#cal says something for once | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

messenger-of-babel · 2 months ago

Text

Nightmares

Summary: The Wayne family calls you in When they can't snap Tim out of it. (Tim Drake x reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: Tim is my fav as Robin ❤️ Yes, I did read the Hush arc. People are oddly divided if Jason really did try to kill Tim which is an argument for a later day, but it'd still mess with anyone regardless so shhhhh. Enjoy xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was hardly ever that you were contacted by the Wayne residence, so when you got a call one Friday evening, a cold ball began forming in your stomach. With a surprised stutter you responded that you were still at the Gotham University library, studying up for your finals. Before you even got a chance to ask what was going on, Alfred kindly let you know that he was going to be picking you up before the receiver went dead.

Unsure of what to do, you shifted from foot to foot outside of the library. The night was cold for Spring, the coattails of winter still wrapped around the city. As you fidget you try to think of any reason that they would be calling you. After all, you and Tim had only been dating for eight months or so. In those eight months you had visited the manor maybe twice, much less met his family. Tim had dragged you through the hallways as soon as you hit the foyer, hurrying you to his room so fast that you could only exchange a surprised glance with the members he passed. You could only think of the worst scenarios, minutes stretching for eternity as you trapped yourself inside your mind.

What if they hated you dating Tim? You weren't from an affluent family like they were, growing up in a poor area of Robinson Park. You got into Gotham U on a scholarship, which was how you both had met in the first place. What if they looked down upon that and were going to threaten you to break up with him? If they ever chose to, they certainly would have the power and sway to. Hell, they could chase you out of Gotham entirely and no one would be the wiser. You thought of all these ideas, just to distract yourself from the underlying thought that sat like an unwelcome visitor int he back of your mind.

The little thought that whispered over and over again, 'What if something has happened to Tim?'

The Wayne car rolling to a stop in front of you was enough to snap you out of your worrying, making the ball in your stomach only grow heavier. The visage of Pennyworth, the butler, appears from the driver’s side. He gives you a small, tight, smile and exits the car, opening the back as you descend the stairs.

"After you, dear."

You hesitantly poke your head in as he waves his hand politely to the open door, blood draining from your face. You had expected the car to be empty, but as you studied the shadows it was very clearly not the case. The sturdily built man in front of you had his arm propped up on the window, chin in his palm. His deep blue eyes glinted from the shadows he seemed to melt into, rough timbre floating your way. "Come in."

You anxiously shuffle into the seat, leaving a space between you and the enigmatic Bruce Wayne. There's a tense silence as Alfred gets into the driver’s side and starts the car, headed to the Manor once more. You shuffle in your seat, pulse thudding against your neck.

"It's nice to meet you." you say, clearing your throat awkwardly. The icy eyes of the billionaire flick to you, scanning you up and down.

"And same to you." he says smoothly, staring back out the window with a rich indifference. "I'm sure you know why we called you?"

"Actually, I don't sir." you say gently, fiddling with your fingers. They gave you nothing to work off of, how could they expect you to know what was happening?

"It's about Tim." he says, and your heart flips.

"Is he okay?" falls out before you can even temper your voice properly.

"He's…in a difficult space right now." Bruce hums back at you, worry creasing at the corner of his eyes. "He won't work with any of us, won't come out. We thought that maybe you could help. Actually, Dick recommended we call you."

Dick Grayson. The only brother you had met, albeit only briefly. He had been passing through for a charity event and had come to ask Tim a question, ducking his head inside the bedroom. Tim had gone to get snacks, leaving you to nervously explain who you were. When you mentioned that you were dating Tim, a wide smile had split the older man's face. He'd promptly introduced himself, stepping inside and shaking your hand. Tim had chased him out soon after he arrived back, the elder brother's laughing echoing down the halls long after Tim had shut and locked the door.

"Is it bad?" you whisper out, fists curling on your knees.

"He's alive and physically uninjured, if that's what you're asking. Now, what I'm about to tell you is confidential. You tell anyone, and I mean anyone," Bruce's eyes flash dangerously. "Then there will be severe consequences."

When you nod his shoulders drop slightly, and he uncoils. You had always been intimidated by the man and the sheer power he wielded, but you didn't take him for someone to be so fiercely protective. There was something in his eyes that flickered when he stared you down, a scarred over wound that re-opened at the thought of you harming his family.

"I promise." you say, rising to match Bruce's tone. "I just want to help Tim."

The answer settles the wary father next to you, relaxing back into his seat.

He fills you in, dread filling your stomach more and more. He explains how they've been a target of a terrorist attack, Tim getting caught in the crossfire. The story seems wild and something in the back of your mind gets the impression he isn't telling you everything, but you remind yourself that this is Gotham, and being a rich family paints a rather large target.

"Fear gas?" you whisper, eyebrows furrowed. "I thought Batman put the Scarecrow in Arkham."

Bruce bites his knuckles but nods. "Yeah, that is what I thought too. So, we're suspecting it's either a lackey of his, or the Bat isn't as thorough as he appears." he grunts, teeth relenting their assault so he can cross his arms. "Masked annoyance." he mutters, his nose crinkling.

"How can I help?" you ask, adrenaline rushing through your veins in a mild cocktail of panic.

"Talk to him. get him to come out. We've had a doctor look him over and he'll be fine, he got out of the gassed room in time. His mental is just a bit…fragile, right now. He won't accept comfort from us. Some of us can't even get close. So, we thought you might be able to try." Bruce studies you closely. "We want to deal with this before press come snooping. It'll only affect his social life if this gets out before he's had a chance to recover, so I must reiterate the importance of your silence. This is a family matter; we will deal with it as such."

you nod along, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yes, sir."

"But do not take it to heart if my son doesn’t recognise you." he says firmly. "He isn't himself right now. This isn't a reflection on your or your relationship."

You want to ask about how much he knew about your relationship, but as you open your mouth you're cut off by the voice of Alfred. "We're here, sir."

The car rolls to a stop, and Alfred opens Bruce's door and then yours. The manor is imposing, but you don't get long to look at it before you're ushered away. You're walked to the door of Tim's bedroom; except this time your arm is being led by the sympathetic smile of Pennyworth. He leaves you in peace, and it's never felt more imposing knocking on your boyfriend's door than now.

"Tim?" you call softly, rapping your knuckles against the richly coloured wood. "Are you in there? Can I come in?"

There's no response, making worry knot up in your chest. "I'm coming in, okay?" you call out, hand hesitantly turning the brass knob and opening the door just enough so you can slip inside.

It's dark, only moonlight illuminating the scene before you. His bedsheets have been ripped from the mattress, pillows scattered around. Drawers were open haphazardly, contents spilled across the tiled floor. Your heart lurched spying the sheer curtains that fluttered in front of the open bay windows, worrying that he might have gone out there despite the drop. It calms slightly when you spy him, huddled under the desk. You approach as if regarding a cornered animal, concern twitching in your fingers. The desk was devoid of any objects, swiped clear by a frenzied arm. The drawers were open and empty, content spilled around him.

"Hey, Tim." you say, crouching to him under the desk. He looks a mess, face pressed tightly into his knees. He's curled into a ball, arms tucked under his torso, resting on the front of his thighs. "it's me." your murmur, reaching out gently. "it's just me."

He jumps as your fingers lightly brush against his arm, face snapping up. His eyes are puffy and red rimmed, cheeks stained with tears. His hair is tousled and messy, falling over the shaking of his blue irises. The sight pangs painfully in your heart, and when he no longer pulls away from your touch, your hand slowly circles his wrist. He leans into your touch, body trembling as you pull him towards you. When you manage to get him in a hug you can feel the rapid beating of his heart, the shaky and quickened breaths that he draws into his lungs.

"Please don't hurt me." he whispers, shattering your heart. You look at him wide eyed, gently tilting his face to meet yours.

"Why on earth would I do that?" you breathe out, confusion on your face. His eyes are watery and far away, lips trembling. "I'd never do that, Tim. you know that."

"Please don't leave." he chokes out. "Please. Please don't leave. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone again, I'll work harder, I’ll be smarter, I'll do better." he reassures frantically, pupils shifting rapidly. "I'll do enough this time. I'll meet your expectations. Just don't go."

Your mouth drops and there's nothing that you can say for a few moments. "Oh, Tim…" you breathe out. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? absolutely nowhere." you murmur gently. "And you don't need to promise that. You do enough, hell, you do so much. You do so much more than meet expectations, Tim. You surpass them in every way."

he shakes his head at your comforting, hair flopping in front of his eyes.

"I saw them." he mumbles, although you aren’t sure if it is to himself or to you. "They were just here, I saw them.'

"Who?" you ask softly, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.

"My parents." he mumbles back out. "I saw them. they were here. They said... They said things..."

You sigh.

Bruce had told you that the effect of the gas made people see things, vivid hallucinations conjured up to torture them. You just hadn't been able to comprehend how deep in someone's mind the fear gas was able to pull from. "And there was Jason." he chokes out. "I never meant to replace him, but he wouldn't listen, and then I felt it all over again." he stammers out, spare hand coming to trace along his throat softly. "But Jason turned into Damian, and then he pushed me and I was falling again. I'm not a real son, I'm not a real replacement I'm-"

"Stop." you command, unable to hold your own tears back at his words. You had no idea what he was saying. Jason and Damian hurting him? Tim complained lightly about his brothers at times, but he had equal amount of compliments to give them back (even if they were begrudging). It had to be the toxin messing with his mind, distorting the images he kept conjuring up.

"Tim, your brother's love you." you say. "Bruce loves you, Alfred loves you, I love you. So please," your whisper, hands holding his face. "Please, wake up, Timmie."

His pupils dilate rapidly as he peers up at you, and you can see him struggle to focus. "Please," you plead again softly. "Please come back. Trust me. You're safe."

Water spills over his lash line and his lips curl into a sob, but his body relaxes. He unfurls from the foetal position, absent rocking of his body coming to a slow halt.

"That's it," you breathe out. "Nice and easy, just take a deep breath."

When he relaxes enough for you to crawl under the desk with him, you do, his arms circling your waist as you pull his head forward to rest on your shoulder. He turns and buries his face in your neck, hot tears streaking down your skin as he sobs. "I couldn't dodge it in time…" he weakly says, hands shaking. "If I had dodged I wouldn't be seeing this. I'm supposed to be…I'm supposed to be faster than that…"

Your lips frown at the despair in his voice. From his tone it seems like he was slowly becoming more lucid, but you still had no idea what he was on about. With a few gentle encouragements you get his frantic murmuring to cease completely, fight draining out of him. You can feel the effects wearing off him as time passes, and you hate to imagine what the toxin must have done to him at full strength. You just run a comforting hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and occasionally shushing him. When you tilt your head to kiss the top of his head, your eyes narrow in on the piece of paper that had fluttered from his lap.

It had been obscured when he was curled up, pressed to his chest. now that he had begun to relax it had slipped out, landing face up. It was a photo of you, taken in black and white. He had gotten a new camera for his birthday and wanted to try it out, so he brought it to the library the next time you both met up to study together. You were looking up at the camera, smiling softly as the light from the window filtered in behind you. Your eyes follow the curve of your grin to the way your eyes crinkle joyfully as you gaze in his direction. The corners are rolled and creased from the toying of his fingers, and you softly reach out to pick it up.

His arms tighten around you as you move to retrieve it, making you rub his back comfortingly. "I'm not going anywhere." you say softly, pulling the picture back towards you. "I promise," you whisper, looking at yourself in the photo he had been cradling so reverently before you came. "I'm not going anywhere, ever."

And you intended to keep that promise before anything like this happened again.

864 notes · View notes

misctf · 1 month ago

Note

Me and my buddy get along well but I don’t have a father and for some reason I feel like I look up to him. He’s a brunette hockey player who really cares about his body and tracks all of his cals. Any way you could spike one of his beers and give me the best exjock dad ever?

“Let’s go!” Your bro throws down his game controller and looks over at you. His confident smile adorning his handsome, angular face, “I used that same move on the ice the other day.” His clear excitement is infectious and you can’t help but smile.

It was another one of your usual game nights with your bro. The two of you sitting on the couch, controllers in hand, playing some hockey videogame. And even though he always seemed to win, you just enjoy the moment. Your friendship started out when you were younger- the two of you meeting in grade school. And as the years went on, you grew closer. You’d go to his hockey games and cheer him on. He’d fill in as that male role model you needed. When you went to college, he’d continue playing hockey, while you focused on your studies. But you continued to enjoy each other’s company. But this was your last year, and he planned to move across the country. The very thought was painful. Losing him would be tough.

“Hey, you good?” He asks, “I told you I wasn’t going easy.”

You smile, “I was wondering,” You begin, “I know you don’t like beer...”

“Gotta keep these toned.” He says, running a hand down his exposed abs.

“But it’s bro night.” You continue, “I got some special beers for us.”

He seems to consider the offer. Part of him looking a bit apprehensive. After all, he spent much of his time focusing on maintaining his body. His lean muscles and thicc hockey butt were all products of his careful diet and dedicated workouts. But he could tell it would mean a lot to you. He nods slowly.

“One won’t hurt.” He says with a grin, “Cheers to another game night.”

Part of you feels relieved. Another part of you feels somewhat apprehensive. If the man you bought this beer from was telling you the truth... well, you didn’t know what to think. It was probably some prank anyway, and you probably wasted the money. You hand him a solo cup with the beer in it.

“To bro night.” He smiles and takes a sip of the beer, “You know, I’m gonna miss this.” You feel a pang of sadness in your chest, “But we’ll always be bros.”

You nod, taking in his words. Feeling a sense of impending loss. Wishing you could just enjoy these moments forever.

“I’m gonna miss this too... dad.”

He looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, “What did you just call me?” He chuckles.

And you can see it. A few hairs starting to emerge from his once clean-shaven face. A few greys appearing in his brunette locks. Was it true? Was this stuff really going to do what the man said it would?

“Nothing, dad.”

And as the words leave your lips, your buddy groans. His youthful skin starts to lose its glow. A few wrinkles appear on his forehead. And the hair on his face sprouts into a full beard. His hands rush to scratch his new facial hair and his eyes widen.

“Bro, what the hell...” He whispers, “Something’s wrong...”

“What do you mean, dad?”

You watch as his brunette locks begin to recede and his tan vanishes. All the while, small, itchy hairs start to sprout from your buddy’s chest and abs. At this point, he stands up and runs his hands down his new body hair. There’s a look of disgust and confusion on his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. After all, he did pride his clean-shaven look.

“You keep calling me dad.” He says, staring at you, “And now...” He catches a glimpse of his receding hairline and aged skin in the mirror, “Bro, please. Whatever you’re doing, you gotta fuckin’ stop.”

You could tell he was getting angry. But you were still marveling over the effects of this drink. You couldn’t believe it was actually working.

“Bro, are you even listening to me?” He says, “Please! You can’t...”

“Sorry dad.” You reply, putting even more emphasis on “dad.”

The effects are more dramatic. Your buddy lets out a pained moan and falls to his knees, gripping his abs. You can see tears fall from his eyes as he realizes his firm abs are feeling softer. And in only a few moments, his abs are covered by a thick layer of fat. And another. And another. And although your buddy is too busy squeezing his new flabby stomach, you can see his pecs fill with fat and sag, resting atop his new gut.

“This can’t be...” He winces at his new, gravelly voice, “Oh god, I sound so old.” He looks up at you, tears still staining his eyes, “Dude, come on... please... I can’t be this.”

A part of you feels bad, even guilty. Your friend’s anger replaced by fear. His confidence shattered. His toned physique truly replaced by that of a middle-aged dad. Part of you wants to reverse this. But you don’t even know how.

“I...” You bite your lip, “Look, I don’t even know if I can undo this, dad.”

Your buddy shuts his eyes and shakes as the short hairs erupt into longer follicles. You watch as a forest of hairs emerge from under his shorts and travel down his legs. His new gut and soft chest are covered in a forest of gray and dark hairs. And you realize now there’s nothing left of your old buddy, at least physically. His receding hairline, gray hairs, gut, and hirsute form all scream middle-aged dad. He slowly stands up, wincing at a pain in his lower back and knees, as he becomes more familiar with his new age.

“Dude...” He whispers, “What did you do?” You can hear the anger return to his voice.

“I didn’t want to lose you, bro.” You say, “And I’ve always looked up to you. And truthfully, I’ve always wanted a dad and the beer promised it could do that. Just as long as I called whoever drank it dad.” Your friend looks shocked and picks up the solo cup.

“Good one dude.” He laughs, “Okay, okay you got me. Maybe if I drink the beer and you call me bro or something, I can return to normal.” He says hopefully, “I promise we can forget all about this.” The desperation starts to creep back into his voice, “Just... please I don’t want this.” He begs.

You’re not a bad person. You even feel a bit guilty. And part of you even wants to do as he suggests. But another thought enters your head. Would he be able to forget all about this? Would he forgive you? You bite your lip and sigh.

“I’m sorry,” You can see his eyes widen in terror, “Dad.”

He drops the beer in his hand, causing the beer inside to spray everywhere. His eyes glaze over and his jaw goes slack. A part of you worries for a moment, but slowly he smiles. There’s no evidence of concern on his face.

“Ah sorry, I spaced out there for a second.” He chuckles, “Looks like I made a mess.” He goes to bend over to pick up the cup, but winces, “Damn back’s been acting up.”

“Don’t worry dad.” You say as he sits back down on the couch, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He reassures, “Come on, we have to finish our game.” He says with a grin, grabbing the game controller, “You know, I was quite the hockey player back in my day. Well before this.” He chuckles, patting his beer gut.

“I know.” You reply, sitting next to him, “You tell me all the time.” The two of you start to play, and you immediately notice his videogame skills are not where they used to be. But you’re enjoying this moment- going on as if nothing changed.

“Look at that!” He cheers when he scores a goal, “I told you not to take it easy on me, son.”

You go to reply but you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You quickly shake your head and return to the game. And only a few minutes later, he scores another goal.

“You doing okay there, son?” He asks.

And again, you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You look down at the controller and can’t help but notice that your forearms look a bit thicker- your hands meatier. You shake your head and look up at your dad.

“Uh, I’m good dad.” Your voice even sounds deeper- somewhat dumb too, “I-I gotta go to my room.”

You stumble towards your room, feeling somewhat off balance. Entering your room, you’re immediately hit by the smell of intense BO. The same way your bro would smell after a hockey game. There’s gear on your bed and random posters of hockey players on your walls. You barely have time to comprehend what’s going on, when you hear your dad’s voice.

“Hey son, are you okay?”

You groan as your muscles begin to contract violently and your shirt tears from your growing musculature. You can see yourself in the mirror- abs, thicc ass, and lean muscles- the body of a hockey player. And you realize that you’re becoming your dad’s ideal son. Somehow, the beer that splashed on you had the same effects as drinking it.

“Wait dad!” You call out, wincing at the oafish jock-like tone that saturates your words, “Please...!”

“Son?” He asks opening the door.

And your eyes glaze over. Your jaw goes slack. And you feel your mind warping and changing. Any memories you had of your old life or self are being forced into the very back of your mind- all to make room for your new existence as a smelly, ripped, hockey jock. Your dad’s perfect son.

“God it reeks in here.” Your dad laughs, patting you on the back, “Must be workin’ hard out there.”

“You fuckin’ know it.” You reply, eyes dull, “It’s gonna be a good game tomorrow, pops.”

“You learned from the best, champ.” He smiles, “Now come on, we got a game to finish.” You smile, “I want to show you one of my favorite moves. Worked every time. Maybe you can try it out on the ice tomorrow.”

“For sure, pops.”

You follow your dad back to the couch. The two of you playing videogames late into the night, filling the air with boisterous cheers as you played. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad. And he couldn’t have asked for a better son.

#male tf #age progression #mental change #personality tf #jock tf #dumber tf #male transformation

641 notes · View notes

retellingthehobbit · 4 months ago

Text

Tag yourself I’m #4

Essential genres of webcomics, updated for 2024:

Gag-a-day strip with the art and writing of a forgettable newspaper comic, but which inexplicably has 25 years worth of intricate setting lore and requires a day-long archive binge to fully understand the context of a grade-school pun.

Self-proclaimed deconstruction of superhero comics or giant robot anime or magical girls or something that has the exact same plot beats as every other self-proclaimed deconstruction of superhero comics or giant robot anime or magical girls or something. If you support the artist's Patreon you can download alternate versions of selected pages where the protagonist has their tits out.

Webtoon that sprang into existence complete with a hundred thousand followers at some point in the last week; the art displays immense technical mastery of figure drawing, but absolutely no grasp of panel layout, and the writing's gender politics are weirdly reactionary for something whose official synopsis manages to use the word "queer" three times in the space of two paragraphs.

Long-form narrative which hasn't received regular updates in several years due to the author's incredibly demanding real-life obligations, but instead of cancelling the comic or going on hiatus, they continue to publish one page roughly every four months with the kind of grim determination normally associated with historical anecdotes about the Battle of Stalingrad.

Fantasy adventure comic which you strongly suspect, but cannot prove, is a direct adaptation of somebody's high school GURPS campaign. The story is so elaborately and discursively plotted that you need to keep the fandom wiki open in a separate tab simply to remember who the fuck any of these people are.

Chicken-scratch parody comic about, like, Rainbow Brite fighting the Care Bears or some shit that somehow has better writing than anything on Netflix.

Semi-autobiographical slice of life comic, except with robots.

#they cal me ‘no- schedule jones’#bc I update when I have something to say #rather than shoving garbage filler at you once a week XD

9K notes · View notes

swappermanent · 15 days ago

Text

Summoned For Help

When Cal came to me with his proposal, I thought he was joking. He had that mischievous grin plastered on his face—the same one he’d worn when we were nine and he dared me to jump off the garage roof into a kiddie pool.

“Okay,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Run that by me one more time. Slowly. Because it sounded like you just asked me to possess your body.”

Cal shrugged, as if he hadn’t just proposed the most insane idea I’d ever heard. “Yeah. Possess me. Just for a bit.”

“Cal, what the actual hell? Did you hit your head at the gym or something?”

He leaned forward, his hands clasped together in mock seriousness. “Look, man, hear me out. I’m just saying, you’re good at... you know, doing the deed. And I’m not.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” I smirked. “Pretty sure half the girls in town could write a Yelp review about how bad you are in bed.”

He threw a cushion at me, but I dodged it. “Screw you, man. It’s not like I don’t try.”

“No, that’s the thing—you don’t try,” I said, crossing my arms. “You’ve been coasting your entire life on your pretty-boy face and abs. And since when do you care about this, anyway? Girls keep coming back, don’t they?”

“They did,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “But word gets around. I think my, uh, reputation is starting to take a hit.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “So now you’re coming to me—your scrawny, five-foot-five, not-half-as-handsome best friend—for help. And instead of, I don’t know, asking for tips, your genius idea is... possession?”

“Look, it’s not just possession.” He reached into his bag and pulled out an old, weathered book. The pages were yellowed, the cover cracked with age. “It’s this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you steal that from a museum?”

“No! I bought it online.”

“Oh, even better. Definitely trustworthy.”

“Shut up,” he said, flipping through the pages. “It’s legit, okay? Some ancient Mayan thing. Says here it was used by their priests to channel the spirits of gods or ancestors. It’s voluntary—you have to, like, open yourself up or whatever.”

“And you thought, ‘Hey, instead of channeling an ancient god, why not summon my weird little best friend to make me better at sex?’” I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop grinning. “You’re unbelievable.”

He grinned back. “What can I say? I’m a problem solver.”

“This is so stupid,” I said, but I found myself leaning forward, squinting at the text on the page. “And how exactly is this supposed to work?”

Cal’s eyes lit up. “I knew you’d say yes.”

“I haven’t said yes,” I corrected. “Yet. But go on—what’s the plan?”

Cal pointed at the book, his finger tracing over a block of text surrounded by faded, intricate illustrations. “From what I can figure out, it’s all about intention,” he said. “The person being possessed—that’s me—has to want to improve something. And the possessor—you—has to, you know, want to help.”

“Right,” I said, dragging out the word. “So this spell is just gonna... summon me? Whenever it decides you need a little extra help in the bedroom?”

“Pretty much.” He grinned.

“And then what? I just get booted out of your body after you’ve—sorry, I’ve—sealed the deal?”

“Exactly,” he said, clapping his hands once, like it was the most straightforward plan in the world. “As I get better, you’ll get summoned less and less, until eventually I won’t need you at all.”

I stared at him, trying to process the sheer absurdity of it. “So you’re telling me that some ancient Mayan priests came up with this whole spell—probably to commune with gods or ancestors—and you’re using it for... sex coaching?”

He shrugged. “Hey, it’s a tool. I’m using it for what I need.”

“This is insane.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Wild. Weird. Completely ridiculous.”

“But you’re gonna do it.” He was practically bouncing on the couch now, his excitement as contagious as it was baffling.

I sighed, crossing my arms. “I’m gonna regret this, but... fine. Let’s do it.”

“Yes!” Cal practically leapt to his feet, grabbing the book and flipping to the spell. “Okay, okay. Sit still. Don’t interrupt.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He cleared his throat, his face suddenly serious as he began reciting the words. It wasn’t English—or Spanish, or any language I could recognize. The syllables rolled off his tongue in a deep, rhythmic chant, filling the room with a strange, heavy energy.

When he finished, we both sat there in silence, waiting.

Nothing happened.

“Did it work?” I asked, after a long beat.

Cal frowned, looking down at his hands like he expected to see some kind of glowing aura. “I don’t know. I feel the same.”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe it takes time. Or maybe you just bought a really expensive paperweight.”

He scowled, tossing the book onto the coffee table. “It’s legit. You’ll see.”

“Sure, buddy.” I stood up, stretching. “Well, keep me posted if I suddenly pop into your body. Until then, I’m grabbing a beer.”

“Go ahead and laugh,” he called after me as I walked to the kitchen. “You’ll believe me soon enough.”

As I pulled a cold one from the fridge, I shook my head, grinning despite myself. Cal had always been full of wild ideas, but this? This took the cake.

---

It happened a few days later.

Cal was out at this trendy bar downtown, the kind of place where everything looked expensive even though the drinks were just watered-down vodka with fancy names. He’d texted me earlier about some “hot brunette” he’d spotted across the room, and I could practically hear his grin through the phone.

I didn’t think much of it until I felt it—a sudden, almost magnetic pull. My vision blurred, and for a moment, it felt like I was falling, weightless, through space. When my eyes refocused, I wasn’t in my dingy apartment anymore. I was at the bar.

And I wasn’t me.

I was Cal.

“What the—” I started, but my voice came out deeper, smoother. Cal’s voice.

“Oh, hey! It worked!” His voice echoed in my head, excited and smug. “Told you it was legit!”

I blinked, looking around. The bar was packed, dimly lit, and alive with the sound of clinking glasses and laughter. I caught my reflection in the mirror behind the bar—a chiseled jawline, piercing blue eyes, the kind of good looks that could sell cologne in a magazine ad.

“What the hell, Cal?” I thought, feeling a mix of amazement and panic. “You didn’t think to give me a heads-up?”

“Didn’t know when it would summon you! I don’t control it myself, remember?” he said, sounding annoyingly pleased with himself. “But hey, you’re welcome. She’s right over there, by the way. Don’t screw this up.”

“Gee, thanks for the confidence,” I shot back.

I turned my head and saw her—a stunning brunette in a red dress, leaning casually against the bar. She smiled at me, and I swear it was the kind of smile that could melt steel. My legs moved on their own./ Before I knew it, I was standing next to her, flashing his signature grin.

“Hey,” I said, feeling the smoothness in Cal’s voice as if it had been tailored for moments like this. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. “That depends. What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” I said, leaning against the bar. “I just saw you and thought, ‘Wow, the night just got a whole lot better.’”

The conversation flowed easily after that, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how effortless everything felt. Cal’s body did half the work for me—his height, his confident posture, even the way his voice carried over the music.

Before I knew it, we were back at his place. That’s when I felt it—the constant, distracting presence of Cal’s voice in my head.

“Dude, you’re killing it,” he said. “She’s totally into you—”

“Cal, I’m gonna need you to not talk right now,” I interrupted.

“What? Why not? I’m just trying to help.”

“Because it’s weird. Like, next-level weird. So let’s see if I can mute you for a bit… Oh yeah, that’s it. Don’t take it personally.”

“Wait, you can—” His voice cut off mid-sentence as I silenced his consciousness. The quiet was instant, like flipping a switch.

I stood there for a moment, taking it all in. His body felt incredible—like a high-performance machine finely tuned for moments like this. I glanced at the brunette, who was looking up at me with this mixture of excitement and curiosity. And wow... I mean, wow.

So this is what it feels like to look down at someone, to tower over them. It wasn’t just the height—it was the power, the sense of being able to protect someone. I felt... strong. Confident. Invincible.

And these muscles? Holy hell. Every movement felt effortless, powerful, like I could bench press a truck without breaking a sweat.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice soft but teasing.

“Perfect,” I said, flashing Cal’s grin. “Absolutely perfect.”

I won’t bore you with the details of what happened next, but let’s just say I got the job done. Better than done, honestly. Here, see for yourself.

When it was over, she was smiling like she’d just found religion, and I was left sitting there, marveling at what had just happened.

Not just the act itself, but the feeling of being Cal—strong, tall, and undeniably desirable. For the first time in my life, I understood what it was like to walk through the world like that.

That’s when it happened.

A sudden jolt—like static electricity but coursing through every nerve in my body. The room around me blurred, the brunette’s satisfied smile dissolving like smoke. I felt myself being yanked out of Cal’s body, like a hook catching me by the ribs and pulling me backward through a tunnel of light.

The next thing I knew, I was back in my apartment, sprawled on the couch. My own body felt... smaller, weaker, like I was wearing a jacket two sizes too small.

I sat up, my head spinning. “Well, that was abrupt.”

My phone buzzed on the coffee table. I grabbed it, seeing a text from Cal.

CAL: DUDE. THAT FELT SO WEIRD.

ME: NO KIDDING.

CAL: Well thanks for the help man, I appreciate it.

ME: Yeah, no problem dude. I had actually had a great time. Thanks for badgering me into doing it.

I set the phone down, leaning back with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. This was going to be one hell of a ride.

337 notes · View notes

nerdy-novelist017 · 5 months ago

Note

Benny x bunny, where she faints and she gets taken to the hospital but he wasn't around when she fainted, so once he gets to the hospital and asks what happened she completely downplays it. Also if you could write him getting the call it would be 10/10.

You guys are so self-indulgent and I love it! This was really fun to write so I hope you enjoy! Benny's really just a stressed little muffin in this

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2k

Summary- See request above.

Bruised Ego (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The cue ball struck against the green stripes, a significant clack echoing in the clubhouse as he sunk the last ball into the pocket. With a smirk around his cigarette, Benny straightened to his full height, hands sliding down the cue stick smugly.

“That’s two games in a row, kid,” Wahoo groaned as he rounded the pool table to throw another five dollar bill into Benny’s winnings. “You must be lucky.”

“We can see if my luck will make it to an even 3,” Benny chided. He knew it wasn’t luck, Wahoo just sucked at playing pool. The slow afternoon was passed by the few integral members of the Vandals hanging out in the clubhouse, drinking, smoking and razzing each other. There was going to be a race tonight at the club bonfire; some newcomer kid on a piece of shit hand-built bike thought he was going to take on Cal’s racing Harley. Everyone knew he was going to blow him away, but it was still free entertainment and a chance for the club to meet again.

“Yeah fine, but I want the stripes this time.” Wahoo grumbled.

“You know what the definition of insanity is, Wahoo?” Johnny asked over his shoulder. He sat at the bar, counting a few stacks of cash as he and Brucie worked on the finances of this month's dues.

“Well, your boy keeps doin’ all these trick shots,” Wahoo retorted as he began to rack for the new game.

“Of course he is,” Johnny looked over his shoulder, smirking. “I taught ‘em how.”

Johnny turned back to his task at hand before he could see the bird Wahoo flipped him. The phone rang from the back of the bar and Cal went to answer it.

“I’m feeling pretty lucky for this game too,” Benny laughed as he bent forward to position the first shot. Clack, another shot that sent multiple solid colors spiraling around the table.

“Benny,” Cal called, holding the phone up. “It’s for you.”

“Okay,” Benny nodded, chalking the end of his cue stick. It was probably you calling to tell him you missed him. You often called him at least once if he was gone for a few hours, your way of checking on him as you worried about him. He’s tried telling you multiple times that you don’t have to worry about him, he’d be more careful because he had you to come home to every night. You promised you'd stop calling so much but he told you he didn't mind hearing your voice so sometimes, you’d call and ask him to pick up something from the store, too. “Tell her I'll be over in a minute.”

“No,” Cal said slowly, voice tight. “It’s Kathy. She said somethin’s happened to Bunny.”

Benny’s heart stopped. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital–”

Johnny turned to Cal and said something – asked a question maybe – but that was all Benny needed to hear before he tossed the cue stick onto the table and turned for the door. He shoved it open and fished his bike keys out of his pocket as he tossed the rest of his cigarette onto the sidewalk. He set off for his bike, throwing his leg over the seat and flipping the ignition switch.

He brought his foot down onto the kickstart but it only sputtered. He tried it once more. Twice. And Benny felt tears of frustration burning in his eyes as he pictured you laying lifeless in one of those awful hospital beds, every worst case scenario running through his mind. He kicked it again. “Fucking, c’mon!”

“Benny,” Johnny’s calm but assertive voice cut through the ringing in Benny’s ears. “I’ll drive. Get in.”

He nodded, wanting to say thanks, but he found his mouth too dry to speak, jaw clenched too tightly. He followed Johnny to his car, quickly sliding into the passenger seat. Johnny twisted the key in the ignition, threw it into reverse and peeled out as he drove in the direction of the hospital.

“Kathy said she’s okay,” Johnny assured, his voice composed as Benny’s knee bounced up and down with anxiety. “Said she was up and talkin’ to the doctors.”

“I can’t – I can’t lose–” Benny started but his voice broke and he squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of something happening to you.

“She’s okay, Benny,” Johnny repeated, firmer this time. “She’s okay.”

******

Benny practically ran through the hospital waiting room to get to the front desk, skidding to a stop and asking the nearest nurse where you were. Johnny had dropped him off at the door, saying he would find a place to park and be in as soon as he could.

“Benny!” Kathy called out for him down the hall. He abandoned the nurse’s station and approached her.

“What happened? Where is she?” he asked, swallowing hard in an attempt to control his nerves.

“I’ll take you to her,” Kathy touched his arm gently and led him down the hallway of ER rooms. “We were outside workin’ in my garden, ya know? A–and she just fell over, like completely onto her face, didn’t even try to catch herself. She hit her head pretty good when she landed so they’re runnin’ some test.”

Benny nodded, trying to process her words in his jumbled brain. She stopped in front of a room and motioned for him to enter. He took a deep breath, hoping his shaking hands weren’t noticeable and pushed the door open.

And the sight of you nearly crushed his heart. You looked so small sitting on the hospital bed, legs dangling off the side, hand pressing a blue ice pack to the side of your face. When you looked up and noticed him, you sat up straighter and squeaked out, “Benny!”

He was at your side in an instant, hands carefully roaming in an attempt to find anything physically wrong with you besides the obvious head wound. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” you said, taking his hand in your unoccupied one and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s nothing, Benny.”

“It wasn’t nothin’,” Kathy spoke up from the doorway, nervously glancing between you two. “You were out for a good couple minutes. Scared the livin’ shit outta me. ”

You shook your head, shooting her an exasperated look around Benny’s shoulder. “I told you not to call him.”

“Bullshit,” Benny interjected. “You get taken to the hospital and you think I shouldn’t know ‘bout it?”

“I’m fine, really,” you said with a sigh and you looked so . . . tired. Benny wanted to scoop you up in his arms and take you home in that instant. “The doctor said I just got overheated. You know how hot it’s been.”

Benny’s hand gently encased yours holding the ice pack, pulling it away so he could inspect the damage. He grimaced at the sight of the nasty purple and red bruise forming around your right brow bone and down to your eye socket. Despite his best efforts, his hands still shook as he pulled away. He’d seen his fair share of bruising – most of the time it was from his own reflection in the mirror after a fight. But the sight of the injury coloring your beautiful skin. . . it made his stomach flip. You were so frail, so breakable and the realization squeezed at Benny’s heart. He was supposed to protect you and if he could, he’d shrink you down and put you in his pocket, safe and secure. He looked over his shoulder to Kathy, “Would you. . . would you let Johnny know what’s goin’ on?”

“Sure thing,” she answered and disappeared out the door.

Silence fell heavy between you and Benny desperately searched for something to say to make you smile again, to make you blush . . . but his heart still pounded too hard and his stomach still churned from the uncertainty to come up with anything. So he did the only thing he could in that moment; He pulled you into a tight hug, hand cradling the back of your neck as he fought back that awful sting of tears again.

“I’m okay, Benny.” Your voice was muffled against his chest. “I promise.”

“You can’t–” his voice broke and he had to swallow thickly before continuing. “You can’t scare me like that, Bunny.”

“I didn’t mean to–”

“I just– I just love you so much,” he breathed out as he pulled you impossibly closer.

“I know you do,” you whispered gently and he couldn’t understand how you were always so strong, so resilient. “I love you too, Benny.”

You gave him a moment to compose himself, to slow his erratic heartbeat and melt into your sweet touch before you pulled back, lowering the ice pack and said, “There is something that will make me feel better.”

“What’s that?” he asked, heart softening at your brazen smile.

“A kiss.”

“Is that so?” His gaze fluttered over your angelic face, still beautiful despite the bruise.

“Mhhm, it’s what the doctor ordered, actually.” Your grin grew wider as he put both hands on the sides of your face, thumbs sliding gently along your jaw. He kissed you softly, lips barely ghosting over yours in fear of hurting you as if you would crumble beneath his touch. That wasn’t good enough for you apparently as you leaned forward to chase him before he could pull away completely. Your hands came up to hold his in place over your face and you returned his kiss with such vehemence that Benny’s brows pinched together in enthrallment.

The distinct clearing of a throat broke you both apart and Benny caught sight of the doctor standing in the doorway, hand rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. You blushed and looked away as the doctor entered, apologizing for the intrusion.

“We got the test results back,” he said and Benny straightened, feeling his heart rate pick up again. “Bad news is we figure you passed out due to heatstroke. With this severe heat wave hitting Chicago, we’ve had multiple patients come in from it so don’t feel bad. Good news is you were able to get here quick enough that we could get your core temperature brought down before any damage was done. As far as your head, you don’t appear to have a concussion, but you will have a pretty nasty bruise for a while.”

“So . . . she’s okay?” Benny asked, hand finding the top of your thigh to ground him.

The doctor nodded. “Yeah she’ll be just fine as long as she takes it easy for the rest of the day. No more gardening in this weather, okay?”

You giggled abashedly at his joke and Benny breathed a sigh of relief.

The doctor continued, “I’ll have the nurse bring around another ice pack for you to take home before we start your paperwork to leave.”

Benny held your hand as he stood beside your bed faithfully while they worked on getting you discharged of the hospital. You were okay, he repeated in his head like a chant. You were okay and that made him okay.

“You know since I'm gettin' out of here early we’ll still be able to go to the race tonight,” you pointed out with a small smile as you nudged him with your foot to get his attention.

“No, I’m taking you home where you’re going to lay your pretty little butt down in bed for the rest of the day,” he said firmly with a shake of his head.

“I don’t want you to miss Cal’s race!” you said as you tugged on his hand gently, lip pouting.

“I don’t care about the race,” he replied flippantly.

“Well, I do! Plus I want to see the girls, too. C’mon, please Benny?”

He shook his head, trying to remain firm in his decision even as you gave him your irresistible puppy eyes.

“Please Bennyyyy?” you dragged out his name in that adorable way you did when you wanted something. “I’ll sit in the shade and I’ll let you know if I’m not feeling good, I promise.”

He contemplated it. The race wasn't until later in the evening and the temperature should be cooler, but still. . . “You’ll go home and lay in bed until then?”

You nodded, holding your pinky out to him in a silent promise.

Unable to deny you of anything, he reluctantly looped his pinky with yours. “Fine, but we’re only stayin’ for the race. No bonfire afterwards.”

You beamed at him and he knew you were proud of yourself for once again swaying him with your charms.

******

Hours later, as the picnic was just getting into full swing, Johnny couldn’t hide the smile on his face as Benny pulled up with you on the back of his bike. Though surprised, he was sure you had roped the kid into coming, you seemed to be able to get away with just about anything when it came to Benny. He shook his head, as he watched Benny help you off and the two of you approached his picnic table filled with the core members of the Vandals, noting how he seemed to hold you a little tighter as if you were bound to trip and fall.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be takin’ it easy?” he badgered as he stood to give you a hug.

“And miss out on a race?” you grinned as you gave him a quick hug before looping your arm back through Benny's. “Never.”

“Well, it’s good to see you’re feelin’ better, kid,” he said honestly.

Funny Sonny caught sight of the reunion and hollered as he approached. “Hey Bunny, I’d hate to see the other guy!”

You blushed as you remembered the bruise forming on your face and before you could say anything, Benny spoke up from beside you. “Yeah, she got ‘em good with her mean right hook.”

You grinned at him as Sonny laughed. “Hell yeah! Bunny’s a fighter now, boys!”

They cheered and you rolled your eyes playful as you leaned up on your tippy-toes to plant a kiss on Benny’s cheek.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @eugene-emt-roe @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @charmingballoon @sunnbib @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @dudii4love @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @butler-trouble @autumnleaves1991-blog @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters

#the taglist is getting so long omg #might have to switch to post notifications instead #angst with a happy ending #benny x bunny #benny cross #austin butler #the bikeriders #austin butler x reader #benny cross x reader #benny x reader #imagine #fluff #johnny davis #tom hardy #jodie comer #motorcycle #austin butler fandom #the bikeriders fanfiction #fanfic

782 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 7 days ago

Text

Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is all on his own for Christmas and you both know why

Masterlist

Peter pulled out his chair and took a seat at his empty table.

In another life, you occupied the seat beside him and ate together while you chatted about your days or sat in comfortable silence.

Now, Peter came home to the same cold, empty apartment every day. The sound of your laughter or the smell of your cooking haunted the place and lingered to constantly reminder of what Peter let get away.

Peter pushed around his dinner with his fork. It had been a while since any reached his lips. He was busy thinking about the nights when you’d fallen asleep while you waiting for him to come home from patrol. You’d always leave his dinner in the microwave with a love note taped to the utensils you left out for him. There were no notes to greet him anymore and he was feeling especially sorry for himself about their absence that night. To interrupt Peter’s pity party came a phone call that he answered without looking at his phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey.” Came a downcast female voice from the other side.

For a moment, the term of endearment made him grow hopeful that it was you who had called. He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the caller ID, making the hope leave as quickly as it came.

“Hi, May.” He sighed. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” She laughed in surprise. “You tell me. I feel like I haven’t spoken to you since there were still leaves on the trees.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I kept meaning to call.” Peter mumbled and looked out his window at the falling snow. It had been a minute since he picked up the phone.

“It’s all right. I’m just glad to get a hold of you now. How have you been?” May asked him.

Peter looked at the empty chair beside him again and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fine.” He said after a minute. May was quiet for a minute and he could feel her dejection through the phone.

“I have to say, Peter, I’m a little disappointed that I haven’t heard from you in so long.” May admitted. “I finally got you on the phone and all you can tell me is you’re “fine”? Can I get anymore? What’s new in your life? What have you been up to?”

“I’m busy, May. I told you, I meant to call. But I have a lot on my plate right now. This is a really dangerous time of year.” Peter replied as he rubbed his tired eyes. He felt guilty for how little he reached out but that was currently buried under the anger he felt for her pointing it out.

“I know, I know.” She said quietly. “It gets really busy at the center around the holidays. But it only takes a few seconds to send a text.”

Peter could hear the sadness in her voice and let out a sigh. He let go of his anger for once and nodded his head.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve checked in more.” He mumbled as his eyes drifted to the empty chair beside him again. Your ghost materialized in front of him as his mind went back to December of last year.

last Christmas

“You should really call her.” You said when you saw Peter decline another phone call from May.

“I said I’d do it later tonight.” Peter grumbled before taking two bites out of the dinner you left out for him. You made a choice not to comment on his sharp tone because you could tell he was already upset over something.

“I know. But you said that the past two nights and you still haven’t done it. I stopped by the community center before to check in on her and she seemed really overwhelmed. I think a call from you would really cheer her up.” You said in a calm voice. Peter stopped eating and looked at you with annoyance.

“You stopped by the center? Why?”

“To eat with her. We usually take our lunch breaks at the same time so I-“

“I don’t need you to babysit my aunt, okay” He cut you off. “That just makes me look worse for not calling her.”

“Then call her.” You stayed calm even though his tone was hurting your feelings.

“I don’t need you to tell me when to call her. Why are you always on me about this?” He snapped and walked away from you.

“Because, Peter. You know how hard the holidays are for her without Ben and your dad. You are the only family she has right now. If you keep putting off calling her, your relationship isn’t going to last. And you aren’t really in a position to be losing family.” You said as you followed him. Peter stopped in his tracks and turned to looked at you.

“Are you seriously trying to guilt me into calling May by reminding me my parents are dead?” He asked you with hardened eyes that told you he was not about to listen to anything you were about to say.

“That’s not what I’m doing, Peter.” You sighed. “I’m just saying that you and her are each others only family and it’s important to keep your bond now that you’ve moved out.”

“I’ll call her when I want to call her, okay? The two of you are being so annoying about a damn phone call. You’re not my mother and neither is she so the both of you need to get off my back. Just stop being a bitch about it and…” Peter trailed off when he realized he’d gone too far and the look on your face told him exactly how the rest of the conversation was going to play out.

“Nice.” You smiled tightly and walked away. Peter followed after you as guilt for the entire conversation settled in.

“Where are you going?” He asked as you put your jacket on.

“I’m leaving.” You said without looking at him.

“To go where? It’s already dark outside. And you haven’t eaten yet.” He tried to reason with you as he followed you towards the door.

“I’m gonna eat with May. She usually always sets out an extra plate anyway.” You mumbled and grabbed your purse. Peter panicked and stepped in front of the door. He was worried that if you left right now, you’d never come back.

“Wait, honey, please. I’m sorry. I should never have used that word. Can we just talk?” He pleaded. You started into his eyes for a minute before shaking your head.

“I can’t talk to you.” You said as your eyes dropped to the floor.

“What do you mean?” He asked nervously.

“Because I don’t think you want to hear what I want to say. And that’s why you keep avoiding me.” You replied and looked him in the eyes. Peter felt his face grow hot. He didn’t realize you had noticed that. For the past month, he’d leave early in the morning to go to work and stay out all night on patrol. You only saw him when he stopped home to eat and even then, you barely got a word out of him.

“Well. I’m listening now. What do you have to say?” He asked, practically daring you to do it. He watched your eyes brim with tears as you gave him a shrug.

“That I want to breakup.” You said, taking all the air out of room.

“There you go.” He smiled sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

“It was, actually. It was really hard to watch you change into this person. This person who calls me a bitch and ignores calls from the woman who practically raised him. And it really sucks that this is the way things ended because I liked you so much in the beginning. For the first three months, I was the happiest I’d been in my life. But everything is different now. I really thought I saw a future with you but if this is how it’s going to be then I’m out.”

“Baby, come on.” Peter whispered pleadingly. “Out? I had one rough week.”

“It’s been more than this week, Peter. You’ve been shutting me out all month. You’re never around anymore and when you are, it’s like I can feel in the air how annoying you find me. I feel like I’m going to get in trouble every time I speak. And it’s not just me. Your aunt-“

“Wait, you told May about this? We have one problem and you run and tell on me to my aunt?” Peters eyes narrowed as his remorse hardened into anger.

“I didn’t tell on you.” You said pointedly. “I just talked to her because I didn’t know what was going on with you and I figured she could help.”

“Well, what did she say?” He asked with his attitude in full effect once again. You stopped being angry for a moment and reached out to touch his face. Peter wanted to lean into your hand but he restrained himself.

“She said December is a really hard month for you.” You said quietly. Peters eyes welled up with hot tears and he looked away from you so that you wouldn’t see him crying.

“If you ever wanted to talk about your parents-“

“I don’t.” He cut you off. “Not with you. You don’t understand.”

“Peter-“ You began and tried to hug him. He stepped out of your arms and took a step back from you.

“No. If you want to break up, then let’s break up. It’s not like we were in love or anything.” He snapped, making your arms slowly drop to your side. In the four months you’d been dating, you hadn’t said it yet. But you felt it. You both felt it.

“Is that how you feel?” You asked him. Peter didn’t look at you but nodded his head.

“All right. Then I guess we agree. We’re broken up.” You said in a weak voice as you folded your arms. Peter said nothing and kept his eyes on the floor. You passed by him suddenly and went into a cabinet above the microwave that he couldn’t reach so he never used. Peter watched you curiously as you pulled out a small wrapped gift and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

“Your gift. Merry Christmas, Peter.” You smiled quickly and went for the door again. An immense feeling of regret hit Peter at once and he gently took your arm. You looked him in the eyes and an apology almost escaped his lips but died in his throat.

“Merry Christmas.” Was all he could say.

“I’ll be at Mays. Don’t worry. I won’t tell her what you told me. You don’t need her to bitch at you too.” You said as you opened the door. You were about to walk out of it when you stopped and looked at him.

“Peter?”

“Yes?” He asked with hope that you’d run back into his arms and let him make things right.

“Please, don’t call.” You requested before walking out of his life.

“Peter? Are you there?” May asked on the phone, brining him back to present day. He wiped the tears that had fallen down his face and nodded his head.

“I’m still here, sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.” He said in a quiet voice.

“It’s all right.” She said sympathetically. “Listen Peter, I really have to get back to the center. Please call me more often. I miss you. And I’m always, always here for you, okay?”

“I miss you too, May. I’m sorry again. I love you.”

“I love you too, Peter. Goodnight.” She replied before hanging up. Peter was alone once again but this time, with a plan.

The next day, Peter walked into the Community Center where May worked with the intention of surprising her. He greeted a few faces he recognized before walking to Mays office.

“May? You in here?” Peter asked as he pushed open her door.

“Peter?” You asked, making him freeze at the sound of your voice. Your eyes met after a nearly a year of no contact. You were sitting at Mays desk with a laptop but quickly shut it and stood up. Time was strangely calm as you moved towards Peter. To his surprise, you pulled him into a hug.

“It’s good to see you.” You said as you rubbed small circles onto his back. Peter came unstuck finally and wrapped his arms around you. He really needed that hug. You laughed a little in surprise over how tightly he hugged you before pulling out of the hug.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as he stared your face in disbelief.

“Oh, um. I work here.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’ve been here about a year now. Did May not tell you that?”

“No. She didn’t mention it. But we don’t, uh, we don’t really talk much.” He admitted.

“Right. I remember.” You smiled tightly. “Well, she’s out right now helping to deliver some groceries. She should be back within the hour. Do you want to wait for her?”

“Yeah. I guess so. Where can I stay so I’m out of the way?” Peter asked and looked around. He felt embarrassed for how little he knew about the place his aunt put so much work into.

“I was actually about to go on my lunch break. You could hang in here if you want.” You told him as you got your food out of the refrigerator. You could feel his eyes on you and that he had something he wanted to say. He looked very timid and you had a feeling he was having trouble getting his words together.

“Can I…can I go with you?” He asked in a quiet voice. You smiled softly and nodded your head.

“Come on. Follow me.” You beckoned him with your finger and he quickly followed you. You brought him to the employee cafeteria and found a quiet corner all to yourselves. Peter watched in curious silence as you unpacked a lunch similar to the ones you used to make him.

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked and held out half of your sandwich. Peter shook his head but didn’t take the sandwich.

“I’m all right. You eat.” He replied. You shrugged and started to eat your lunch. Peter had a million things he wanted to say to you but no idea where to begin. You could tell he wanted to talk but you decided it wasn’t your job to lead him there. If he had something to say, he needed to say it.

“You, um, you look great by the way. I like the shorter hair. It’s very pretty.” Peter said without making eye contact. You smiled sadly at how shy he sounded and put your food down.

“Thank you. It’s easier to manage this way.” You said as you smoothed down your hair. “I’d return the compliment but you look like you haven’t slept since the last time I saw you.”

“I don’t think I have.” He laughed sadly and rubbed his eyes.

You sat in an awkward silence for a moment as neither of you knew where to take the conversation next. Peter was looking around the room until his eyes landed on you. They looked so remorseful and tired that you almost pulled him into another hug.

“So, what are you doing for the holidays?” You asked to break the silence.

“I’ll probably just stay home and keep my radio on. It’s a pretty busy night for crime.”

“I’ve heard. Lots of break ins. Usually at houses where a child has been left home alone.” You replied, making Peter crack the tiniest smile.

“Exactly. There’s these two guys I really need to keep an eye out for. They break into peoples houses and turn all the faucets on.” He played along.

“Oh no.” You clicked your tongue. “That sounds pretty serious.”

“It is. So I’ll be super busy that night.” He nodded. You both laughed lightly but still felt a little uneasy being around each other.

“So I take it you’re not gonna spend Christmas with May?” You asked in a more serious voice. Peter gave you a sad smile and shook his head.

“No. I don’t think so. I think I’m on my own this year.”

“Peter, you know she’d love to have you. No matter what your relationship looks like right now.” You assured him.

“I know. And that’s the toughest part. Knowing she’d welcome me with open arms despite how awful I’ve been to her. I live ten blocks away yet I can’t be bothered to see her more than a few times a year. She’s too forgiving. I don’t deserve it. Not right now, at least.”

He was talking about May, but what he said could also be applied to his relationship with you. The toughest part of sitting there and catching up was both of you knowing exactly why you weren’t celebrating one year of dating right now and getting ready for a second Christmas together.

You didn’t know what to say so you turned your face and pretended to look at a nearby calendar. He wasn’t exactly deserving of your forgiveness either, something you both knew as well. And yet, you were aching to give it to him.

“It’s okay.” He said to break the silence. “I think a Christmas on my own will serve me some good. I never liked the holidays anyway.”

“Right. I remember you being a bit of a Grinch. You never wanted to window shop or walk around to look at the lights. I never understood why.” You laughed softly. Peters eyes quickly found the ground and he felt them well up with tears.

“I’m, um, I’m really sorry. About last year, I mean.” He said in the smallest voice you’d ever heard from him.

“Peter, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to bring it up. We don’t have to talk about that.” You waved your hand.

“It’s not fine. I wish I explained myself better when I had the chance. You were so excited about spending Christmas together. I left our relationship on the line because I didn’t know how to communicate.”

“Well, I’m here now.” You said and put your hand over his. “What did you want to explain?”

Peter froze at the contact and slowly looked into your eyes. You gave him a sad smile and rubbed his hand with your thumb to let him know it was okay.

“When you ended things that day,” he began, “it came as such a surprise that I got mean and defensive instead of listening to you. I have spent every day since wishing I just shut up and heard you out instead of agreeing that we should break up. I wish I fought harder to save us.”

“I appreciate you saying that, Peter. I do. But I don’t really see how it was a surprise that I ended things. I mean, no offense, but don’t act like you were kind. We were practically living together yet barely speaking. Towards the end, I felt like I was just haunting your apartment and you were trying to sage the place to get rid of me.”

“I know. I know I really messed up. And I’m sorry it took you breaking up with me to realize how shitty I was to you. I don’t blame you for leaving. I just don’t know how you ever stayed.”

“Well, it wasn’t bad the whole time.” You told him. “The first three months were amazing. At your best, you were magic. I was completely enamored with you. That’s why I stayed. But then, I don’t know. Things were different. You changed so quickly. I went from falling in love to feeling like I was slowly dying in your apartment while I waited for you to come home from patrol each night.”

“That sounds miserable. Jesus. Why didn’t you break up with me sooner?” Peter wondered.

“Because I knew that wasn’t you.” You told him. “I could tell you were going through something. I just didn’t know what it was. And the hope that things would return to how they used to be kept me around.”

“And they never did. Instead, I called you a bitch and drove you to leave.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. As he did this, he fully registered what you had said. You had just told him you were falling in love. The tips of his ears became hot and he rubbed his eyes quickly so you wouldn’t see that he was emotional.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. For everything I did and didn’t do. I would change so many things if I could go back.” Peter said as he stared blankly ahead. You gave his hand a gently squeeze, making him look at you.

“I know it’s none of my business anymore. But we’re here and I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to ask you again. Why do you hate December so much? What made you so angry that month?” You asked him. You could feel Peter tense up and he immediately stopped making eye contact with you. Instead, he stared at a Christmas tree in the corner of the room and let his eyes glaze over.

“It’s just…it’s a really hard month for me. I know that this is supposed to be the happiest time of the year but all it does is remind me of what I lost. I can’t see poinsettias without thinking of my mom. I can’t go into stores without thinking of my dad taking me to every jewelry store in New York to find a necklace that May would like. And every bakery I walk past makes me think of my uncle. All December does is remind me that everyone is gone now. I get so depressed that I push away the people I have left until it’s just me and my anger. I did it to you last year because I convinced myself that I was going to lose you anyway and now I’m doing it to May. And I don’t know how to stop.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a long time after that. Your lunch break had ended five minutes ago but you weren’t going anywhere. You looked each other in the eyes after a beat of silence and you reached forward to wipe tears from Peter’s face. His bottom lip started to tremble so you pulled him into a hug. You stayed like that in the calm silence of the room and just held each other.

“Well now I feel really bad for calling you a “grinch” a few minutes ago.” You said quietly. To your surprise, you felt Peter laugh as he pulled out of the hug.

“It’s okay. I am one. I literally punched a snowman yesterday on the sidewalk because it-“

Peter’s sentence was cut short by your lips meeting his. Once his initial shock wore off, he melted into you and kissed you back. He cupped your face with his cold hands and pulled you closer to him to make yo for lost time. You kissed him until you both couldn’t breathe and had to pull away.

“I think I just felt my heart grow three sizes.” Peter said breathlessly.

“Shut up.” You laughed. “I really need to get back to work now. Do you still live near that bodega with the good muffins?”

“I do. I ate a bran one this morning.” He told you.

“Okay, well that’s disgusting.” You grimaced. “But can I come over later so we can really talk?”

“I would love that.” Peter smiled and nodded his head.

“So would I. Come on. Walk me back to the office.” You said as you stood up and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took it and followed you back to the office. When you walked in, May was waiting for you.

“Oh. Peter!” She exclaimed and pulled him into a hug. “What a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, May.” Peter said sheepishly. You watched them as the hug lingered as both of them desperately needed it.

“So, May, Peter was just telling me he didn’t have any Christmas plans.” You interjected.

“Well you’ll have to come over then.” May insisted. “It was just going to be me and Happy and you know I always make too much food. We’d love to have you.”

“Are you sure?” Peter hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Impose? You could never. It would mean the world to me to have you there. We can finally catch up.”

“He’ll be there.” You answered for Peter, knowing he was reluctant to let himself be forgiven.

“I’ll be there.” He echoed and gave May a smile. May smiled back and pulled him into another hug.

Peter left the center with a very different feeling in his chest than the one he arrived with. He was starting to feel whole again after feeling fragmented for the better part of a year now. Snow fell on his head as he walked to his apartment and he found himself enjoying the feeling of it.

When your shift ended, you arrived at Peter’s apartment promptly at 6 o’clock. He helped you out of your jacket and brought you to his couch, where you spent the next two hours catching each other up on the past year. As you spoke, you looked around his apartment to see if anything was different. Your eyes immediately gravitated towards a little Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

Peter had only one ornament hanging on his tree. Right in the center was a heart made out of air dry clay. The words “I love you” were painted on it in bright white letters. It was your gift to him the year before and the only reason he put up a tree that year. Without one, he would have nowhere to display the reminder that at one point in his life, he did something right.

“You hung up my ornament.” You said as you turned to him with a smile.

“Of course I did. It’s the best gift I’d ever received.” He told you.

“That ugly little clay thing was the best gift you’ve ever received?” You laughed in disbelief.

“Not the ornament itself. You telling me you loved me.” He said in a soft voice. You smiled sadly and nodded your head. Things were so different now from when you first made that ornament. You had made it to tell him you loved him for the first time but it ended up being how you told him goodbye.

“I felt it too, by the way.” Peter continued. “I know I never said it. And I definitely didn’t show it towards the end. But I loved you too.”

You looked at the ornament one more time before turned to Peter and wrapping your arms around his neck, taking him by surprise. He hesitantly rested his forehead against yours to be closer.

“If you’re about to tell me you want to try again, I don’t deserve it. I made you miserable.” Peter said with eyes full of remorse.

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “But what if I wanted to try again anyway?”

“Why would you do that? Why would you forgive me?”

“I don’t know. Would “tis the season” be an acceptable answer?” You asked, making Peter laugh softly.

“No. It would not.”

“I know you think you don’t deserve to try again.” You said. “But I feel like I understand you so much better now. And I know you know better now than to shut me out. We’ve different people than we were a year ago. Why not give us another shot?”

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “What if I hurt you again?”

“I know it’s a lot. Why don’t you think about it tonight and when you figure it out, you can call me?” You asked him.

Peter met your eyes and nodded his head, satisfied with that compromise. You stroked his cheek with your thumb before getting up off the couch. You slipped your jacket back on while he thought about everything you had talked about that day. Just as you were about to walk out his doo, you stepped back in.

“Peter?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“Please, call me.” You asked him with sincerity. Peter smiled a little and nodded his head.

“I will.” He promised. You smiled in return and left his apartment.

You hadn’t made it to the lobby of his building before your phone rang in your pocket.

Tag List 🏷️ 🎄

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@officialsimppage @itsemohours

@tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade-blog @boogywoogywoogy

315 notes · View notes

superstarcherrycolagirl · 6 months ago

Text

taken care of

benny cross x fem!reader/ 1k words

idea: your leaving work, but you’re being bothered. luckily you have company

tw: harassment, swearing, threats

notes: ok so this has been an idea of mine for A WHILE so i tried writing it out. think of that scene from the bikeriders after benny ended up in the hospital after literally getting clocked and the whole squad pulled up to the bar after that, it’s basically that but way more chill!! that scene was so hot ngl so i wanted to write about it:)) here it is

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

being benny’s girl doesn’t only mean gaining the mutual respect of the club and its members, but shown the same amount of care and protection as the bikers themselves.

you were just trying to leave work and go home, the 9-5 work shift literally left you exhausted, but this college boy would not leave you alone!

“can i take you for a ride sweetheart? i can take you back to mine to really get to know you” his obnoxious masculinity oozing out of him. he waited for a whole hour your shift to end, literally eye-fucking you the entire time as he kept shifting in his pants. what an animal you thought, you wanted to yell at him and humiliate him in front of other library goers so he can learn some manners. but you kept calm, you didn’t need to be scared.

“oh no thank you i’m alright! my ride’s just outside” you declined politely, which took a lot of strength for you to.

you’re walking out the door, ponytail swaying back and forth. “aw c’mon lil lady don’t be so shy! i can show you a real good ti-“ the boy couldn’t even finish his stupid sentence before stopping abruptly. the loud roar of rumbling engines sounding filled up the silent library. you’ve never seen anyone get so pale in the face.

you walk outside the door, the boy to follow, to see the fear-striking pack of bikers waiting outside the library doors.. waiting for you. you could spot wahoo, corky, and cockroach near each other, snacking on some gum and cigarettes. funny sonny was saying some shit to zipco and cal, whatever it was made them all send death glares to the shaking boy right next to you. johnny and bruice were checking out this boy, wondering if he would even stand a punch if he tried to lay a hand on you. and benny, bike stand kicked up and leaning back with a cigarette in hand, looked up right at you with nothing but love in his eyes.. and the slightest want to kill this filthy pig beside you on site.

you walk down to the club calmly, your flowy white blouse moving against your deep blue jeans, smiling sweetly at your family as you walked up to benny to peak him on the mouth. that poor boy knew he was screwed just by witnessing how all the bikeriders demeanors shifted to your presence. he was on the verge of vomiting once they looked back at him.

as you were getting on benny’s bike you took a glance up at the terrified boy, wondering why the hell he was still here. you were gonna say something to him, until you were interrupted.

“you wanna ride pretty boy? s’that what you wanted to ask?” benny said in a cocky tone, but you could hear the faint growl rumbling in his chest.

“n-no sir.. i just wanted to talk to this nice lady over her-“ that’s when you popped in quickly, but it did much more damage.

“oh so that’s why you wanted to to jump my bones a’few moments ago hm? to say somethin’ nice t’me?” you said it in your sweet tone of voice, but the adrenaline rising inside of you drenched your words in sarcasm. that caught everyone’s attention so fast, and in an instant everything became so loud.

“s’that so pretty boy?” johnny chimed in first “well you might need some help from us.. to learn how to treat a lady with real manners” his knuckle punching rings tightening tightening into a fist. “we’ll take care of ya’”

“yeah i’ll take care a’him by knocking his fuckin’ teeth down his throat!” cal yelled out, you could steam a teapot on his head from how riled up he was, he almost jumped that poor boy if it weren’t for zipco holding him back by the arm.

funny sonny loudly sounded his engine to make this boy shriek, which led some others to join in with cackles. “c’mon pinko! show us what you got, don’t be shy!” zipco chirped with a guttural laugh, increasing the blush and sweat on the embarrassed college boys’ face. that boy looked so frightened that you though he was gonna cry. ashamed. humiliated.

you could feel benny’s muscles tensing up against your chest, how he was just moments away from seconding cals’ idea. but he stayed right where you were, right where he was needed to keep you safe. everyone was there to keep you safe.

“get the fuck outta here you scum-fuck!” “don’t shit yourself on the way out pretty face!” wahoo and corky vulgarly gleamed, and that left the boy with one more glance at you, trying to send you a smile. not before benny sounded his engine roughly, a back the fuck off kind of signal that almost knocked they boy off his feet. and with that he ran down the block and turned the corner, knowing you wouldn’t see his face again anytime soon.

as everyone was gearing up while laughing, benny softly spoke to you. “you alright baby?” “i’m alright benny..thank you honey” he didn’t even need to say anything, giving the side your right thigh a good squeeze before kicking up his stick. you smiled against his back, that’s gonna need a good wash.

“you’re okay sweetheart, we’ll take care of ya’” that was johnny’s voice that rang. you and benny turned to him, relieved looks on both of your faces. “i mean it doll, always” he was firm with his, and you could only smile back at him.

and with that, you and the dozens of bikes beside you took off down the road.

what a way to call it a day.

#EEEEEEEK #yappathon #i love being a freak #austin butler #austin butler x reader #benny cross #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders #the bikeriders x reader #tom hardy #johnny from the bikeriders

665 notes · View notes

dark-and-kawaii · 7 months ago

Text

ʚ♡ɞ New Life & Beginnings ʚ♡ɞ

- Rolan x F!Tav/Reader

- Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

- Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

✧˖°. Summary: Separate stories involving Rolan, Zevlor, and Raphael with their newborns.

✧˖°. Notes: I’m a sucker for these men being dads, and I just needed some softness… And a little angst for Zevlor

✦ Fluff | Prt 1. For Zevlor but not needed to read this | Hint of Angst For Zevlor & Rolan | Dadphael

Rolan

Rolan stood by the window, cradling a newborn in his arms. The child, swaddled in soft, faded blue linens, was a stark contrast to the crimson of Rolan's skin. His tail swayed gently back and forth in rhythm with the quiet hum he sang to soothe the infant.

It was a rare sight indeed. He never thought he’d hum to some infant, let alone his very own. But he figured this child, his child, deserved everything he never got to experience. His own childhood had been marked by absence, devoid of a loving mothers touch and a fathers protection…

Life had not always been kind to Rolan. As an orphaned tiefling with horns that curled back like the branches of a twisted tree and eyes the color of molten gold, he had wandered through his early years shrouded in solitude. No last name to claim, no family to return to after his day's adventures. That was until Cal and Lia found him.

Now, here he stands in a grand tower to call his own, his life transformed yet again. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of a new beginning. His gaze drifted towards the bundle of pillows on the floor where you, his beloved, rested deeply. The labor had been long and taxing, and Rolan despised the fact it happened here in the tower. Still though, a faint smile crossed his features as he whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

The infant, perhaps sensing the warmth of his father's gratitude, joined in on the thanks and cooed softly, a delicate sound that seemed to stitch the very air with joy and its very own magic. Rolan chuckled, a sound rich with love, and lowered his face to plant a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead.

But the tranquility of the moment was abruptly punctuated by a tiny sneeze from his little one. Reflexively, Rolan pulled back slightly, just in time to see a small flame burst forth from the baby’s nostrils... The flame caught the ends of Rolan’s hair, igniting them with a soft fizz.

Rolan's initial annoyance flickered across his face as quickly as the flame had caught his hair. He patted down the singed ends with a practiced hand, his expression melting into one of bewildered joy. The tiny sneeze had revealed something extraordinary about his child.

“By the stars,” Rolan murmured, his annoyance flickering away as quickly as it had ignited, replaced by a surge of excitement. “A sorcerer?… Or should I say, sorceress?” His voice was a mix of wonder and pride as he looked down at his daughter, whose big eyes blinked back at him, unaware of her fiery debut, “If you wish to master your skills you’ll need a good teacher. Thankfully you have everything you need- right here.”

Turning back towards the cozy corner where you slept, his tail continued swishing softly behind him. Carefully, almost tenderly, he nudged the sheet with the tip of his tail, pulling it up to tuck around you more securely. He then sat down beside you, his smile never wavering.

“I- I can't thank you enough,” Rolan reached for your hand, holding it gently between his, “Before you, my world was a tapestry with beautiful threads but no real picture.” he glanced down at yours and his daughter, “you've helped me start a family to call my own, besides Cal and Lia.”

His tail curled around, encircling both himself and his daughter as he continued to hold your hand.

Once an orphan, now a cherished father and partner. Rolan found himself at the center of his own growing family, with a sense of belonging he had never imagined possible.

Zevlor

His sleep was anything but peaceful… Zevlor tossed his head from side to side, his features twisting in torment. The sheets were crumpled beneath him, damp with sweat, as he muttered a sullen, “gods... no.” Each word was a whisper of despair, barely escaping his lips as the nightmare clenched its cold fingers around his mind.

In the throes of his dream, he found himself with blood stained hands as you lay lifeless in his arms. His hands tainted with your blood, his own sword impaled through your slightly distended abdomen… The nightmare depicted a grim scene where the influence of the Absolute had pushed him too far. By the time he realized his actions, it was tragically too late…

While holding your still form, Zevlor shut his eyes tightly, tear drops forming at their edges, desperately praying to any deity that might hear his cries, begging that this horror was not reality. Yet, upon reopening his eyes, the haunting image remained unchanged… There you were, still and devoid of life. His hand grazed your stomach, his head resting against yours, as he envisioned the life that might have been…

The tiefling bolted upright, shaken from the harrowing nightmare, his heartbeat pounding as the nightmarish visions clung to his mind. He extended his hand hesitantly, a wave of relief washing over him when he felt the comforting warmth of your sleeping figure beside him.

“It was only just a dream…” he whispered, though the words did little to calm his frayed nerves. Rolling onto his side, he pulled you close, his tail coiling around your leg to help keep you in place. He took a deep breath, inhaling your familiar scent as if to reassure himself of your presence. You stirred slightly but did not wake, for which he was grateful. He did not think he could speak of the horrors he'd seen. Far too afraid that you might have regrets keeping him at your side.

With a tilt of his head, Zevlor surveyed the room in search of the sole other treasure that held immense value in his existence. His infernal gaze landed on the crib where his beloved child peacefully slumbered. Silently he stood and peered into the crib, observing the delicate rhythm of his precious newborn’s tranquil breaths, finding solace in their steady respiration. Recollections of tender smiles and tiny grasping fingers alleviated the remnants of fear lingering in his thoughts.

How close he'd come to losing everything that day… When the absolute swayed him… Never again though. Never.

Quietly, Zevlor lifted the babe and returned to your side.

Holding his child close, the newborn's tiny heartbeat and warmth proof that the nightmare was not truly a reality.

“I vow to you, my child, and to your mother,” he whispered softly, his voice a tender rumble in the quiet of the night. “I will be your shield, your protector. No harm shall come to you as long as I draw breath.”

Zevlor's gaze shifted from the baby back to you. The sight of you both, safe and sound, was truly a balm to his troubled soul. Carefully, he adjusted his child in his arms, ensuring they were snug and secure. With a deep, steadying breath, he allowed himself a moment to simply be present, soaking in the quiet joy of fatherhood and being your lover. The fears of his nightmare seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet confidence borne of love and duty.

As the night deepened, Zevlor continued to watch over his little family. Every so often, he would gently touch the baby's cheek or brush a soft kiss against your forehead. These small acts reaffirming himself that this comforting reality was indeed true, not merely an illusion.

Raphael

In your room where shadows danced with the dim candlelight, all was silent except for your gentle breaths as you slept soundly. The bed, large and ornate, cradled not only your dreams but also a newborn, wrapped in delicate linens embroidered with gold stitches. You, with a serene expression, appeared as a portrait of peace as you held your infant close to your heart.

It was always around this time that the air shifted subtly, a warmth flooding the room, a sharp scent of sulfur and cherries mingling with your very own fragrance. From the darker corners of the room emerged a figure, tall and imposing, wrapped in fine silks to match the hells of which he was born from.

As Raphael approached the bed, his movements were silent, almost reverent. His fingers, warm and soft, traced a path up your exposed arm, stopping just short of your face. For a moment, he merely stood, his gaze shifting between you and the child nestled within your arms. A rare, tender expression softened the harsh lines of his face.

With the care of one who handles precious artifacts, Raphael gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was surprisingly tender, a contrast to his usual character. “Such a sleepy little mouse,” he murmured with an affectionate tone, one that seemed unfamiliar on his lips, “how quaint.”

Carefully, he lifted the infant from your embrace. The baby, undisturbed, continued to sleep, her tiny chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm. Raphael seated himself on the edge of the bed, ensuring every movement was calculated and silent, not to disturb the peaceful slumber of the infant's mother, you.

Holding the child merely inches from him, he looked at her with a complex mixture of emotions; affection, pride, perhaps even a hint of fear. His eyes, usually so piercing and cold, warmed as they rested on the child's placid face.

Raphael's attention was momentarily drawn to the balcony where a pseudo dragon perched, its eyes fixed on him with an unblinking gaze. The creature, a guardian by nature, watched with a protective intensity, ready to act should it perceive any threat to the child.

Turning his gaze back to the infant, Raphael spoke softly, his voice a whisper that carried weight and promise, “When she is grown, she will rule the nine hells with me.” The declaration was not just a statement of future events; it was a father's vow, a ruler's plan, “the perfect heir.” His daughter, this innocent soul, was not just any infant; she was his daughter, destined to share his ruling over the realms of damnation.

The room remained silent, the only sound the occasional flutter of the pseudo dragon's wings and the steady breathing of you and his child. Raphael continued to hold his daughter, his mind undoubtedly racing with plans and dreams of what was to come. For now, however, this moment was tender, a father bonding with his daughter, their future sprawling before them like the starlit sky outside the balcony.

#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 & 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓝𝓮𝔀𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓩𝓮𝓿𝓵𝓸𝓻 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓡𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓢𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓡𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵 𝓞𝓾𝓻 ��𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 ⋆˙⟡♡#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 Zevlor #Rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3 #raphael bg3 x reader #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader

428 notes · View notes

marsingtonn · 3 months ago

Text

twinks were invented when bill s preston esquire started existing

#cal says something for once #bill and ted #bill s preston esquire

65 notes · View notes

alastor-simp · 1 year ago

Text

Ruggie, Jade, Floyd and Lilia Reacting To The Reader Calling Them Beautiful

Ruggie Bucchi🍩

🍩 “….. Come Again?” Ruggie was just minding his own business in one of the fields, scarfing down donuts that he had bought with Leonas money. You had spotted him and decided to sit next to him, as you watched him stuff his face with the sweet treat

🍩His smile was adorable when he was enjoying the donuts, and then you began to study his other features including his cute tail and ears, and while you were doing that you just slipped out that he was beautiful.

🍩Ruggie had choked mid-bite in the donut and started smacking his chest to catch his breath, with you hitting his back to help him from choking. Ruggie was definitely not expecting you to say that to him, he had expected you to call Leona that, but not him.

🍩Once he was able to talk again, he turned towards you with a smirk: “Shyeheehee, trying to sweet talk me, Y/N? You do know I grew up in the slums right? So I am definitely not beautiful.”

🍩Gazing at him with a serious expression, you told him what does it matter if he grew up in the slums or not he was still beautiful according to you. You told him despite his rough upbringing, he was how you say “a diamond in the rough.”

🍩Yelp, that got him blushing and his tail wagging. He wasn’t use to being complimented, so hearing you cal him that, made him super happy. He was still flustered, but he slowly came closer to you, while leaning his head on your shoulder. He muttered a thanks, while he grabbed two more donuts from his bag and handed one to you. Smiling, you grabbed it and placed it in your mouth, enjoying the sugary taste as well as the sweet moment the two of you were having.

Jade Leech🍄

🍄 Jade was attending inside Mostro Lounge, cleaning up after a long day and polishing one of the glasses. You were there as well, helping out as a way to say thanks for the whole Scarabia incident.

🍄After you had finished, you caught yourself staring at Jade, as he was busy finishing off the glasses. Your eyes trailed to his heterochromatic irises, his hair, and his smile. Jade noticed you staring and asked if there was something wrong, and you just out and said that he was beautiful

🍄"Glass-breaking", The glass from Jades hand had fallen from his hand and shattered on the floor. Jade was stayed stiff and his face was neutral as he was processing your words. You ran towards Jade and asked if he was okay, and to be careful stepping as there was glass all over the floor. You had grabbed his arm and pulled him towards you, telling him to walk away from the mess.

🍄As you pulled him away from the shattered pieces on the floor, you told him you would be back with a pan and broom to clean up the mess. Before you could turn away and fetch the cleaning supplies, Jade had grabbed you, placing his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place.

🍄 "It shouldn't be wise to lie to me, Prefect. I can tell when someone is lying to me. I can always use my signature spell to make you tell the truth." Jade was smiling at you, but it looked sinister as he was contemplating using his spell on you or no. You glared at Jade, and said you have no reason to lie about something like this, and dared him to use his spell.

🍄Jade's eyes widen in shock as he took the brunt of your words. He knew you weren't the type of person to lie about something like that. Heaving a sigh, Jade placed a hand on his forehead: "My apologies, Prefect. I had gotten use to many students here telling me false truths and little white lies that it just becomes a habit now to use my spell. As a way to apologies, I can perform one wish for you." Jade gazed at you with a sad expression, feeling horrible for what he did.

🍄Smiling at Jade, you told him that, first he can help you clean the shattered glass on the floor and second, if he could bring you to where he keeps his terrariums. Chuckling, Jade gave you a polite smile, and a bow saying "As you wish."

Floyd Leech🦐

🦐Gazing up at the night sky, you were floating in the lake near the campsite. After the whole camp vargas experience, you decided you needed a good wash as you were covered in dirt and sweat.

🦐Everyone else was asleep in their tents and were most likely not going to spot you, so this was your only chance to wash up and relax

🦐As you were floating, you heard the sounds of something splashing a few feet from you, but you paid it no mind as it was probably some fish splashing around. You did, however, jump in fright as you felt something touch the back of your leg.

🦐Looking around in the dark water, you didn't see anything moving around, but there was an ache in your stomach telling you there was something else in the water.

🦐 "SPLASH, BOO~", a mysterious figure had popped up from the water in front of you, scaring you half to death. You screamed and moved to swim away until you noticed the yellow glowing eye and eel tail.

🦐 "FLOYD! you scared me to death!" You whispered yelled at Floyd, trying to be quiet as not to alert the other campers, since it was still night out. "Ehe~ Gomenasai Shrimpy-chan~ You were so defenseless and cute, staying in the water like that, so I decided to give you a little spook~ Why you out here all by yourself?"

🦐 You told Floyd that you wanted to take a quick swim and relax especially with how crazy the day was, Floyd laughed and said he would join you, then he poked your cheek saying Tag and started swimming away. Giggling, you swam after him

🦐 Floyd was definitely faster then you, as he swam through the like like butter, while you were doggy paddling, trying to catch up to him. Floyd noticed you struggling, so he showed you some mercy, and stopped swimming. He lifted his head from the water, and slicked his hair back, smiling at you, while calling you a slowpoke.

🦐 Once you caught up, you stopped and stared at Floyd. The moonlight shining down was making his scaly body shine, and his pure smile was making your heart race. "You look beautiful." Realizing what you said out loud, you covered your mouth with your hands, and sank down into the water, embarrassed.

🦐 Floyd heard what you said, and quickly stopped smiling. His brain slowly taking in what you said. Smirking, Floyd swam closer to you, and wrapped his arms and tail around you, locking you in place. "Aww~ You find me beautiful, Shrimpy-chan? Come on~ say it again." Floyd was inching closer and closer to your face, teasing you while he kept squeezing you with his arms and tail.

🦐 You were too flustered to say anything, as you clamped your mouth shut, refusing to say it again, while your face slowly started to turn as red as Riddle's hair. Floyd leaned closer to your ear and whispered "please". Bearing through the embarrassment, you looked up at Floyd and called him beautiful again.

🦐 Floyd looked at you lovingly, satisfied that you called him beautiful again. He placed his hands, on both of your cheeks, lifting your head to capture your lips. His kisses were like a drug, addicting. Slowly, you closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his back, continuing to kiss under the moonlight.

Lilia Vanrouge🦇

🦇 "Back in my younger days, I was the General of the Land of the Briar. I had swore to protect the land and to serve Meleanor Draconia."

🦇 You were at the Diasomnia dorm, sitting on the bed in Lilia's room. You were struggling with ancient history and Lilia had offered to help tutor you. He had decided to teach you about the history of his hometown, Briar Valley, and went on long tangents, talking about the past rulers and his past as a general.

🦇 As Lilia continued to rant, you had decided to look in one of the history books, to learn a bit more about the history. You flipped through the pages until you came across a picture of Lilia in the book. Surprised, you stopped and studied the picture. Lilia was fully dressed in armor, with a sword attached to his hip. You noticed he looked the exact same, but he had a more serious expression and his dyed hair was flowing down his back.

🦇Talking to yourself, you said he looked beautiful. Lilia had stopped mid rant and turned to look at you, confused as he didn’t catch what you said. “ What was that Y/N? I didn’t hear what you said, do you mind repeating it?”

🦇Blushing, you had grabbed the book and placed it in front of your face, hiding your scarlet cheeks from him. You yelled that you said nothing, while you continued to use the history book as a shield.

🦇Lilia was confused as to why you were acting so odd. He moved closer towards you and placed his hands on the book that was covering your face. You put up some resistance, but you knew that you couldn’t handle the strength of a powerful fae general.

🦇As Lilia pulled the book from you, his eyes were drawn to the picture he saw of himself and then back to you. Putting the dots together, Lilia realized that you were admiring how he looked in the past.

🦇Smirking, Lilia began to inch closer and closer towards you. You didn’t realize what was happening until you found yourself falling against the bed, with Lilia hovering over you.

🦇 “Kufufu, do you find my past self very enchanting?” Lilia was smiling down at you, gazing at you with his ruby colored eyes. You became tongue-tied at what was happening at the moment, as you were trying to find your words while a hot vampire fae was on top of you. Casting your eyes aside, you told Lilia that he looked beautiful.

🦇Chuckling, Lilia placed a hand on your cheek, telling you to look at him. He asked if you found him beautiful right now. Smiling, you reached your hand out and began to trace Lilias face. Your fingers played with strands of his hair, then you moved them over to his ears, then his cheeks, and then his lips.

🦇 “You are beautiful Lilia. Even if you looked a bit different in the past, it’s still you.” Lilia is not a man who gets surprised easily, but you had managed to do that with such sweet words.

🦇Lilia had grabbed your hand from his face and placed a kiss on it, before he descended closer towards your face and began leaving smooches all over it as well as giving you some nips on your neck

🦇Giggling, you told Lilia that this tickles and try to move him off you, but Lilia just laughed and continued his kissing/biting session. He eventually stopped, and laid his head on your chest, cuddling you as you both stayed laying on his bed.

2K notes · View notes

sleepyparalysisdmon · 14 days ago

Text

SVT as your bff

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘Could you maybe do how SVT would be as a platonic best friend? 🙏🏻’

Seungcheol Very much the ‘call if you need me’ sort of bestie. He insists that he’s never too busy if you need anything, even if there might be spells that he can’t keep up with you as much as he would like. But still, he has your contact set up to ring through no matter what and he’ll drop just about anything if you need his help. Or, if he really can’t get away, he’s sending some who can get away. It shouldn’t surprise anyone, but he’s an overprotective bff. It does not matter what the age difference is. I think it’s kind of just in his nature to be that way.

Jeonghan Is he your best friend or your worst enemy? Some days you won’t be sure. Will tease you mercilessly for something and just when you might start to actually get upset, he pats your head with a grin and says ‘there, there’, and offers to get food or do something that you like. Always teams up with you for games. At least, he did before his group members caught on that you two were actually somehow worse together, so they force you to be on separate teams from now on. Not that this will stop the cheating on either side. But on occasion, he’ll let your team win.

Joshua Omg, matching everything. He’ll do the cute friendship bracelets or other matching pieces of jewelry or clothing. He sees something nice when he’s shopping and his attitude is ‘one for me, one for you’. He understands how coupley this might look sometimes, but he’ll shrug it off because it’s just not like that. He just likes to have little reminders of your friendship, especially when he gets too busy to see you as much as he’d like to.

Jun Where do you think he tests out all of his bad jokes? You hear them all first. Now, this isn’t a perfect system, mostly because 99% of what he says is something you find funny. But still!! You’ll get a text that says, “Hold on, I got one”, and then you’ll get a voice message with the joke. If you don’t approve, he’s wiping it from his memory. If you do approve though, trust that his group members will be tortured with that joke later that day. They might even groan and say “I cannot believe Y/N approved of that one,” because this little approval process of yours and Jun’s is not secretive at all.

Hoshi Bet you expected me to say that you two are insane together!! (I almost did, but thought better of it.) Energetic? Yes. But I think he’s probably way more mature in close friendships and relationships than he gets credit for. He’s a very attentive bestie. Sure, he comes to you when he needs to vent or get away, but I think you might lean on him even more because he’s just so… open to anything to do with you. He’s just such a warm person that you feel safe to tell him anything. I think he’d also give some really solid advice!! Bonus: I’m so sorry, but you’re the Designated Drunk Soonyoung Babysitter when you drink with them. And if you aren’t drinking with them, they might just drop him off with you on the way home.

Wonwoo So steady! Does not matter what he’s doing or where he’s at, he’s texting you at least once a day. Could just be a ‘you good?’ text, but still, it happens every. Single. Day. He gets the reputation for being more reserved than the others, but I think he’d be very warm to people that he’s close to, and you’re no exception. I fully believe he’s the yapper in your friendship and it might shock his members sometimes with how much of a motor mouth he becomes if he’s talking to you. But it’s because he knows you’ll never make him feel bad about being chatty.

Woozi You know in gose episodes when he’s just in the background folded in half laughing? That’s a daily occurrence with you. Don’t get me wrong, his group members surely bring a lot of levity to the work they have to do, but it’s still work a lot of the time, you know? But sneaking away to hang out with you would be some sort of escapism for him, I think. I also think you’d be the first call his group members make when he needs to be pulled away from work for a breather. Like Seungcheol, I think he’d also drop anything if you needed him, but I theorize he probably needs more support in this friendship most of the time, more than he’d like to admit.

DK Oh, he’s so sweet with literally everyone, but particularly with you. Super invested in what you’re up to and what you want to do. It might be his first day off in a month, but he’s still asking what YOU want to do with your day off. Also, the biggest and loudest cheerleader for any ambitions you have. It doesn’t matter what it is. You could have no one else in your life cheering you on, but he’ll make up for their absence with his overwhelming energy. Bonus: he’d be overjoyed if you gave the same energy back to things he was working on, like SVT, BSS, or acting/musicals, but will probably never ask for it. Please loudly cheer him on, it would make him turn to mush.

Mingyu Another one that somehow finds time to text you every single day, no matter what he’s up to. And he’s super stubborn about it, so if he’s overseas and you realize the time where he is when you get a text, you’ll tell him to go to sleep and you’ll get back a ‘No!!!!’ Now, you surely give him a hard time about some things, but you need to be his #1 defender from his group members because they’re brutal about it 25/8 lol. I mean, he breathes and they laugh at him. He will not hesitate to hide behind you (or try to) and point to them saying, “They’re being mean!!” You have a big, sweet baby for a best friend.

Minghao The best secret keeper!! You’ve told him things you’ve never told anyone else because you know he’ll never breathe a word of it to anyone else. Now… that doesn’t stop him from giving you a hard time about some of the funnier or more embarrassing secrets he knows in private. Heaven forbid if one of those secrets is who your SVT bias is or if you have even the tiniest crush on one of his members. He’ll never let you live that down. But seriously, the most trustworthy. And I think in time he’d spill some of his own secrets to you as well.

Seungkwan You know all of the gossip. It genuinely doesn’t matter if you’ve never met these people or never even heard of them. He’s giving you the full story, blow by blow. That includes anything to do with the group too. He will never stop telling you about comebacks or album concepts as soon as they’re planned, no matter how much Seungcheol wishes he wouldn’t. And Seungkwan wants all of your gossip too! Please tell him about how rude the mean lady from accounting is so he can scoff and say, “I cannot believe she said that!” Whereas the secret sharing with Minghao comes with time, with Seungkwan it’s an assumption of your friendship. Secret sharing between the two of you is actually a requirement, I'm so sorry.

Vernon Whereas others might make a point to text every single day, no matter what, you’re inundated with memes and TikToks with zero explanation. Don’t bother asking why and just reply with your own meme or TikTok. You guys can go literal days without actually speaking or messaging words to each other - your text thread is just images and links. But when you do need to talk, he is so level-headed that you go to him with all of your problems. He’s particularly good to talk to if you’re feeling anxious or high-strung about something because he’s just so chill. Don’t feel bad if he doesn’t always do the same (I think he probably likes to figure his shit out on his own when he can), but he definitely feels comforted knowing he can come to you if he did need something.

Chan On the go all the time!! Seriously, his group members never know where he is on his day off. Then he comes back late with evidence of where he was and clearly had fun. Like you guys will disappear for the afternoon and go to a fair, and he’ll come back with some stuffed animal and some cotton candy and they’re all like, “why weren’t we invited???” He’ll shrug because it never occurred to him to invite anyone else. Because that’s HIS time with HIS bestie. Actually the best to talk to when you are feeling down or need help with something, because he strikes me as someone that is such a comforting person to have around.

161 notes · View notes

beanarie · 26 days ago

Text

i never wanted water once part 3

tommy is also breakup baking, prompted by my dear @sanguinarysanguinity

tw: mention of parent death, mention of child abuse

part 1

part 2

Gutierrez eyes him on his way out of the locker room. "Feel like no one ever sees you anymore. You coming back to the pickup game or what?"

"Oh." Tommy gives his damp hair one last rub from the towel. "I wasn't planning on it, to be honest. Too awkward."

Gutierrez frowns. "Why?"

"You know," Tommy says, wishing he didn't have to, "Eddie Diaz. I broke up with his best friend."

"Diaz hasn't shown in weeks. Probably got injured. You know how that crew is."

And that. Well. He and Eddie were friends. They became tight very quickly in a way Tommy hasn't experienced with many people. He shouldn't have thrown a connection like that away without at least trying to salvage it.

He sends a text, a polite, generic one asking about his welfare. Worst thing that can happen is Eddie tells him to fuck off and he's back where he started. He fully expects to be left on read.

He does not expect Eddie to tell him he's moving back to Texas because he's given up on his son deciding to come home. Eddie invites him to a pre-going away dinner at a bar and grill before he goes down South for a few days to scout out homes. And, no, absolutely not. But Tommy proposes getting a drink, just the two of them. Eddie very validly explains that he can't spare the time, since he's already started packing up his life and he's working overtime to save up for a down payment. Tommy gets it. He does.

The day after the dinner, Eddie calls him. "Hey, man. I know we're like two ships passing in the night, but I didn't want to leave without a proper goodbye. I still got some more shifts before I move for good, but the time will go by quick. We'll just stay on the line, okay? Keep me company while I go through my kitchen cabinets."

"It's good to hear from you," Tommy says honestly.

"So yeah." Eddie hums. "Why'd you do it?"

"Text you?" Tommy says. "I heard that-"

"Kinard," Eddie says, unamused.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You just didn't seem the type to flee."

None of you know me as well as you thought you did, Tommy doesn't say. That's not fair to any of them. "I wasn't, in the past. Well, I tried not being that. A couple times. It didn't work out."

"Oh," Eddie says. "There it is."

"There what is?"

"You've got shit."

"Haven't we all?"

"Hey, I am not denying that." Eddie chuckles. "Do you plan on dealing with it, or letting it blow up every good thing you find until you die?"

"Jesus, Eddie."

"What's the point in mincing words? You did something dumb and destructive. What kinda friend would I be if I let that go without saying anything?"

"So what's the weather even like in El Paso? Does it ever get below 100?"

After a groan, Eddie lets Tommy talk about his shit, about Texas, parenthood, and chess clubs, for the rest of the call. Tommy can't say that he'll miss him. He missed him already and now he gets to continue doing so. All of this sucks.

Tommy tries his hand at gnocchi made with ricotta, lemon, and pepper that subsequently almost causes a fistfight during B shift.

Demetra favors him with a warm smile, taking in the large box in his hands. "Tom, right? Welcome! What's all this?"

"Tommy," he says easily, impressed she remembered his name at all. He hasn't been to this slightly dusty community center in five or six years. "Uh, this is garlic knots and mini calzones."

"Well, hey. You're even more welcome than before. Come take a seat."

December is a stupid time to rejoin group, many of the participants close to the edge from a cocktail of seasonal depression, missing dead loved ones, and generalized loneliness. Tommy knew it would be like this going in. He counted on it. Everyone will have so much to say that there likely won't be any time for him to open his mouth. He's not ready to spill. It will help to just soak in the atmosphere of unashamed honesty for a while.

At his third meeting, Cal, a slender guy in his mid twenties with a curly mohawk, keeps bringing up his mother. "She never wanted me to enlist," he says, "and now that I'm back home and struggling, she can't stop being all 'I told you so' morning, noon, and night. She never says it, but she is thinking it."

"Is she?" Tommy finds himself asking. "Or are you putting something on her that isn't there?"

"Maybe so." Cal pops one of Tommy's fried ravioli in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "I don't know, I should probably give her a chance, think first about what she's actually saying before I react. But it's hard in the moment, you know?"

"Tommy?" Demetra says a minute later, making him feel like a kid being called on by the teacher. "How's your relationship with your mom?"

"Nonexistent. She died when I was fifteen." He crosses his ankles. "Fell asleep in the car on our way back from an away game and we couldn't wake her up. Heart attack."

Demetra frowns sympathetically. "That must've been hard for a kid to witness."

"I've seen so much worse since then. People shot in the head by machine guns, people covered in burns over most of their bodies..."

Demetra shakes her head slightly. "They weren't your mom."

He ducks his head, pressing his lips together. "True. It's just- That's not- It's not trauma. I don't fear falling asleep and not waking up."

"What do you fear?" Cal asks.

Being left, being hurt, being validated in his belief that no one will ever see him for all he is and choose to stick around. "Standard stuff, really. Clowns, taxes, drivers on the freeway."

He gets a pity laugh, a groan or two, and one outright glare. "Okay, okay." He exhales loudly. "Ending up alone by someone else's choice rather than mine."

"So you're cool with being on your own, as long as you're the one keeping everyone away," Cal says.

God, that sounds idiotic. "Yes?"

"You prefer it like this?" asks a woman about his own age wearing a green bomber jacket.

He shrugs. "It's not ideal, but as far as worst case scenarios go, it's okay. It's fine."

"It's spineless," says a gray-haired man with a Desert Storm hat.

Tommy doesn't flinch. "Yeah, that's kind of an inherent character trait. I keep thinking I got it licked, then it shows up wearing another face. Scared of my dad, so I joined the army and became someone he couldn't hurt anymore. Scared of people knowing I was gay, so I waited to come out until I was surrounded by brand new people. Scared of my boyfriend leaving, so." He pushes at the skin above his knees, kneading it. "So I left him first."

"You fall back," says Bomber Jacket. Her name is Annie or Angie. She has conflicted feelings about dating a man with kids. "It's easy to stop being scared when the thing that scared you is far away."

He hears Eddie. You just didn't seem the type to flee.

Demetra holds up a hand. Tommy's face must be doing something concerning. "No one here faults you for what you did to survive. Is it still serving you, is the question, or is that just what you're used to?"

He doesn't bake when he gets home. He drinks half the beers in his fridge and does a shockingly efficient job of cleaning his house, while drafting and deleting twenty-seven different texts. He then wakes up the next day, and goes to the pickup game.

Gutierrez scores four rebounds on him and doesn't shut up about it for the rest of their next shift. Tommy grumbles, and talks shit, and promises he won't have much to brag about next time.

#911 abc #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #my writing #things by beanarie

153 notes · View notes