secure his place in Cross’ inner circle.”

“How?” Calina asked.

“By giving him an old Red Room formulation. It had been superseded by the mind control serum, so Ranieri figured Volkov wouldn’t notice when the last remaining vials went missing.”

“What was the formulation?” Katya asked.

Calina had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what it was. “It was the fear pheromone, wasn’t it?”

Anya nodded. “A rudimentary version compared to what’s on the streets now. But yes.”

“So it all started with Ranieri,” Katya said, shaking her head in disbelief. “He gave Cross the idea of the fear pheromone, the basic formula to improve upon, and he even tried to guarantee his supply of the main ingredient - Arsonium Bromide - by giving him a Black Widow. That slimy, inbred piece of Italian trash started this whole thing.”

“Well, technically, the Red Room started it all,” Anya countered. “They came up with the fear pheromone in the first place.”

Calina let out a bitter laugh. “Of course it all started with them. All the pain that Cross caused with his experiments to perfect the pheromone, all the lives he ruined and the people he killed…it all stems back to the Red Room. To us. This is our legacy.”

Katya scowled at her. “What are you talking about? This isn’t on us. This is on Dreykov, and Volkov and all those other assholes in the Red Room. Our legacy will be stopping Cross - we're going to help you and Matt take him down.”

Calina nodded. She knew Katya was right. She and the other Widows were as much victims as those Cross had experimented on. They weren’t culpable. She was just feeling extra resentful and scathing about her past and her association with the Red Room this morning.

For obvious reasons.

And she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to work with Matt again on this, or anything else, but she appreciated her sisters' support. “Thanks, guys. For finding all this out, and for coming to check on me this morning. And for letting me pet the dog - I think it helped.” She smoothed her hand over one floppy ear and scratched behind it. The puppy immediately rolled over and offered her stomach for extra pets. Calina laughed and complied.

“Speaking of the dog, why don’t you come with us while we take her for a walk. Clear your head a bit.”

Calina nodded. “Sounds good.”

Some fresh air and a playful puppy sounded infinitely better than wallowing in her bed alone for the rest of the day.

———

As Matt left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and the working day was starting for his fellow New Yorkers. The traffic on the streets was growing, and the sound of shutters being raised on storefronts drowned out the chorus of birdsong.

Matt checked the time on his watch. He could head to the office...but he wasn't sure he was in the right head space for work this morning. And he didn't feel like going back to his apartment - not when Calina's absence would be palpable. Not when the air would still hold her scent - that would be more of a torment than a comfort right now.

So he walked. For hours. Aimlessly. Down tree-lined streets and across concrete avenues shaded by high rise buildings. He walked, concentrating on the feel of the ground beneath his feet and the steady beat of his heart, trying not to think about the fight with Calina. About how he could gain her forgiveness. About the possibility that he might never do so.

He walked…and eventually found himself outside Clinton church. For the second time in just over 24 hours.

God, had it only been a day?

Everything felt so different now. Not just in terms of the shock invasion from above, but the tumult in his own life. Yesterday he was planning to introduce his mother to the love of his life. Yesterday he felt such a sense of hope and optimism.

But now…

It was all gone.

“Matthew?”

Speaking of his mother…

“Maggie,” he replied.

Something in his voice must have worried her. Or maybe she caught sight of the blood staining the bandages over his hands. Either way, she came rushing over. “What’s wrong. What happened?” She took hold of his arm and guided him down the steps to the rectory attached to the church. He took a seat at the small kitchen table while she fussed over him, removing his bandages and cleaning his damaged skin with warm water.

It was strange. This church, the people in it - Maggie, Father Lantom - were the source of so much of the betrayal that had shaped him. And yet he still returned to it. Again and again.

Was it a form of masochism?

Or was he subconsciously searching for answers? For an explanation.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Maggie paused in the act of washing his wounds. “What?”

“Why did you let me believe I was all alone in the world?”

“Oh, Matthew.” Maggie dropped the cloth she’d been using and took the seat next to him. “I- I was so young when I had you. And I was so confused. I thought I was betraying God-”

“I’m not talking about that,” he bit out. “I know you were young. I know about the post partum depression. I don’t blame you for any of that. I want to know about later. When my Dad died, afterwards, my whole life…you let me believe I was alone. You lied to me. Father Lantom lied to me. I- I just need to know why.”

“Why are you asking this now? I thought you’d found it in your heart to forgive us.”

Matt laughed. “So did I. And maybe I have forgiven you. But the damage was done regardless.”

“What damage? You said everything you’ve been through led you to becoming Daredevil, and that you were content with that.”

“With that part of my life, yes. But the rest of my life? No so much.”

“What are you talking about. Tell me what happened.”

Matt sprang up from the chair and poked a finger in his chest. “I happened! I fucked it all up with Calina, because I couldn’t trust her. Because I couldn’t banish these thoughts that she was lying to me. Betraying me. Because that’s what I’m used to. That’s what I expect from the people who claim to care about me, and its ruining my fucking life!”

Matt turned away and gripped the edges of the sink, head bowed, as he tried to get hold of his rage. He could feel Maggie approach, then tentatively lay a hand on his shoulder. He fought the urge to shrug off her comfort, but a part of him didn’t want to undo all the progress they’d made together.

He didn’t want to do or say something in anger that would ruin this relationship too. But he was just so goddam frustrated! He could feel years of resentment bubbling up to the surface.

Maggie must have sensed it, because she finally gave him the answers he craved. “When your father was alive,” she said, in a faltering voice, “I convinced myself that coming to you, and telling you the truth would just hurt you. Confuse you too much. Then, after he died, I convinced my self that it would do more harm than good. Eventually…I realised the truth.”

“Which was?”

“I’m a coward, Matthew. I was too scared to face you, and own up to the biggest mistake of my life. To save myself from that, I hurt you instead. And I’m so, so sorry for that.” She pressed on his arm, getting him to turn and face her. When he did, she reached up to take his face in her hands. “But you, Matthew Murdock, are not a coward. You are the bravest man I’ve ever known. And the strongest. It takes both to be able to love someone - it isn’t something that weak people do.”

“I do love Calina. So much. But I just don't know how to give her that last little piece of my trust.”

“My dear boy, that’s where the courage comes into play. It’s a leap of faith to give over your heart and your trust to someone else, never knowing for sure if they’ll keep them safe. You just have to be brave and jump. I have a feeling that Calina won’t squander those gifts.”

“But will she trust me with her heart now? After the things I accused her of…”

“Only she can decide that. But you need to go and find out. Fight for her. Don’t just hole yourself up hitting bags of sand - figure out a way to win her back instead.”

Matt nodded. And then, because he was feeling so drained and emotional, and because she was standing so close, he gave in to the impulse to drop his head down to her shoulder. Maggie froze for a fraction of a second before wrapping her arms around him. He hooked one arm around her waist…and they were hugging.

His first ever hug from his mother.

He could feel in the slight tremble in her frame how much it meant to her. It meant just as much to him.

And he knew he needed to let it go. All of the resentment. All of the anger at her betrayal. Father Lantom’s lies. Even Elektra and Stick's offences against him. Everything.

He needed to truly forgive and move on - for his sake, for Maggie’s, and for Calina most of all.

Because he wanted to be a better man for her.

After a few long moments, he stepped away from the embrace. “Thanks Maggie. I, um, should get going, I guess.”

“To Calina?” she asked, in a slightly bossy tone.

“Yes,” he laughed. “To Calina.”

“Good.”

Matt stepped back out into the bright spring morning, feeling a renewed sense of hope. He wouldn’t let things end with Calina this way. He wouldn’t let things end at all. He loved her. And he knew she loved him. He just had to convince her to give him another chance.

And he was a lawyer - convincing people was one of the things he did best.

He set off back in the direction of this apartment, already mentally composing his speech to Calina. His grovelling, heartfelt and earnest declaration that would hopefully persuade her to take him back. In fact, he was concentrating so hard on what he would say to her, that he missed the first warning signs that something was wrong in the city.

Very, very wrong.

But then he heard the first scream. His head jerked up at the sound trying to pinpoint the location. That’s when another scream rang out, from a different direction. Then the sounds of multiple cars crashing all over the city. A plane going down in the distance...

And beneath all that noise, and chaos…a terrible, eerie silence was growing in the world. As if thousands of heartbeats and breaths and voices were just…disappearing. Being snuffed out at once.

That horrible absence grew and grew, and with it, Matt’s fear. He started running, that same urge from yesterday overtaking him - the desperate need to get to Calina. He barrelled past other pedestrians on the street, those who were rooted in place, looking around in terror. He felt himself run through flakes of…something. Too warm to be snow. Too insubstantial to be leaves or bits of paper floating in the air. He didn’t stop to figure it out, he just kept running.

Until suddenly, he started to feel...strange.

As if the ground was no longer beneath his feet. As if the air was no longer brushing against his skin. As if all his senses were dulled. He staggered to a halt, and grasped his chest, as if to reassure himself he was still…him. But his hand vanished before it could make contact.

There was no pain. No sensation to it at all. He w a s

j u s t

c o

t…

————–

END OF PART 3

————–

Well, for those of you who aren't familiar with Avenger's Infinity War...the BLIP just happened! And I don't actually know for sure if Matt was blipped in canon or not, but in my story he was.

Poor guy!

Find out how he deals with it here...

Part 4, chapter 1

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #daredevil fic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x original female character #matt murdock #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc #marvel mcu #daredevil fandom

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crystalninjaphoenix · 1 month ago

Text

Scared of Something New

Paranormal Preteens AU: Episode Twenty-Nine

A JSE Fanfic

This chapter has given me so much trouble over the past two weeks dhjasklh But! It is now done, and it is longer than the usual! So I won't keep you waiting much longer lol. Onto the summary! Chase realizes he's been brushing over JJ's problems, and gets some advice on how to deal with this. He decides to ask JJ himself how he can make up for this, and JJ proposes a surprisingly risky idea on how to get rid of this doll problem once and for all. And yeah. We have a real Chase and JJ focused episode, though others also appear. Enjoy reading :)

Previous Episode | More of this AU | From the Start | Read on AO3 at CrystalNinjaPhoenix

++++++++++++++++++++

Not long after returning from Ireland, the winter term for school started up again. Stacy actually left town for a bit, going on a birthday trip with her family. When she got back, the guys all gave her various birthday presents during lunch period. Chase got her a case for her glasses, on Mom’s advice, while Schneep got her a fancy glitter pen and JJ and Marvin gave her a pair of books. Jackie got her a bookbag with some characters on them. Chase had never heard of ‘Bratz’ before but Stacy seemed to love it.

Between Stacy’s vacation and the new round of schoolwork, the group didn’t have much time to get together and discuss what they’d learned about Anti and Jack. Though... Chase wasn’t sure there was much to talk about. Anti was Jack’s imaginary friend, and Jack’s family seemed weirdly involved with all the weird stuff happening around town. What else could they talk about? Besides... he wasn’t sure he wanted a big group talk. Not while JJ was still avoiding him.

Well... “avoiding” him wasn’t exactly right. JJ was still sitting with the rest of the group during lunch, and if Marvin came over to play video games, JJ would come with him. But... he was even quieter than usual. He only really spoke when someone else talked to him, or when Marvin tried to pull him into the conversation. And Chase could have sworn that JJ never looked directly at him. Chase wanted to give him some space, but also... he couldn’t live with this silence between them.

And so, about two weeks into the start of the new school term, Chase decided to do something about it. But he wasn’t sure what. This whole thing was very confusing to him... and made him feel bad. So, he went to get some advice.

Chase slowly opened the door to Mom’s room. “Um... Mom? Are you busy?”

“Hmm?” Mom was sitting at the desk in the corner of her room. She looked over at Chase as he opened the door, her expression immediately drawing close with worry. “Is something wrong, sweets?”

“I, uh... I-I think I messed up... with something.”

“Is something broken?”

“No no, nothing’s broken! I just, uh... i-it’s friend stuff. I...” He blinked furiously, eyes stinging with tears. “I think... JJ doesn’t like me a-anymore.”

“Oh, Chase.” Mom sighed. “Give me one minute, okay? You can hang out in here for a minute, right?”

Chase nodded. He walked over to Mom’s bed and climbed on top of it, sitting with his legs crossed. He picked at the threads of the comforter as he waited for Mom to finish. He had butterflies in his stomach. Sharp, jumpy butterflies, that just got more and more freaked out as he sat there, bringing tears to his eyes.

Then, Mom was finished. She closed out of whatever program she was using and walked over, sitting next to Chase on the bed. “Now, Chase. I’m sure JJ still likes you. But why would you think he wouldn’t?”

“I-I...” Chase took a shaky breath. He couldn’t explain all the doll stuff to Mom, but he could probably explain the whole situation without that. “JJ’s been r-really pressured a-and stuff lately, and I kept... I kept doing stuff that he didn’t want me to... He told me he didn’t want me to do that, and I tried, I really tried to not do the stuff, but he still got angry with me, a-and said that I didn’t get what he was going through, and I wasn’t trying hard enough... B-but I think I was trying, I think I really was trying!”

Mom blinked. “JJ got angry at you? That doesn’t seem like him.”

“I-I thought that too. JJ doesn’t get angry ever!”

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t say that,” Mom corrected. “Everyone gets angry. Maybe you don’t see it, but everyone gets angry. JJ’s a quiet kid, so you probably don’t know when he gets upset, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get upset at all.”

“Well... I-I know that,” Chase mumbled. “I just... if he’s not gonna tell me when he’s mad, I’m just gonna keep doing the same thing, right?”

“If JJ can’t tell you, then that’s something he should work on,” Mom said slowly. “But you just said that he did tell you. You knew about the problems he had and the things you weren’t supposed to do, right?”

“Yeah... A-and I really tried not to do any of it! But it’s just...” Chase gestured vaguely. “I-I don’t know. It wasn’t enough, I guess.”

“Hm.” Mom paused, thinking. “Alright. Let’s take this one step at a time. Could you have tried more to avoid the upsetting things?”

Chase thought about it. He didn’t give JJ orders on purpose. But he did give him a lot of accidental ones. And... no one else in the group did, right? Maybe... one or two, but... he definitely did it the most. “I... guess... Everyone else was doing it.”

“We’re not talking about everyone else, we’re talking about you. Do you really think you could have done better, or do you think you were trying your best?”

“I mean... I was doing my best, I just...” Chase trailed off. Was he really trying to avoid giving JJ orders? Maybe not. After all, he tried harder for other stuff. Like, Schneep didn’t want him to call him ‘Schneep’ around adults, so Chase always made sure to call him ‘Henrik’ when parents or teachers were around. He always thought about his words very carefully... But comparing that to how he thought about his words around JJ, he wasn’t being nearly as cautious. “Maybe... I could’ve done better.” He ducked his head, ashamed to say it out loud.

Mom nodded. “It’s good that you can realize that. Now that you know that, why do you think you didn’t try your best?”

“Uh... I dunno.” Chase shook his head.

“Can you try to think about it?”

“I am, I just... I don’t know.” Why wouldn’t he try his best to help JJ out? Did he not... like him as much? No, that can’t be it. JJ’s great! Even if Chase didn’t have a lot in common with him, he was still smart and funny and very brave.

Mom tilted her head. “Maybe... it didn’t seem like it was a big deal? Maybe that’s what you were thinking?”

“Maybe... I mean, uh... they weren’t really... I-I didn’t say mean things to him or anything. I just...“ Chase trailed off.

“They were... small things,” Mom said. “Things that wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Yeah!” Chase nodded.

“Well... they must have hurt him after all, right?” Mom asked quietly.

Chase deflated. “Yeah... I-I didn’t mean to, though. I just... Maybe I didn’t really... get it... Th-that’s what JJ said. That I didn’t really get it.” He shook his head. “It just—they didn’t do much! They were just... little things.”

“Little things can still hurt, Chase,” Mom explained. “Sometimes more than the big things. You know what they say. There’s a straw that breaks the camel’s back.”

Chase paused. “I’ve heard that, but I don’t... really get what that means.”

“Oh. Well, imagine you have a camel who’s carrying a bunch of stuff on its back, for a big trip across the desert. It’s carrying so much stuff that the weight is almost too much. When the camel is at its limit, even the tiniest bit of straw could be too much weight, and cause the camel to collapse and break its back. You said JJ was feeling pressured, so like that camel, he’s already carrying a bunch of weight. The little things you were doing felt like a lot.”

“Oh,” Chase breathed. That... would make sense with JJ, wouldn’t it? He mentioned his parents were on him all the time about being perfect, and then he also had the magic doll making him do stuff. Chase’s little slip-ups were just adding more to all that. “I...” Chase leaned against Mom, his eyes stinging again. “I don’t think I’m good at picking up on feelings.”

Mom patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, you’re still young. And you’re learning. Did you talk to JJ about all this?”

“Yeah. While we were in Ireland I talked to him. That’s when he said some of this stuff.”

“It’s good that you were able to tell something was happening and start the talk. Maybe it didn’t go well, but you can always keep going, try to fix that.”

“How?”

Mom shrugged. “You have to listen to JJ. Ask him what he wants, and take it seriously.”

“I wasn’t not taking it seriously!” Chase said defensively.

Mom laughed. “I never said you weren’t.”

Chase sighed... and then thought about it. He definitely knew the doll thing was a serious matter. But... maybe it wasn’t clicking into place for him on the serious scale. Chase didn’t know what JJ was going through with the doll and his parents and everything. He didn’t “get” it, just as JJ accused him of during the trip to Ireland. But just because he didn’t know what it felt like to be JJ, didn’t mean that he couldn’t listen to what JJ wanted. It didn’t mean that he couldn’t try. “Thanks, Mom. I-I think I have an idea for what to do now.”

“Glad I could help, sweets.” Mom smiled.

“You have work stuff to do, right?” Chase hopped the bed. “I’m gonna go, then.”

“Hah. Well I did reach a stopping point, but thanks, Chase. You’re very thoughtful.”

“...yeah, I guess.” Chase didn’t feel very thoughtful with all this JJ stuff. But he could be. If he tried. “See you.”

“See you, Chase.”

Chase left Mom’s room at the end of the hall—and stopped. Schneep was standing there. Right outside the bathroom door, clearly within range to hear Chase and Mom talking. “Uh...”

“I-I did not mean to listen,” Schneep hurriedly said. “I just—I-I just—I, ah—”

“It’s fine, bro, don’t worry about it,” Chase said. “What did you hear?”

“Something about talking to JJ... and Aunt Jess told you to listen to him.” Schneep shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Were you not... listening to him before?”

“I was, I just... I don’t think I was doing a very good job,” Chase said quietly. “But I’m gonna try again.”

“I-is there anything I can do to help?” Schneep asked.

“Uh... maybe?” Chase said. “I don’t know. Do you know...” He paused, thinking. “JJ said I didn’t get what he was going through. Do... do you? Could you explain it to me?”

Schneep looked at Chase seriously for a second. Then he walked over to his room, gesturing for Chase to follow him. He did, and once the two of them were inside, Schneep shut the door. “Aunt Jess told you that my parents were... not very nice to me, ja?”

Chase nodded slowly. “Do you think JJ and Marvin’s parents are the same?”

“Not... exactly the same. I-I think they are a bit nicer.” Schneep fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater. “But... I think their parents really want JJ to be... what they want. They want him to be smart. A-and I know what that is like.”

Chase tilted his head. “Don’t all parents want their kids to be smart?”

“...um... s-sort of?” Schneep said. “But i-it is different. Aunt Jess would never tell you that you are disappointing if you did not get a perfect score on a test, would she?”

“What?! No!”

“Exactly. But I-I think JJ’s parents would.”

Chase shook his head slowly. He couldn’t even picture that. “That’s... that really is mean.”

Schneep gave a dark little laugh. “Yes... it is, isn’t it?” He continued to fidget with his sleeves. “The Jacksons want JJ to be exactly what they want. He does not want to disappoint them. So... there is pressure, ja?”

“Yeah. I’d be so scared of letting Mom down if she called me a disappointment when I did.”

Schneep nodded. “Things could be worse, too... but I do not think the Jacksons get too much worse than that. They feel... They would feel different when they look at you.”

Chase stared at him. “Hey, uh... Schneep, if you... ever want to talk about this stuff, I could uh... I’ll listen. I’m not sure if I’ll be good at it, but I’ll try.”

“You could be good at it, Chase.” Schneep looked up at him, smiling. “I-I know you care a lot. You just... are not sure how to show it, sometimes.”

“I wonder if I cared about JJ and the doll thing...” Chase muttered.

“You do. You just... did not understand, I think. But now you are ready to try and understand, ja?”

Chase nodded. “I-I am. I don’t know if I will, but I’ll listen. Like I did with you, and with Marvin. I-I don’t know why I could listen to you guys and not to JJ.”

“Well, I live with you, and Marvin is loud. JJ is quiet and does not live with you.”

“...it makes sense when you say it like that.” Chase laughed. “Uh, thanks, Schneep. And, uh... what I just said. If you want to talk about stuff, I’ll listen.”

“Thank you, Chase.” Schneep’s smile widened. “Now... go on. I am sure that you have things to do.”

“Yeah. I wanna plan stuff.” Chase nodded. “See you later.” And with that, he turned and left Schneep’s room, thinking about how to approach this JJ situation. He had an idea for what to do, he just had to figure out how to approach it.

++++++++++++++++++++

Hey can you meet me at Zellys after school tomorrow? You can bring Marvin if you want.

Why?

I want to talk about stuff. Say sorry. Is that okay or do you still want me to not talk to you?

No it’s fine. I’ll be there. Marvin will too.

Chase reread the text message exchange over and over, then looked out at the interior of Zelly’s. It was pretty empty this time of year, though there were a smattering of people sitting around drinking hot chocolate. JJ and Marvin hadn’t arrived yet. But they had to be here soon. Chase had been waiting for ten minutes. Mom dropped him off after school, Chase had promised to call her when he needed a ride back, and then said goodbye to her and Schneep and headed in, sitting at a booth near the front entrance. It was a bit cold, but he wouldn’t miss JJ and Marvin coming in... or so he thought. As time went on, he started to wonder if he’d missed them after all. Or maybe they weren’t coming at all.

Nope, the door opened and the twins walked in. JJ had his bag. It was mostly empty, but Chase could see the shape of a notebook and something plush. The doll, of course.

Chase considered waving them over, but they spotted him before then, walking over and sitting down on the booth bench across from him. “Soooo. Hey.” Marvin gave an awkward little wave. “I don’t know what this whole thing’s about, but JJ wanted me here.”

“Y-yeah. Of course, uh. Yeah.” Chase nodded.

They sat there in silence for a bit. Should we order something to drink? JJ asked.

“Uh, you’ll have to wave down one of the waiters, then, cause they checked on me earlier and I said I was fine.” Chase gave a little laugh. “But... uh, this isn’t about the drinks. We could but... I don’t know, it might be distracting or something.”

Marvin looked back and forth between JJ and Chase. “Is this about whatever happened in the hotel?”

“Basically, yeah,” Chase muttered. “Did JJ tell you what happened?”

“Nope. Not a thing. Even though I keep asking very politely.” Marvin shot JJ a playful glare. But JJ didn’t return the playfulness. Marvin’s expression softened. “Do you want me to go over to another table while you guys talk?”

Maybe... JJ said. Just for a bit.

Marvin nodded. “I’ll just go to the bathroom or something. Be back soon.” He stood up and left.

JJ slumped in his seat. I shouldn’t have asked him to come, but... I didn’t want to be alone right now. With the doll situation.

“Yeah...” Chase picked up a napkin and fidgeted with it awkwardly. “JJ I’m... I-I’m really sorry for all the commands I’ve been giving you accidentally. I didn’t... I-I never wanted to hurt you. You’re my friend. And I... I’m sorry that I didn’t... think about stuff that I should’ve.”

Jameson just stared at him.

“Y-you’re probably angry at me, a-and that’s—that’s okay,” Chase said. “You can be angry. It’s, uh... I-I would be angry too. But I-I want to make up for being... not thoughtful. So... I-I want to ask you what I can do to help. Wh-what do you want? What do you need? I’ll help you with it, whatever it is.” He almost said ‘tell me,’ but he was watching his words carefully. Don’t say anything that could be an order.

Silence. Jameson continued to stare. Then he sighed. Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?

Chase nodded. “Like I said, I wasn’t... I wasn’t doing a good job helping you with the doll thing, with all the... the accidental orders and stuff. So I-I want to make up for it. Cause I’m really sorry for all the... a-all the trouble I’ve been causing.”

More staring. Then, JJ’s brows lowered and he nodded decisively. Alright. I need you to help me get rid of the doll, then.

“Oh, uh, yeah, totally,” Chase said. “But... I’m confused. We don’t really have a way to get rid of it, do we?”

I’ve had an idea for a while, JJ said. I haven’t brought it up, though, because... I know that people will say it’s dangerous. He took a deep breath. When we tried to burn the doll a while ago, it fixed itself, right? But Marvin said that when it did that, the greenlight spiked. So I wonder... Maybe it will run OUT of greenlight. If we messed up the doll a lot, it would have to use a lot of greenlight to repair itself, until it uses all its greenlight up. And maybe after that, we can fully destroy it. Because there won’t be enough greenlight to protect it.

Chase blinked. “You want… to... JJ, that would hurt you! A lot!”

I know, JJ said. But I can’t live like this forever, Chase. Every time my parents tell me to do something, I HAVE to do it. I had to do it anyways, before, but... I could have said no. Now I can’t. And that... that really hurts. More than any of the pain the doll could inflict. Because at least once the doll is gone, it will be over. If I keep having it, I’ll keep hurting forever.

“I don’t...” Chase breathed. “I-I don’t want you to get hurt...”

“What are you two fucking talking about?!” Marvin was back at the table.

Chase blinked. “Uh—”

“JJ, what the fuck are you talking about that would get you hurt?!” Marvin asked, sitting back down next to him and leaning close.

JJ sighed and repeated what he’d told Chase.

“You want to fucking what?!” Marvin gasped. “Jameson! That—wh-what if that—what if you get really hurt? What if you—you h-have to—go to the h-hospital? Or... worse?”

I won’t, JJ said. I’ve been thinking about what it felt like. It was only pain, no actual damage. I checked.

“Pain is still bad! It means something’s going wrong! JJ, you can’t do this.”

I HAVE to do this, Marvin, Jameson insisted. I can’t keep living with this fucking doll.

“But—but—” Marvin was trembling, fists clenched together. “Chase, you agree with me, right?”

Chase was quiet.

“Chase?!” Marvin shouted.

“I-I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Chase said slowly. “But... we don’t have a good idea for getting rid of the doll. You can’t drain the greenlight from it, can you?”

“I-I mean... I can kinda get it to move around a little...”

“But you can’t pull it out of the doll, can you?” Chase prompted. Marvin opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything, and only shook his head. “Exactly. JJ’s idea might work. It’s just a tiny doll. It can’t have, like, an infinite amount of greenlight. Nothing does! Well, except maybe the Fissures. But that’s cause that’s where the greenlight comes from, creatures up here don’t have infinite greenlight. They only channel it or hold it until they run out.”

“Chase, I can’t just stand by while my brother hurts himself,” Marvin said quietly.

Then don’t, Marvin, JJ said. Help us with it. Make sure that it’s as safe as possible.

“Chase isn’t helping you with this crazy fucking idea!” Marvin insisted.

“I...” Chase’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “I promised I’d help JJ out with whatever he wanted. And he wants to try this to get rid of the doll.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Marvin shouted.

“Marvin, maybe—maybe we could do this in a safe way,” Chase said. “Maybe we could do it in, like, spurts. With breaks. O-or we could do it while JJ is asleep so he might sleep through it. Though... I guess if it really hurts it’ll wake him up... But still! I-I haven’t really been listening to JJ lately... kind of the same way I wasn’t... really understanding you and your ‘weird’ thing. S-so... if JJ wants me to help him with this to make up for that, then I’ll do it.”

Marvin stared at Chase silently. Then he looked at Jameson. “You guys can’t just... talk this out? Like Chase and I did?”

Chase is the one who wanted to do a thing to make up for it, JJ said. But even if he wasn’t... I think actions will speak louder than words for me. Because Chase kept promising and saying stuff, but not doing stuff.

Chase winced as Jameson said that, but it was true.

I don’t know why you were okay with a sorry and I’m not, Jameson said. But... I want this. I want to get away from this doll, and if Chase can help... then I want his help.

Marvin pursed his lips. “I don’t like it... but... if we try to make sure it’s safe... M-maybe I could... help.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe if there’s less greenlight in the doll, I’ll be able to pull out the last of it.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Chase tore the corner off the napkin he was playing with.

“Oh my god... we can’t tell any of the others what we’re going to do,” Marvin said. “You know the other three will want to stop us.”

“Part of me says that they have a point,” Chase muttered.

Guys, please. Jameson looked back and forth between the two of them. I have to get rid of this. There’s not another way. If there was, we would’ve thought of it by now.

Marvin groaned, “Ohhh this is a baaaad idea. But I guess... I guess we can’t think of anything better.”

You two are in? Jameson asked seriously.

Chase and Marvin nodded silently.

Good. Alright, let’s come up with a plan...

++++++++++++++++++++

“So you two are going to spend time together, then? Like you did with Marvin?”

“Yeah, I told you this before, you don’t have to keep asking me.” Chase looked out the window. He could see the Jackson house coming up.

“I just like to be sure,” Schneep said. “So why are you going over to his house instead of to that cinema you went to with Marvin?”

“Cause he didn’t want to go there, I dunno.” And because it would be really bad if they were caught taking a lighter and some knives into a movie theater. Even one that was usually empty.

“Hm.” Schneep pursed his lips. “I just... I would expect that he would want to get away from his parents...”

“They’re gonna go on a date tonight,” Chase said. “We’re gonna be home alone. Apparently their parents leave them home alone a lot.”

“Hrmm.” Mom hummed, listening in on the conversation as she drove. Even Chase could tell she disapproved of that practice. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”

“If things get bad, I’ll call you or Jackie,” Chase said. “I promise.”

“Alright...”

“Mom, you let me skateboard in the park by myself this summer! This isn’t much different!”

“You’re right, Chase, you’re right.” Mom nodded. “Anyway. Here we are.” She pulled to the side of the curb in front of the Jackson house. “Henrik and I will be back to pick you up in about an hour.”

“Good luck, Chase,” Schneep said.

“Thanks, guys.” Chase smiled. “Love you.” He got out of the car and headed up to the Jacksons’ front door.

Immediately, Marvin opened the doorway. He must have been watching from the kitchen window. “Hey, Chase. Come in.” He stepped to the side, and Chase walked into the front hallway. He hadn’t been here since the Halloween birthday party. His eyes were immediately drawn to the stairs, but he quickly looked away. Marvin closed the door behind Chase. “Mam and Dad are already gone,” he said.

“And your grandma left, too?” Chase asked.

“Yep. Granmam’s gone back home to Ireland. But it was nice to have her here. It’s always nice.” Marvin smiled slightly. “Uh... JJ’s in the living room. So...”

“Right, yeah, let’s go.”

The two of them walked down the hallway to the living room. JJ was sitting on the sofa, a textbook in his lap, scanning it intently. The twins’ cat, the small gray Sinney, sat curled up next to him on the cushions, leaning on his leg. Gathered on the coffee table were a couple different things. A lighter, a fireplace poker with two tongs on the end (who knows where they got those?), and a couple kitchen knives, one with a serrated edge. And, of course, the doll. “Before Mam and Dad left they told JJ to study,” Marvin said. “And they said he could stop at five, so... we need a few minutes.”

“O-oh.” Chase looked at JJ again, the way his gaze was completely fixed on the book. “Uh... JJ?”

JJ raised a single hand and waved, eyes still locked on the page.

“That’s... that’s a bit freaky,” Chase said quietly. “Jeez... I-I’m sorry again, JJ.”

JJ nodded.

Marvin sat down on the armchair and picked up the TV remote. “Okay... w-we want this to be kinda calming, so we put a movie on. And we also have this.” He reached back and pulled a fuzzy, cream-colored blanket from the back of the armchair. “And this.” He leaned forward, grabbing a throw pillow from behind him. “Just, you know... comfy stuff. To offset the... the...” Marvin trailed off, his face drawn in worry. “Are we... We’re really doing this, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Chase sighed. “It feels weird to be doing this without the others. Kinda like... we’re sneaking around.”

“Yeah. But you know that Jackie wouldn’t let us do this.”

Chase nodded. Jackie was probably right... after all, they’d already established this was a bad idea. But...

The next couple minutes pass in awkward silence, until JJ finally slams the book shut, letting out a sigh of relief. Sinney jumps in surprise, falling onto her other side. Sorry, he signed to her.

“You, uh... were really stuck, huh?” Chase said.

Jameson nodded slowly. I hate it. I can’t wait until this is done with.

“Come on, Sinney.” Marvin hurried over and scooped her up. “You’re staying in our room, out of the way.”

“She’s bigger than she was at Halloween,” Chase commented. “Cats really grow up fast, huh?”

“Yep.” Marvin nodded. “I’ll be right back.” And he hurried out of the room.

JJ grabbed the blanket, pillow, and TV remote Marvin pointed out earlier. He curled up in the corner of the L-shaped sofa, pulling the blanket over his legs and leaning back against the pillow. He turned on the TV with the remote, and a DVD menu appeared. Chase looked at the screen. “The Nightmare Before Christmas? Uh... not what I expected, honestly.”

All our normal movies are still put away for the holiday season, with the Christmas movies still out, JJ explained. Nightmare is our favorite out of all those.

“It’s... comforting?”

Yeah. I know it’s weird but... yeah. JJ started the movie.

“It’s not weird,” Chase assured him. “It’s not what I’d choose, but I can get it. It’s like... it’s fun.”

JJ brightened slightly and nodded.

Marvin soon returned. “Aw, I missed ‘This is Halloween’?”

“Do you want us to rewind?” Chase asked.

“N-no, let’s...” Marvin took a deep breath. “Let’s just get started. Before I fucking... chicken out.” He picked up the fireplace poker and the doll, hesitating. Then he scrunched his eyes shut and stabbed the tongs into the doll’s chest.

Chase winced. JJ jerked in place slightly, but soon relaxed again.

“Chase?” Marvin held onto the handle of the poker. The doll is solidly stabbed on the end, and he used the poker to hold it at arm’s length. “Uh... start doing shit?”

“Right.” Chase picked up the lighter. This would only be his... second time using one? The last time he used one was to light the candle on Mom’s birthday cake, because he felt like she shouldn’t have to do that for herself. That was months ago. He clicked it on and carefully aimed the flame at the doll’s foot... keeping it there until the flames started to spread.

JJ’s foot jerked in turn. He frowned, folding it under his other leg. As the fire spread across the doll, Jameson shifted uncomfortably, and pushed the blanket off. His face was slowly turning red from the heat.

“Okay okay that’s enough!” Marvin quickly said.

Jameson shook his head, protesting. Not yet!

“JJ you look like you’re burning up!”

I’m fine!

“You’re not!” Marvin looked back at the doll, engulfed in flames. “Chase, go get some water from the kitchen!”

“Uh—sure!” Chase ran out of the room and towards the kitchen. He grabbed an empty plastic pitcher off the counter and filled it up with water from the sink. Then he dashed back down the hall, water splashing around, and threw the water at the burning doll.

Immediately, the flames went out. JJ slumped, gasping and sweating. He raised shaky hands and asked, Did it work?

“If you mean ‘is the greenlight spiking like before,’ then yeah.” Marvin put the doll and poker down. The three guys all stared as the burned fabric as it slowly unburned.

Is there less greenlight? JJ asked.

“Uh... yeah, I guess.”

Then do it again!

“JJ, I don’t...” Marvin trailed off.

Please. Jameson looked back and forth between Marvin and Chase. I know this will work. Just keep going.

“...I guess we could try again,” Chase muttered. He bent down and poked the doll. “Oh my god, it’s dry now.”

“I guess we can burn it again, then...” Marvin said slowly. He picked up the poker, holding the doll out in the same manner. “Uh... Chase?”

Chase reluctantly picked up the lighter again. He clicked it on and slowly put it up to the doll’s arm, watching as it lit up. Jameson winced, shaking out his hand. He curled up as the fire engulfed the doll, a small whimper coming from his throat—

“Okay do it again water again!” Marvin shouted.

Chase ran out of the room with the pitcher, filled it up again, and returned, splashing the doll once more. And again, Jameson relaxed, gasping.

Marvin dropped the doll. “We can’t keep doing this,” he said.

But it’s working! JJ said desperately. You know it is!

“You got more hurt faster, JJ! I don’t want to fucking hurt you!” Marvin’s voice cracked.

We just need to wait a bit more between doing it. You know Mam and Dad will be out all evening and Chase doesn’t have to leave until eight. We just give it a bigger gap so I can recover more!

“Are you fucking serious?! JJ, I don’t want to hurt you at all!”

Chase winced. “JJ, I... I really want to help you, but... it feels bad. To be doing this. Th-there has to be another way.”

I haven’t thought of one, Jameson said. But I’m open to suggestions.

“...Uhhh...” Chase’s thoughts whirled as he scrambled for a solution. “Have you... have you thought about opening up the doll? Seeing if there’s something inside?”

The Jackson twins both stared at him. Completely silent, and obviously stunned.

“You haven’t?” Chase had expected JJ to say something like ‘yes I tried that and it didn’t work.’ After all, JJ was smarter than him.

“Well it seems obvious when you say it like that,” Marvin muttered.

People put stuff inside plushies? JJ asked.

“Yeah. Like at Build-A-Bear. Or, uh, I-I haven’t seen any of those in town, so maybe you don’t know. But at Build-A-Bear, they put little hearts and voice boxes inside the bears when they stuff them. Maybe whoever made this doll did that, too.”

“...huh.” Marvin blinked. “I guess it’s worth a shot. Right, JJ?”

JJ nodded. He picked up the remote and paused the movie, sensing that this needed serious silence. How do we do that?

“I mean... I guess we have to cut it open...” Chase muttered. “It’ll try to fix itself, but if one of us holds it open while the other reaches inside, I think that’ll work.”

Marvin immediately picked up the doll. “Alright, Chase. I can hold it.” He glanced at JJ. “This... this will hurt you, too, you know... b-but hopefully less... and hopefully it’ll be over after this...”

Jameson nodded. I can handle it for a little bit.

“Okay...” Marvin whispered. “Ready, Chase?”

“Uh... yeah, I guess.” He picked up one of the kitchen knives the two had brought out and left on the coffee table. “Lay it on the table face-down. Oh, a-and take off the shirt.”

Marvin knelt next to the coffee table. “The clothes are sewn on, we tested that, but I’ll pull it up.” He did so, leaving the back of the doll exposed.

Chase knelt down across from him. He gripped the knife tightly and took a deep breath. “Alright.” This felt... bad, but not as bad as what they were doing before. He’d never stabbed anything before. Does he just... push the tip of the knife into the fabric? He carefully tried that.

The fabric gave some resistance, but he was able to cut into it. Chase gritted his teeth and pulled the knife downward. Both he and Marvin glanced over at JJ as they did that. Jameson was stiff, pressing his back against the pillow and sofa, but gave them an encouraging thumbs up as they looked at him.

Once there was a long cut through the fabric, Marvin reached forward and pulled it so the cut was wider—keeping it from closing up as well. Chase could see a bunch of stuffing inside it. No time to wait! He plunged his hand inside, feeling around—and immediately found something, cringing at the strange texture. He pulled it out, going in two other times to make sure he got it all. On the third time, he couldn’t find anything more... and the cut in the fabric had stopped trying to seal itself.

JJ sat up, his eyes wide. It doesn’t hurt anymore!

“That must’ve been it!” Marvin gasped. He looked at the pile of stuff Chase had pulled out, and his nose wrinkled. “Oh, what the fuck is that?”

Inside the doll was a pile of red-brown crusty... stuff. And a handful of broken crystal shards. “I have no idea,” Chase said, staring at it on the coffee table.

JJ leaned forward. I think that’s dried blood. It caused some of the stuffing to clump together.

“Ohhhh.” Marvin nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess. We know blood makes greenlight stron—”

“You ruined it!”

Chase’s face suddenly slammed against the coffee table as someone tackled him from behind. He yelled in pain, Marvin cried out in alarm, and shot a beam of greenlight at the thing that had pinned Chase, knocking away a sudden shadow. The shadow skidded across the ground until it hit the armchair, where it solidified: Anti.

“Ruined what, asshole?!” Marvin shouted, standing up.

“Everything!” Anti shouted back. “You haven’t actually gone to fight the Circle, you ruined the present, you ruined everything! Can’t you just play the game right?!”

“Maybe we could if you explained whatever bullshit rules you’re playing at!” Green spheres of light appeared around Marvin’s hands. “Get out of here!”

Chase scrambled to his feet. “You—We know about you!” He pointed at Anti.

“Huh?” Anti tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean? Of course you know about me.”

“No, no we know about Jack!” Chase said. “You—you were his friend or something, weren’t you?”

Anti stiffened. In that moment, he looked more solid than he ever had before, the blood from the wound on his neck flowing down his throat. “You... found Jack?” he whispered. “You talked to him?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded. “And he remembers you. You’re his imaginary friend. Did you like, become real through the greenlight or something?”

Anti’s eyes darkened. “You don’t know anything,” he said bitterly. “Jack doesn’t remember me. He forgot about me.” He unfurled to his full height, taller than the kids, feet solidly on the ground for once. “Just like JJ will forget about you.” He pointed at Marvin. “When you’re allll grown up, he’s going to forget about you and leave you behind.”

Marvin blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “You said that we don’t know anything? Clearly, you don’t fucking know anything, either! JJ would never leave me! We’ve been together through everything!”

“You don’t know that!” Anti screamed. “He’s going to leave you! Cause everyone loves him! He’s gonna choose that instead of you! Didn’t you see?! Hasn’t he been doing that these past couple months?!”

“Only because of that fucking doll!”

“Wait!” Chase held up his hands. “How do you know about the doll?”

“Cause I gave it to him, you—you dummy!” Anti snapped. “It took me so long to make it and figure out how to—I put my blood in that doll! Literally!”

Marvin gaped. “But—but he got that from the Circle, didn’t he? The school staff gave it to him.”

“Because I gave it to them first. I had to figure out how to make it so you wouldn’t throw it away right away—it probably wouldn’t have worked if you did that. So it had to be important, so it had to be like a prize or something, and he won so many school prizes, anyway.”

Chase’s knees felt weak. It felt like he was about to fall over. “But—but why? Wh-why would you do that?”

“To show you that he’s like that, anyway,” Anti said. “If the doll is real or not, it doesn’t matter, there’s always a doll there, because JJ is like Jack, he is a doll who listens to people, and cause of that, he’s going to leave you behi—!”

A flash of movement. Jameson rushed the coffee table, scooped up a knife, and launched himself at Anti. The blade sank into Anti’s stomach as the two of them toppled back, smacking against the armchair and falling to the floor. Jameson tried to stab Anti two more times, but to no effect, his hand just passing through his body this time. Anti looked at him in shock—and then disappeared. Jameson stared at the place he’d been, and then growled and punched the floor right where Anti’s face was.

“Holy shit, JJ!” Marvin gaped. “I know he sucks but—but that was so sudden! Did you really have to—”

“I-I...”

Chase inhaled sharply. That voice... JJ was...

“I…” Jameson leaned back, kneeling and clutching his head. “I-I ammm... I-I am nnh...”

Marvin went pale. He hurried over to Jameson’s side, kneeling next to him. “JJ, don’t—you know that it’s hard for you to—y-you don’t have to—”

“I am nn—!” Jameson continued. “I-I am n-nah—n-naht... I a-am nnot a d-dahl. I-I am—not! A d-d-doll!” His breath hitched as tears filled his eyes. “I-I am n-not a doll! I am not a d-doll! I am not a doll!” The tears overflowed, streaming down his face as he screamed the words over and over. Marvin, shocked, silently put a hand on his back, and when Jameson didn’t pull away, he wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “I a-am not a doll! I am not a doll!”

Chase stood nearby, shocked at what he was seeing. Part of him felt like he should leave. But... another part of him knew he shouldn’t. He slowly walked forward, kneeling on the ground in front of Jameson but staying out of arm’s reach, just in case. “You’re not a doll,” he said quietly. “You’re... y-you’re a person. With your own thoughts and stuff. Your own things that you like and want. I-it’s not fair that people just... want you to do what they want. Or that they... just kinda assume you’re not bothered by stuff that would clearly bother you.” He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “I’m... I’m sorry.”

Jameson looked up at him through watery eyes, breathing heavily.

“I... I-I think I was maybe... not all that good at seeing how scared you were,” he continued. “I think... I just thought that since you didn’t say anything, you weren’t bothered. But... clearly, something really bad was happening. If you were okay with being hurt to get rid of it.” He took a deep breath. “But you’re my friend, JJ. I don’t want you to be hurt, by yourself, or by other people, or... by me. You’re not a doll. You’re fun, and brave, and weird in a good way, and I-I like how you can be funny in a quiet way, and I like how much you like your film and theatre stuff, and... and I like you, JJ. The real you, not whatever your parents or the teachers or the Circle people see about you. All the books and smarts and stuff. I mean, you are smart, but you’re so many other things. And I’m sorry I didn’t... I didn’t get you.”

Jameson’s breathing had calmed down, but he was still crying slightly. It was a different kind of crying, though. Thank you, Chase, he said, hands trembling slightly. I’m glad we’re friends. You messed up a bit, but I know you care. I’m glad we’re friends. I’m glad we’re friends.

Chase smiled slightly. “Yeah. Me too.” He took a deep breath. “Um... so. The ‘let’s destroy the doll’ thing was a really bad idea. We can all agree on that, right?”

JJ laughed. Yeah, that sucked. Not very smart of me. I guess I just... really, REALLY wanted it gone. Thanks for suggesting the... doll surgery instead.

“Ha. It was kinda doll surgery, wasn’t it?”

“I can’t fucking believe neither of us thought about that,” Marvin muttered. “Maybe we were just too scared to try. But like—messing the doll up over and over was even scarier, and your idea made more sense. I can’t believe after all that time, it was that easy to get rid of that fucking thing. Ugh.” He looked at the remains of the doll on the coffee table. The blood-crusted stuffing and crystal fragments. “What do we do with that?”

“I say we light the bloody stuff on fire,” Chase said. “And then like... bury the crystals. And the doll. In two different spots.”

JJ shook his head slightly. I don’t think we bury the doll. We should keep it somewhere we can keep an eye on it. The crystals, though, that’s a good idea. I don’t want to touch them, though.

“I’ll take care of it.” Marvin let go of JJ and crawled over to the coffee table, putting the crystals in his pocket. “And let’s also burn this shit.” He put the bloody stuffing into the pitcher, then grabbed the lighter. Greenlight surrounded his hand, and he levitated the lighter down into the pitcher as well, using the greenlight to turn it on and light the stuffing on fire. Then he quickly pulled the lighter back out.

They all watched as the fire burned.

And once it started to die down, Chase hurried over to grab the pitcher. “I’m gonna put this out with water,” he said. “We don’t wanna mess up the bottom of the jug.” He hurried into the kitchen and filled up the pitcher. All that was left inside was ash, which he dumped out into the sink with the water. Then he put the pitcher back where it was on the counter and returned to the living room. “Well. What d’you guys want to do now?”

JJ looked at the TV. Can we start the movie over? Actually watch it? And can we get Sinney, too?

“Yeah, of course, JJ,” Marvin said.

Chase sat down on the sofa. “We’ll have a nice night with a movie and a cat.”

JJ smiled. He climbed onto the sofa, too, sitting next to Chase. Marvin got Sinney from their room, and they started the movie over, silent the whole time as they watched it to the end.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #pnptau #brigid writes fanfiction

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aheckinmess · 24 days ago

Text

We Need a Little Christmas

(Part 2 of The Snowball Effect)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Enji Todoroki, Endeavor, Reader, Endeavor x Reader, Enji Todoroki x Reader, Christmas Special, We Need a Little Christmas, Making Christmas Cards, Christmas Cheer, This One's Short, But Still Cute, Looking at the Todoroki Family All Happy Together, Happy Todoroki Family, Merry Christmas, I'm Half Asleep Writing This

Word Count: 661 words

Summary: When your Christmas cards finally get delivered, Toya brings them in so you can look over the Todoroki family Christmas photo.

Playlist: The Snowball Effect

December 2

“Mom, the Christmas cards came in.” Toya grunts, tossing the package on the dining table. A moment later, you hear the fridge door open and he rummages through its contents.

“Thank you, Toya.” You focus on chopping vegetables and wait for the rice cooker to beep. “Do you know if your brothers are still with your father?”

“Yeah. I just came back from the park early because I didn’t feel like hanging around. My Christmas present for Dad was supposed to be in today, but your cards were the only thing in the mail.” He huffs.

“Aww, I’m sorry, honey. What did you get him?”

“It’s the latest ultimate edition of Hero Hub. So we can study it together and work on some new moves!” Toya bounces on the soles of his feet as he munches on a spicy cucumber. “What did you get him?”

“Oh, you know, the typical workout gear, the new edition of his favorite book series, that sort of thing.” You throw the newly cooked rice into a wok with your veggies. “Especially the workout gear. He burnt through one of his last pairs the other week.”

“Hehe, he does that a lot, doesn’t he?” Toya’s array of red and white waves bristle as he moves closer to you. “Is that all you got ‘im?”

“No, Toya, but I want some of it to be a surprise for him.”

“C’mooonnn, Mom…” He bats those pretty blue eyes at you - eyes he inherited from his father and naturally makes you sigh.

“No, Toya. I want everyone to be surprised by this. Well, Fuyumi and Natsuo might not be impressed, but I know you will. It’ll make your excitement all that much sweeter.”

“Is it a hero thing?!”

“Yes, it’s a hero thing.”

“YES!” Toya whoops, pumping his fist in the air before you fill a large bowl with fried rice and vegetables.

“You can make a plate if you’d like, Toya. I’m going to see if I can’t get started on making a list for Christmas cards.” You turn off the burner.

In the dining room, you sit on the cushion while fighting with the package to open. Eventually, you dig through the plastic and open the box inside, a smile lighting up on your face as the pristine image of your happy family twinkles back at you.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning to show Toya the picture.

It takes him a moment as he makes a bowl of rice, before he leans in and shrugs.

“I guess we look nice.” He grumbles.

“I’ll take that as a compliment from you.”

“Christmas cards have come in?” Enji’s visage alights in the door, before four sets of footsteps tear through the entryway and into the kitchen.

Looking up gives you the welcome sight of Enji in a rare moment of softness. Anger and annoyance don’t crease his skin. A smile even tickles the edges of his lips while he gazes upon you.

“Want to see, Enchan? You look quite handsome, if I do say so myself.”

He takes the glossy card from your hand. Does he also see the tell-tale smirk tattooed into Toya’s expression? Or maybe he recognizes the way Natsuo fails to hide his smile for the camera? There’s no doubting the hope glittering on Fuyumi and Shoto’s face as they both huddle around Tenko, who looks irritated by the attention.

And finally, there’s you and Enji. Joy dresses you up nicely at the idea of having your family altogether for a Christmas picture. But Enji? Enji stands tall and proud of his family, his home, his reason for living – despite the neutral expression veiling it.

“It’s lovely.” He gives you a kiss on the cheek as he hands it back.

“Christmas looks good on the Todorokis, doesn’t it?” You coo, fondling the scruff growing in on his chin.

“It does. I think this world could use more of this sort of cheer.”

Day 3

Credit to @saradika-graphics for the holiday banner! Thank you so much!

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citrinekay · 2 months ago

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Hey! I’ve been meaning to reach out and say hi for a while! Finally, I got a re-blog from you, tysm!! I’ve seen quite a few of your JCW posts (and also your stuff on various fandoms on AO3) and I know you’re quite the JCW fan – me too! Actually, I wanted to message to let you know that I think what you’re doing with the Andy/Revolver fanfic you’re writing is amazing. I read the first chapter a few days ago and am interested to see what you do with the story. The way you are dealing with some very sensitive topics is so well written, and I love the thought you have put into Andy’s character to give him this dark backstory. I’m looking forward to reading the rest when it’s completed, I never do well with chapter by chapter!! Also, well done for being the first to post for the Revolver fandom, I remember a short time back having to do that for the Pachinko fandom and I was nervous as hell. You are a very talented writer for sure, so I know the Revolver one will be a good read. Hopefully you’ll be inspired with Gangnam B-Side too once we see more. Anyway, sorry for waffling on, but if you ever wanna enthuse about JCW feel free to message ❤️ ~ take care

Hi!! I've also seen your name popping up on AO3 too whenever I go to publish something JCW-related, like oh there's that one other person who loves him as much as I do😊lol I watched Worst of Evil last October and just fell completely in love him/ haven't been able to get back out of the obsession spiral since then thanks to pretty much every work he's done being worth watching. I don't expect the fixation to end any time soon haha

I'm genuinely so happy to receive feedback on my Revolver fic! Before I started posting, I made peace with the fact that it wasn't going to get much engagement since I had to create the fandom tag myself, but of course I do want some people to read and enjoy it. I was also fairly nervous about approaching those sensitive topics, so it's a relief to know that the way I'm presenting it doesn't feel offensive or tactless. It's always my intention to show the dark sides of human nature and relationships in a compelling but empathetic way. I couldn't stop thinking about the crumbs they gave us about Andy and Grace's relationship after I finished watching the movie, especially that final scene on the mountain when he begs her not to leave him and Madam Jung's comment to Suyeong that there's "rumors that he's her lover." She doesn't even allow people to know he's really her mom, which in and of itself could be pretty damaging to someone's development, but it seemed to me that the toxicity between them goes further than just this secret. They were clearly manipulating each other in that moment when she starts to walk away and then he cries and begs her not to leave. I thought that it seemed as if they had been through this type of push-and-pull before, a vicious cycle from which there is no escaping, and I really wanted to examine what had led up to that point.

It also really struck me that even though Andy is a privileged, wealthy person, he is drinking alone when Suyeong first meets him. Nobody rushes to his rescue when she's beating him and nobody really cares that he got hurt afterward (not even Grace, she's just mildly annoyed!) While it's true that his behavior invites getting his ass kicked, I think that anyone acting with such conscious disregard of their own life and everyone else's might have serious trauma that has never been addressed. Anyway, I totally understand waiting to read the fic until it's complete and I hope you enjoy the rest once it's done. I'll be updating weekly, so it shouldn't be too much longer.

Also, absolutely yes about Gangnam B-Side. I watched the first 2 episodes on Wednesday evening and my brain is already tickling with many thoughts about Gilho. As always, JCW is delivering a performance full of depth and nuance 🖤 I'll wait until the show has finished airing and I have all the character details to start writing but atm I can almost guarantee there will be some fics coming from me!

#ask #my writing #revolver 2024 #ji chang wook

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mistresslrigtar · 11 months ago

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Written for @hurricane105 for @zelinkcommunity loftwing letters24! Happy V-day, hurricane! I hope you like this post-BotW slice of Hateno life Zelink story. Have a fantastic day☺️

Sowing Seeds of Love

Summary: It's an annual tradition in Hateno for women to offer gifts of appreciation to those they care about on Sowing Day. Little does Zelda know that the gift she gives Link expresses more than platonic affection. Will she realize that perhaps he means more to her than she has dared to realize?

1.6k Read below or on AO3

The pouch slung over Zelda’s shoulders shifted with each step, bouncing against her hip as she walked through Hateno village. Periodically, she couldn’t help but reach inside to ensure the small, white box tied with a satin blue ribbon was safely tucked away. It was a Sowing Day gift for Link she’d chosen at the East Wind on her way home. The store’s merchant, Pruce, had assured her that it was a traditional Hateno custom for women to give appreciation gifts on Sowing Day.

She’d picked a sand seal plushie for Purah and a potted tomato plant for Symin to give tomorrow when she saw them. Zelda’s heart fluttered with memories of Urbosa as she thought of the gift she’d chosen for Link: three rich chocolate truffles imported from Gerudo. They were a delicacy Zelda had always enjoyed, and she hoped they would also bring joy to Link.

Crossing the bridge to the home she shared with him, Zelda could hear the faint sound of him tending to their small garden at the side of the house.

“I’m home!” Zelda called as she headed inside.

Pushing the front door open, the sweet, honeyed fragrance of apple blossoms permeated the air. A vase, filled with the blooms Link must have pruned that day, sat in the center of the already set table. Zelda pulled the box out of the bag and placed it in the middle of Link’s bowl before making their dinner. In the past year, Link had taught her some basic cooking skills since, pre-Calamity, Zelda had never had to cook. She hummed happily, feeling lighter than she had in ages as she peeled and chopped a swift carrot and hearty radish to add to the stewed meat she’d left to simmer all day over the fire in the hearth.

By the time Link came in from outside, the stew was ready. Zelda placed it, sliced bread, and rice on the table while Link washed up. She took her seat and waited expectantly for him to join her.

“It smells good, Princess.” His mouth curled into a bemused smile when he saw the package in his bowl. “What’s this?”

“A Sowing Day present for you.” Zelda sat forward in her seat, returning his smile. “Open it.”

Reaching for the end of the ribbon, Link untied the bow and lifted the lid on the box. Zelda’s stomach roiled anxiously as his expression changed from delight to shock to confusion. His brow furrowed, and he blinked several times, clearly processing the unexpected gift of truffles nestled within the waxed parchment. This was not the reaction she’d expected.

Feeling self-conscious, Zelda stumbled over an explanation. “Urbosa always brought these for me when she visited. They’re my favorite. Don’t you like them?”

Link’s expression softened, and he gave her a shy smile. “I do. They’re my favorites, too.”

Despite his smile, Zelda couldn’t help but feel she’d somehow upset or disappointed him. “Did I do something wrong?”

Link shook his head slightly and cleared his throat, a hopeful glint in his blue eyes when he looked at her. “Do you know what it means to give chocolates on Sowing Day?”

“Pruce said women gave gifts to show their appreciation. I bought Purah a plushie and Symin a plant. With your sweet tooth, I thought you’d like Gerudo chocolates.” Frowning, Zelda pulled her brows together when Link’s smile faltered, and the brief light in his eyes faded.

“Ah, I see.” Link nodded politely. “Thank you, Princess. We can enjoy them after dinner.”

He set the box aside and spooned rice and the creamy meat soup into their bowls. Zelda’s cheeks flamed, realizing she’d missed something significant regarding her gift, but she was too embarrassed to press Link further. They spent the remainder of the meal discussing how they’d spent their day. After cleaning up, Link declared he was tired from working in the garden all day and departed to the room he’d fashioned for himself in the lean-to behind the house. Zelda spent the night sleeping fitfully, wondering if she’d misinterpreted Link’s response to her gift.

The following day, Zelda rose, intending to ask Link again if he was all right, but found a hastily scrawled note on the kitchen table that he’d gone hunting and would be back later that evening. Sighing, she gathered her satchel and headed to the Ancient Tech Lab. Along the way, she greeted her fellow villagers with a friendly wave and nod. Once past the village proper, Zelda fretted over Link’s odd behavior as she trudged up the winding path, and the rising sun warmed the top of her head.

The clang of a hammer rang in the air before the building came into sight. Cresting the hill, Zelda saw through the open front door ten-year-old Purah standing at her lab table, fully absorbed in pounding a rectangular piece of metal. Spare circuits and wiring were spread over the surface, that wasn’t already covered with pages of schematics. As usual, Symin cataloged his specimens at the back of the room.

“Good morning, Purah and Symin.” Zelda smiled, pulling out the gifts she’d brought them. “Happy belated Sowing Day!”

Purah’s eyes lit up when she spied the sand seal. “Check it!” Grabbing the stuffed animal from Zelda, she ripped it at the seams and pulled out the stuffing. “I love it, Princess! This is just what I needed for my next project!”

“Ah, Princess Zelda, you shouldn’t have.” Symin’s cheeks pinked when he accepted the tomato plant.

“It’s the least I could do for all you two have done for me over the past year.” Their reactions were exactly how she’d hoped Link would have responded yesterday. Biting her lip, Zelda pulled her research journal and the Sheikah Slate out of her bag before stowing it beneath the lab table.

Ever observant, Purah instantly pounced on Zelda’s melancholy. “Is something on your mind this morning, Princess?”

Zelda shook her head as she laid the items on the table. “Oh, I was just thinking about Link. I gave him chocolates for Sowing Day, and he acted strangely.”

“Oh, snap!” Purah pushed her red glasses down her nose and leaned in, peering owlishly at Zelda. “You did what?!”

Taken aback by Purah’s reaction, Zelda flushed. “I gave him chocolates, as a gift, but he was… confused.”

“I bet he was!” Purah's snicker fueled Zelda’s blush. “Giving chocolates on Sowing Day is a romantic gesture!”

“It’s true!” Symin chimed in from his corner, cheeks reddening in sympathy to Zelda’s sudden plight.

“Romantic? I didn’t know that…” Zelda’s mind reeled as she processed this disturbing information. She’d grown to admire Link, but the thought of romantic love had never crossed her mind until now. Recalling the hopeful gleam in Link’s bright blue eyes, Zelda’s heart skipped a beat, and butterflies erupted in her belly. Had she confused platonic love for true love?

“Looks like our princess unintentionally confessed her love!” Purah gleefully clapped her hands and grinned mischievously, tearing Zelda from her reverie.

Zelda’s cheeks flamed further, and her breath hitched in her chest. “Purah, please! I don’t even know if he feels the same!”

Emitting a most unladylike snort, Purah’s grin widened. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Right, Symin?”

“It’s clear he’s smitten,” Symin agreed.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Zelda didn’t know how to face Link when he arrived home that evening. Just thinking about seeing him again suddenly made her heart race with nervous anticipation.

Purah tapped her finger against her lips, contemplating the question. After a moment, her eyes brightened, and she waved her pointer finger flamboyantly in the air. “Actions speak louder than words. I say, lay one on him.”

Zelda gasped, shocked by Purah’s proclamation. “Are you suggesting I kiss him?!”

Purah shrugged. “Why not? Link may be courageous, but he’ll never make the first move. It’s up to you.”

As it was, Zelda could hardly focus on her research for the remainder of the day as visions of what kissing Link would be like consumed her. Finally, she gave up making any progress and headed home. However, as she was passing East Wind, an idea came to her, and she took a detour to purchase a few cooking supplies. The knowing smile Pruce gave her as he wrapped up the goods made her cheeks burn. It seemed an affliction she couldn’t shake today.

At home, Zelda prepared her recipe in the cooking pot outside their house, and sat by the fire occasionally tasting and idly stirring the contents.

When Link arrived a while later, he paused a few feet from Zelda. Dropping the boar slung over his shoulder, his nostrils flared, sniffing the rich scent filling the air. “That’s… a lot of chocolate.”

Zelda lifted her head to meet his steady gaze. “It’s a fraction of how much I think I may be in love with you.”

If the confection she’d made weren’t already tempered, Link's bright smile would have done the trick. Standing to close the distance between them, the taste of chocolate was still on her lips when Zelda kissed him.

End Cut Scene:

After Zelda left, Purah turned to Symin, a mischievous glint back in her ruby eyes. “If things turn out how I suspect they will, I can’t wait to see what Link gives the Princess on Harvest Day!”

Her expression turned thoughtful as she eyed Symin. “Speaking of, what are you getting me for Harvest Day, Symin?”

Purah cackled delightedly at the crimson flush coloring Symin’s cheeks that perfectly matched the setting sun.

Author’s note: I loosely based the Sowing Day/Harvest Day Hateno tradition on the Japanese Valentine’s Day/White Day tradition.

#loftwing letters #zelink community #zelink #loz breath of the wild #hateno village #Sowing Day Tradition #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #loftwingletters24 #post breath of the wild #breath of the wild

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honeysuckletoast · 3 months ago

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I finally finished writing the first chapter of the drabble Academy fic I've been dragging my feet on.

Miss Avocet's Academy for Ymbrynes.

(A/N I will eventually get these uploaded on AO3 and fanfic. Net. I also have each character's descriptions if anyone wants to see those! If you have any requests for future chapters, feel free to PM me

And thank you to @weirdddgirl for her help in giving me feedback and with the bio's for the characters)

**********************************************************

This is our newest ward, Miss Alma Bentham.” Miss Avocet presented the young girl proudly in the class room. Alma looked around at the other girls. There was around 5 of them that Alma could see, plus the other headmistress who wasn't present. She hadn't met miss Bunting yet, having arrived last night and missing breakfast with the others from sleeping in.

“I wish Jack and Myron were here…” the peregrine thought as she looked up at the black haired woman standing beside her. Neither Alma or Miss Avocet knew where they would be placed, but Miss Bobolink assured her they would be very close by.

“And Roisin, stay back a minute please dear.” Alma snapped back from her thoughts as the girls all started to pack up from their desks and shuffle out from the classroom discussing their plans for the free afternoon.

“I wonder which one’s Roisin” Alma murmured, eying a few of the younger girls who walked by. “They all look friendly…..at least all except that girl” she thought at the sight of a tiny girl with brown hair and gold rimmed glasses who was having her ear talked off by another girl who was practically bouncing as she walked off

“We could go down into the town and get croissants Alice!” The blonde haired girl shook the supposed Alice’s arm, getting a more than displeased look from the girl.

“Millie stop your gonna hurt her fragile bones” another girl teased as they all left, continuing their banter down the hall.

“Wait everyone's gone, where is Roisin-” Alma started until a sudden flash of green and white sped in front of her, nearly sliding into the wall from the force as she tried to stop herself.

“You wanted to see me miss? I'm so sorry I’m late getting back, Miss Bunting needed help carrying her old desk downstairs.”

Alma's forest green eyes widened at the huge figure as she steadied herself. Bright red hair cascaded down the woman's back, reaching past her cream colored blouse to her dark green skirt, even all kinked up in curls. The 10 year old girl felt herself start trembling as she grabbed Miss Avocet’s hand, shuffling behind her. “She's even taller than Miss Avocet.”

“Alma, this is Roisin Gannet. She's our oldest ward and she's very friendly. She's gonna take you around and introduce you to the other girls while I go to see where your brothers will be placed, right, Miss Gannet?” Miss Avocet asked sternly.

“yes Ma'am." the girl echoed as she bent down to be half her height, but yet was still taller than Alma. "Do women even get this tall? Or this freckled?" Alma thought as Miss Avocet took away her barrier and stepped away, transforming and flying out the window. Roe picked up her head mistress's clothing, folding them and laying them on top of a light green changing screen that sat in the corner of the room besides a skeleton that was standing posed like a flower girl, a withered bouquet of daisy's in the bony hands.

“Why do you guys have a skeleton? Is he…..you know real?” Alma asked roe amin a whisper as if the skeleton could hear her.

“Oh! That's mister tempus, he's our mascot of sorts." roe explained as she walked over “I dunno where miss bunting found him, but I think he is real.” Roe held up the skeletons wrist “do you want to come see?”

“No no thank you!” Alma gave a curt wave as she looked around the room to see if there were any more objects of interest. Besides a few hand drawn diagrams and a huge bookcase in the left corner, nothing else caught her eyes.

“Oh yer’ so tiny!” Alma jumped as Roisin was suddenly in front of her again, “sorry, forgot to actually introduce myself, “I'm Roisin, but you can call me Roe if it's easier. I'm 16 years old, and I'll be showing you round’ the academy!” Roe chipped then offered Alma her freckled hand. The Peregrine looked back at the window where Miss Avocet had left, but no bird remained in sight.

“Guess I don't have a choice.” She thought as she took the huge hand being offered to her. Roe smiled, holding the door open for her.

“Now, I know my accent is thick as fog, if ya need me to repeat myself, don't worry, just ask” Roe advised as she worked down the hall, shifting slightly as she looked out to the courtyard. “say, I noticed yer a bit frightened. Is it me causin’ ya the fright ?” She asked gently, bending down again to be Alma's height with a tiny smile. Alma blinked, looking at anything but the woman in front of her.

“I-i shouldn't lie, mama gets mad when we lie…..but maybe I need to do so she doesn't kill me?” Alma wondered silently as the hand that was holding her was placed on hsr shoulder. Alma tensed, then looked up to meet Roe's gaze

“Woah your eyes!” Alma forgot her terror for a moment as she stared at her baby blue eyes. The woman grinned “I know, they are a bit of an odd shade” she said. “And if you're scared of me, please don't be?” Roe said awkwardly. “I-i know I'm a bit tall and big” she shuffled “I know I scare the kids sometimes too. Just comes with being over 6 feet ya know?”

Alma shuffled her feet, nodding silently. "I probably made her feel horrible" Alma wondered as she looked input the window to the forest just beyond the gates.

“But I promise, I'll try to be the best sister and friend to ya. So if you need anything, just ask okay? Miss Avocet told me yer room is across from mine, so if ya need anything’, night or day, just come in okay? You might have to nudge my shoulder though” Roe explained, but looked away towards the window as she dabbed her eyes

“I didn't mean to make you cry!” Alma exclaimed and quickly hugged the gannet tight. Roisin couldn't help but laugh slightly as rubbed her eyes.

“It's not you love. I had a baby sister yer age.” She said gingerly, fiddling with her hair as she spoke “she's no longer with us, ya know? Just found out a month or two ago.” the gannet sighed. “She was the same height as ya, just as shy too, you just remind me of her a bit”

“oh….i’m so sorry” Alma squeezed her hug tighter. Roe smiled, bending down to hug her back.

“Thank you” She smiled “now let's go meet the other huh?” Ama nodded, finally feeling a bit more at ease as she took Roe's hand back.

Roisin took her down a long corridor to a set of French style doors. “Let's see ... .ah Millie and Alice! They are both around yer age.” She smiled and ushered the girl inside. Alma stepped in as roe shut the door, immediately being bombarded by a girl with bright blond waves and two mocha brown eyes.

“Hi Alma. My name is Millie! Millicent thrush! I'm 12 years old and I hope we can be friends! I love your hair, and your shoes! Do you like the color blue? It suits you! You can sit next to me in-

“Don't scare her off her first day Millie my goodness!” A strict voice came from the next girl sitting next to her. “You're gonna give her a stress induced heart attack!” She snapped as she closed her book. Alma stood up on her toes, reading the cover while Millie gave a half response to Alice.

“The Blue Fairy book”. Alma read aloud as Alice quickly grabbed the book off the table, holding it in her lap as she avoided Millie's smug gaze.

“Don't be like that Alice” Roe warned gently. “Millie is like a child, very easily excited by life’s little joys.”

“Maybe you should try it sometime Alice! It's so much better than gloom and doom!” Millie poked Alice's cheek lightly. The tiny girl huffed but sat up straighter when she realized it was her turn to introduce herself.

“Good day. I'm Alice Mariie Jones, or Alice Treecreeper. I'm 13 years old.” she said, moving to resume her reading. Alma looked up at Roisin who gave a soft sigh, turning towards the huge glass windows that lined the room. Soft green curtains covered each one to prevent most of the light from seeping in.

“Alice, you must open these while you're reading, you know what Miss said about your eyes becoming easily strained!” Roe said as she opened the curtains but continued speaking “Alice is a little…..introverted. she prefers her books to people” she said as she opened up the window, sticking wood inside the base to prop them open.

Alma nodded, taking a seat in the third arm chair in half circle.

“I love the book you're reading, Alice.” Alma tried to start a conversation. “My mama read it to me and my brothers.” Alma commented on the fairytale book, then turned and looked around the elaborate parlour, taking note of the multiple bookshelves stacked with books of all shapes and sizes. Neatly tucked into the walls. “You all have enough books to have a library!” She exclaimed

Millie rolled her eyes “reading is my least favorite thing, and that's all Alice does! She's the most boring roommate!” She lightly nudged Alice who didn't respond, simply turning her page with contained annoyance.

“wait until you see the real library. Miss Avocet believes strongly in reading” Alice commented as she pulled her tan shawl tighter to her shoulders. "So Alma, do you have a favorite book?” Alice asked curiously. “Millie doesn't know how to read, nor will she ever be able to learn how, it's nice that someone else enjoys it here”

“Do you see how she treats me?!” Millie flopped back on the fainting couch dramatically as Alma giggled, but then paused for a moment and thought “I don't think I have a favorite one. I like most everything I read” she finally gave an answer. Alice nodded, looking down at her book again

"what's your favorite book?” Alma asked back. Alice closed her book again, but didn't pause at all to think as she took her glasses off to clean them.

“Gray’s Anatomy.” She said automatically as Millie couldn't help but stifle a chuckle.

Alma tilted her head, her brows furrowing slightly as a quirked smile adorned her face. “isn't that an adult book?” she asked, remembering seeing Myron with a book similar to that name. Alma had barely taken a glance at it before her mother told him to stop reading it since it was for adults, and took it from him. “Wonder if she ever gave that back?” she thought as Alice nodded.

“Yes, it's a medical book. I like studying the human body and its capabilities, especially in a peculiar sense.” Alice shrugged “My parents never had children's books like this, they said it’s brain rot.” She held up the book. “but I really like fairy tales alot too,” she admitted sheepishly

“We all like different things” Alma smiled “I like fairy tales also. They are probably my favorite genre to read.” She said as Roe came back from opening the last window.

“We all like to cling to our fairy tales until the price in believing them becomes too high” Alice shrugged “then we are pulled back to reality.”

“Alice, she’s like 8 years old,” Millie teased as Alma's hand was taken up by roe to move on.

“Come see us if you have free time today! I can show you how to get to the candy store !” Millie bounced in her seat. “and I think I'm down the hall from you if you ever need anything!” She welcomed Alma, getting up and hugging the tiny girl. Alma broke into a smile “she's so bubbly”

“That stuff is bad for your teeth and you sleep like your dead Millicent” Alice flipped her page and continued reading “I'll be awake if you need anything ever though.” Alice called after Alma as the door clicked closed.

“We should keep moving, yes?” Roe asked, “Enid and Cathy are down in the garden.”

Alma nodded, following the tall girl outside into the vine entangled archway. Fresh honeysuckle had bloomed on nearly every square inch of the trellis that marked the entrance to the courtyard. Flowers of many different shades and sizes dappled the grounds underneath the towering willow and maple trees. A few wooden swings creaked in the light winds that brought light wisps of fresh rain on the horizon.

“who takes care of the gardens here?” Alma gasped as Roisin as she moved a few willow branches back to reveal two teenagers were seated on a conversation bench, chatting away underneath the dark clouds.

“Miss Avocet assigns us each a plot to take care of, well” the gannet paused “she might assign you to just help someone else sense all the beds are taken up.” roe answered as she ushered Alma underneath the branches. “It's a friendly competition. Every year whoever has the best bed at the end of harvest gets to pick a field trip!”

“And I seriously was thinking about giving in and backhanding this guy, because how rude to be so disrespectful to an miss Sandpiper!? she's so fragile as is and-

“Enid, Cathrine, say hello!” Roisin exclaimed loudly, catching both of them off guard as a warning to shut their mouths. Both of the girls quickly hushed, turning towards the taller woman.

“Oh my goodness….” The teenager to the right blinked, moving her long black braids to the side.“She's so tiny!”

“Alma, why don't you introduce yourself?” Roe nudged her forward. Alma looked up at her and then back at the two women.

“I guess the others were very kind” Alma stood up straighter and curtsied “I'm Alma, Alma Bentham”

“Oh love we aren't worth even a curtsy! Save that for the important people!” One of them laughed gently then continued “I'm Cathrine, Cathrine swallow, or glassbill.”

Alma felt her face flush “o-oh okay” she took Roe’s hand again. “Why do you have two last names? That's fancy” Alma asked.

“Well, I'm a swallow, but there is already a Miss Swallow. To avoid confusion, I picked a different name-”

“By slamming two of the weirdest words together-”

“Ah, yes, coming from the person who couldn't spell Swallow the other day I had to choose two words I was positive you could spell Enid.” Cathy teased. Alma couldn't help but giggle at the two.

“She has me there, I can't spell to save my life.” Enid laughed. “But hello, I'm Enid Finch. You might've met my Auntie, also miss Cora Finch While at the council,

“You have an aunt who's an ymbryne too!?” Alma gasped “Miss Bobolink told me that was impossible yesterday!”

“it's rare. Most of us don't have any ymbrynes or even other peculiars in our families. I just got….lucky. One in a million chance” she shifted, looking down at the floor as a less-than-well hidden frown appeared.

“So what's your bird Alma?” Cathrine quickly picked up the conversation before the young girl could ask anymore questions.

“A peregrine” Alma rocked on her heels. “Miss Bobolink told me birds of prey are rare” she recounted the woman from the council when they met last week.

“They are. Peregrine's are beautiful!” Roisin chimed in “I suppose that's where you got that feather clip on your hair huh?” she asked, her fingers lightly brushing the top of the feather

“That's from my old ymbryne miss Dottrel. She made it for me!” Alma unclipped it and held it up for Roisin.

“I didn't know you had an Ymbryne before this” roe took the clip and started to examine it.

Alma nodded as she rubbed her right eye “They told me I was too young to come to the academy. She took me in when I was really young and kept me until I just turned ten last week!”

“You must be very impressive then!” Cathy said as she stood up to stretch. “Miss Avocet doesn't usually take girls this young, it's amazing that at this age you were even able to transform!” Cathy added, “took me till I was 14 and I'm only 15 now!” she said as Enid stood up with her

“It is indeed impressive.” Enid chuckled softly. “Maybe if your skills are as good as your manners, you can teach the boy I encountered yesterday at Miss Loon's loop.” she muttered more to Cathrine as she suppressed a laugh.

“I suppose it's time we head in for supper, no?” Cathy asked as she moved the vines back. Enid got up with a nod.

“Yes, I'm surprised miss Avocet even let miss Bunting back in the kitchen to cook after last week” roe laughed. “Miss bunting nearly lit the kitchen on fire last week.” Roe told Alma who cupped a hand to her mouth.

“I didn't dear. She's still not allowed to cook for one reason or another.” Miss Avocet suddenly appeared from the side of the house with two young men in tow.

“Jack! Myron!” Alma grinned, running up and hugging Jack tight. Miss Avocet watched with a faint smile

“We have decided that your brothers will stay here so as to not break your family up. You all seem very close and I want you to grow up with them.” Miss Avocet explained. Alma nodded, hugging Myron who more readily accepted the hug than jack. Miss Avocet smiled, then looked over at the trio of teenagers.

“Enid why do you have that sour look on your face?” Miss Avocet asked “that's unbecoming of a young lady to stand there with your mouth agape” she chastised. Enid quickly shut her mouth but turned to Catherine and Roisin

“That's the boy! The boy from yesterday!” She hissed, holding Cathrine back so the others could walk ahead “that's who was rude to Miss Sandpiper!”

Jack turned, his eyes narrowing onto Enid as glared right back.

#miss peregrines home for peculiar children #ymbryne #ymbrynes #mphfpc #alma peregrine #fanfic

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hereforthefanficsandromance · 1 year ago

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The Way He Looks at You Series I:XVII

Act I: The Way He Looks at You Chapter 17: The Way He Follows You

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series

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Chapter Summary

Cal begins his new hunt after his plans go awry. Rating: 18+ Words: 2.7K

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The darkened sky is changing as I clip my lightsaber back to my utility belt. The job is finally complete, though I waited until the last possible moment, a teenage boy lies dead at my feet. I had tried for too long to convince him to join the Empire; showing him the power that can have as an Inquisitor. But his heart was unfortunately in the right place and I can show no further mercy.

I stare at his face in pity; the feeling is annoying and unexpected. Since becoming an Inquisitor, I have enjoyed hunting others who are Force-sensitives. The Jedi were easy kills for my conscience, a clear enemy and threat to the Empire. But as their numbers dwindle, we now also hunt those who were born after the purge. It hasn’t been a problem as I find myself furious that they would reject the power of the Dark Side when I so nicely offer them a choice.

That’s why I prefer working alone, I can present a choice; though it hasn’t worked, I sleep easier knowing I tried. I don’t have the same blood lust as several of my Brothers and Sisters. Still, I did like killing those that spat in my face and rejected my offer. But since meeting her, I almost feel bad for the boy in front of me. It didn’t help that he was polite about it, telling me he understands why I must kill him. The interaction makes my blood boil, and I roll him over with my foot, placing his face down against the sand.

I shake the lingering feelings of guilt and turn my attention to think about her as I begin the journey back on foot. I really need to figure out what to call her, I don’t know her real name, it’s safer that way. Mine? Makes her sound like nothing more than an object. She is mine, but I don’t want to reduce her to just that. Though it has a nice ring to it.

Perhaps my love? She looked so pretty when she confessed her love, all while letting me claim her tight cunt. The name would fit and I’m sure she would like it. She’d probably blush and give me a big smile the first time I use it. If I say it to her each time she cums, I could make her even more needy just by calling out to her. Make her body crave me whenever I whisper it against her ear. She is already so easy; only requiring that I give her eye contact and her lustful mind does all the work preparing her body for my taking.

It’s why I kept her to begin with, I like the way she thinks about me. I did not know how badly I wanted submission, specifically submission without having to ask. It is contrary to the rest of my existence where I have to fight for everything. But not with her, from the moment I met her and peered in her mind, I saw she wanted me; wanted to submit to me, to belong to me. I’m sure the Force brought her to me, though I’m not sure why I would deserve her after the atrocities I’ve committed.

The sky is lighter, but the sun remains hidden, if I am late, she may already be gone. Though the thought of her actually leaving at dawn causes the corners of my mouth to raise. She has proven her loyalty and there is no doubt in my mind that if I were late, she would still wait for me.

Though I may have to punish her for not obeying my command, bend her over my knee until she is begging for the pain to stop. I imagine she would like it despite the pleas; each strike causing her body to weep for me. Perhaps I’d rub the red skin tenderly between blows, maybe dipping my fingers down to stroke her slit once or twice before raising my hand again. I almost want to be late just for the opportunity of seeing her so broken in my lap.

The walk is now significantly more uncomfortable as I have to adjust my hardening cock in my pants. Her lustful thoughts are rubbing off on me, I thought little about such activities before her arrival. When I had carnal needs, I would find a willing enough woman and take what I needed, then return to my work. But now, I need her; I find it difficult to think about much else.

I take care to be as kind as I can, but the things she thinks; it makes me hungry to overpower her, own her, consume her. I desire her more than I thought possible, but I try to resist the needs for her sake. She seems to prefer when I am more gentle. I don’t want to hurt her, however I so badly want to lose control each time I fuck her. I am hoping over time to expose her to the other side of my lust, the side that she created with her thoughts.

A small part of me dislikes her kindness and loyalty, if only she would resist enough to give me the opportunity to be rough with her. While her thoughts are bad, she is so good; even betraying the Jedi for me. While I don’t like him, it is nice to not have to kill one of the few remaining parts of my past life. However, I hate that our time together was less than it should have been, but she more than made up for it with her words the other night.

The walk is tedious, but the time passes quickly enough, the sinister thoughts of tricking her into disobeying are a pleasant distraction. The edge of the city nears and I jog to get there faster. Despite my dark desires, I feel giddy with excitement at the thought of holding her in my arms. When I am close enough, I use the Force to reach out, trying to feel if she is awake or not since the sun is on the verge of rising.

Odd, I felt nothing, perhaps I have not meditated enough recently. Entering the dim lobby I continue to feel for her. There is no sign of her life, and I break into a sprint up the stairs, taking several at a time and using the Force to propel me upwards. Terror floods into my veins as I run, every worst-case scenario enters my mind. In one motion I unlock and open the door, hoping I’ve lost my connection to the Force and not her.

I am horrified to find that no one is inside. The first thing I see is the curtains shoved to one side by a dresser that is now blocking the window. I look around carefully, searching for any evidence of what transpired here. There is no doubt in my mind that the Jedi is the cause. The fear quickly turns to anger as I search the room.

She made the bed, meaning they did not steal her in her sleep. Her belongings are gone as well, she either left me or was already heading out for the day. The window makes me believe it was the latter; they trapped her in this room, and she didn’t have a choice. Then I see a piece of crumpled paper near the edge of the bed. Rushing over I recognize it immediately as one of her folding papers. I reach out to pick it up and the touch causes my mind to transport elsewhere.

I see the memory of her holding it, her face filled with joy as she reads the note. It warms my heart to see her smile. I would do anything to keep her happy, she’s so cute when she smiles, or does anything really.

The expression turns to fear as she opens the door to an attack trapping her in the room. The memory cuts and switches to the Jedi glaring at the note while she stands beside him, her face streaked with drying tears. Then I see it, his arm around her waist. I am filled with more hate and rage than I have ever felt. How dare he touch what is mine! I let him live and this is how he repays me?

The echo ends and I am holding my activated lightsaber; my body preparing to kill a man who is not here. I immediately deactivate it and clip it back to my belt to use both hands to open and smooth out the crumpled note. A clear boot print sullies the message I had left for her as a reminder of the night we shared and the important words that were exchanged. The sight increases my rage tenfold, I will make him pay, I will remove the Jedi’s head from his shoulders.

It takes all my strength to stay calm and continue to search the room. I do not know where he took her; I need more information. The rage threatens to cloud my judgment but I close my eyes to refocus my mind. I must treat this as another mission, another hunt. If I allow myself to be consumed by the thought of revenge, I risk missing important evidence needed to enact it.

Calming slightly I get to work, overturning every item in the room, looking for something I missed. I start at the front door and work my way inside, touching everything, hoping for my psychometry to latch on to something I’ve missed. The entire room is empty of information to locate her, I am becoming frantic.

I enter the bathroom at the back of the room and I don’t have to search at all. There is an obvious tin on the counter, I approach it and am provided another echo at the touch.

I see her speaking to a Gree woman in a bookshop; a shop I remember passing on the way into town. The Gree woman explains the contents of the tin and I realize the conversation that they are having. I feel a flush of embarrassment warm my cheeks. It feels so strange for someone to know about the intimate parts of my life and be willing to help them along.

I tuck the tin into my utility belt, trying to remind myself that I am an Inquisitor, not a Jedi who would be shy of such things being discussed openly. Checking the bathroom quickly for anything further but I am sure now that I have all I need. I stride outside heading quickly toward the bookshop.

It doesn’t take long to find it and since it is barely dawn; the shop is understandably closed. I use the Force to slide the lock open and pull the glass door towards me; it makes a noise, warning of a customer entering. Though at this hour, on can assume that I am no customer. I hear small footsteps pad across the upper level; I watch their passing above me and wait. Sliding the lock back into place as the door closes behind me. I move further into the store and a small Gree woman comes around the corner of a large bookshelf. I stand at my full height and start down my nose at her, one hand gripping my lightsaber menacingly.

She seems surprised but not fearful, only eyeing me carefully. “Three days is a lot.” Is all she says.

I falter, my eyebrows furrow and my posture slightly. “What?” is all that I say in response.

“Well, she was here the night before last, and the day before that, and now you’re here. I rarely have such loyal customers. Terrible customers you are, since I assume you aren’t here to buy anything.” The small woman picks up a stack of books on the ground and begins arranging them on the shelves.

“Where is she?” I say, trying to regain control of the conversation.

“Second time someone has asked me that.” She says simply, “I assumed she had returned to you that night.”

“She did.” I say slowly, feeling angry that this woman does not fear me as she should. “I left early the following morning and it would appear he took her since then and now.”

The woman stops what she is doing and turns to face me. “Perhaps she left?” There is a hint of concern on her face.

I shake my head, “There was clearly an altercation, he blocked the window to prevent her escape.”

The woman looks more worried and whispers to herself, “Oh dear.”

“Did you see her walking past with someone else, a Jedi?” I demand, my voice raising.

“I did not see her with the Jedi, Inquisitor.” She hisses back, obviously annoyed with my tone.

I try to calm myself before speaking again. This woman became close with her in just a couple days, it is the only connection I have right now.

I try again, more softly this time. “Can you help me find her? Anything is helpful, something you saw, someone who might know something. Even something here that she touched.”

The Gree woman nods and beckons for me to follow her, leading me to a door at the back of the shop. I follow her inside to see the walls lined with various tech; mostly dismantled devices that the public has access to, but some stolen from the Empire. I decide to look past it in exchange for her help.

There is a datapad in the center of the workbench. Without asking I pick it up, examining her work, remembering how much I enjoy tinkering. Though her work is far beyond my skill level, I find myself impressed, almost forgetting the reason for the visit. I turn back to face her and she is staring hard at me, as if expecting to be robbed of her work. I place the datapad back down, trying to show that I am not a threat to her creations.

“I sold her one of those, for reading.” She explains, “if she still has it with her, I can send a message.”

My face lights up, “Really? Can we track her location too?”

“Perhaps, though I can’t promise a precise location, I did not design it for that.” She explains, “I might get you a general area, but there could be many planets and moons included.”

I watch as she fires up the datapad on the workbench and types out a message to be sent. I try to grab the device but she smoothly pulls it out of immediate reach and gives me a harsh look.

“You cannot send the message, we risk losing her if they see your words. Perhaps they will destroy my device as well and we’ll have no ability to find her.” She warns.

I nod and pull my hand away, allowing her to work. She sends the message then gets to work tracking the device’s location. I wait, barely able to breathe, hoping for a quick response.

“How long will it take to get a location?” I ask impatiently.

“As long as it takes.” She responds, “Go make us some tea while I work.”

I am stunned by the order, “Absolutely not, I will wait until you have found the location.”

“I work better after I’ve had some tea, though if you’d prefer to extend the process, I understand.” She shrugs as she dismantles the device and tinkers with the small parts.

I glare at her but she does not appear uncomfortable. It feels as though I have no power here, which is not true, I could easily end this woman’s life, destroy her home, her business. Still she is calm and I realize she has the upper hand. She is the only one who can narrow my search.

I sigh heavily and grumble, “Where’s the kitchen?”

“Up the stairs. Bring two teacups with the pot.” She says without glancing in my direction.

I begrudgingly turn and try to find the kitchen. I hope that this humiliation pays off.

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Next Chapter: The Way He Changes for You

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