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allthingsfangirl101 · 4 months ago

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Not-So Good Cop – Timothy McGee

Trigger Warning: violence, mention of rape

"Grab your gear," Gibbs said as he walked into the squad room. "We got a Navy Lieutenant who was attacked in her home."

"Dead?" McGee asked.

"Worse," Gibbs sighed.

"What's worse than dead?" DiNozzo asked.

"Raped."

The three drove to the crime scene in silence. They didn't usually, but things were done differently when it was a case like this. They didn't make jokes. They didn't act childish. They were gentle and respectful.

"Wait. . ." McGee mumbled.

"What's wrong?" Gibbs asked.

"Nothing," McGee stuttered. "It's just. . . Y/N lives in this building."

"Ohhhh," DiNozzo said singsongy. "Lieutenant McGirlfriend lives here. Maybe we'll run into her."

They headed to the Navy Lieutenant's apartment and McGee froze when they reached the door.

"It can't be," he whispered.

"What?" Gibbs asked.

"Y/N lives here." Without saying anything else, McGee walked into the apartment. Gibbs and DiNozzo shared a look before quickly following McGee.

The second McGee walked into his girlfriend's room, his stomach plummeted. She was sitting on her bed, tears streaming down her face, tightly holding onto her robe which was wrapped around her body, as she talked to a female police officer.

"I'm sorry, sir," another officer stopped him in the doorway. "This is an active crime scene. I can't let you in."

"He's NCIS," Gibbs said, appearing behind McGee. "And she is. . ."

"Tim?"

Everyone turned when Y/N shakily said McGee's name. She let out a small sob as she stood up and ran over to him. She jumped in his arms and he instantly caught her.

"I'm here, baby," he whispered.

"It was horrible!" She sobbed. McGee tightened his arms around her as she buried her face in his chest.

"She's a Navy Lieutenant and he's an NCIS agent," Gibbs finished explaining to the officer. "Not to mention that they've been dating for over a year."

"Oh," the officer said, his eyes still on Y/N shaking in McGee's arms.

"We can handle it from here," Gibbs said. "Thank you."

"Y/N," McGee whispered. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She looked up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Are you asking as my boyfriend or an NCIS agent?"

"Both?" McGee shrugged.

"No offense, Tim," Y/N sighed as she tucked back into his chest, "but I think I'd rather have NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee right now."

"How about NCIS Special Agent Boyfriend?"

"Okay," Y/N chuckled weakly.

McGee grabbed her hand and led her out of the room. He looked around when he saw all the people in her apartment. They sat down on the couch and Y/N instantly tucked into his chest. McGee looked up at Gibbs and sent him a pleading look before glancing down at Y/N.

"DiNozzo, clear the room," Gibbs whispered.

"On it, boss," DiNozzo said. He started to walk away but stopped. He looked over at Y/N in McGee's arms and his heart sank. When he saw how tightly McGee was holding onto Y/N, he gently added, "Let's find this son of a bitch."

"Y/N," McGee whispered, "what happened tonight, baby?"

"I was getting ready for bed," she started to explain shakily. "All of a sudden, there was this loud bang. I still don't know what it was."

"The door was kicked in," McGee explained gently.

"Oh," she said, her voice breaking. "He came out of nowhere. He hit me so hard it knocked me out. I woke up to him. . . on top of me."

"I tried to get him off of me," she started to explain quickly as she quickly pulled out of McGee's hug. "I fought and I fought. But he kept hitting me. He put his hands around my neck at one point, Tim. I was scared. . . I thought he'd. . . I couldn't breathe."

When Y/N started sobbing, McGee pulled her back into his chest. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to find this guy and hurt him.

"I'm sorry," McGee heard through Y/N's sob. He pulled out of the hug and turned Y/N toward him.

"What on earth are you sorry for, baby?" He asked as he reached up and caught a tear with his thumb. "Y/N, this was not your fault. Nothing you did caused this. You're the victim here. And I am going to find this son of a bitch and make him pay for hurting you."

"Tim. . . He. . . You know what he did to me," she barely got out.

"I know," McGee said. His eyes softened when he realized what Y/N was so worried about. "Baby, this doesn't change anything."

"But. . ."

"It doesn't change anything between us," he gently cut her off. "Y/N, nothing some coward does is going to change how I feel about you."

"You still love me?" She asked, her voice breaking. McGee leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers. He broke the kiss and smiled at her, keeping his face inches from hers.

"Nothing would ever make me stop loving you."

* * * * *

Ever since she was attacked, Y/N's been staying at McGee's place and McGee hasn't left her side. He wanted to go in and stay at NCIS until he found this son of a bitch, but he didn't want to leave Y/N alone. And Y/N didn't want him to leave her.

McGee woke up after a rough night of Y/N barely sleeping. He looked over to see her finally getting some rest. He jumped when his phone started ringing. He quickly answered it to turn off the ring but didn't say anything.

McGee quietly left his room and slightly closed the door to keep from waking Y/N up as he answered the phone.

"McGee!" DiNozzo yelled the second McGee answered the phone. "We got a lead on the bastard that attacked Y/N."

"Really?"

"He tried to attack another Navy Lieutenant last night. They caught him on a neighbor's ring camera. Abby's running facial recognition on the creep now." DiNozzo paused before adding, "I thought you and Y/N would want to know. How is she?"

"She's. . . better," McGee sighed.

"She still not sleeping through the night?"

"No," McGee said as he sat on his couch. "It takes a long time for her to fall asleep and then when she is asleep, she wakes up to the slightest noise. It seems like everything scares her now. I can't even leave the room without her getting scared."

DiNozzo was silent for a while before saying gently, "Stay with her. I'll call you if we get a hit on the BOLO."

After McGee hung up with DiNozzo, he leaned his head on the back of his couch and closed his eyes. After a few minutes of silence, he stood up and went back to his room. When he walked in, he was surprised to see Y/N awake. She was sitting against the headboard, clutching a pillow to her chest.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said gently as he walked over and sat next to her. The second he was by her side, she turned and cuddled into his chest. "Did you get any sleep?"

"A little," Y/N mumbled. McGee heard her take a few breaths that soon turned into soft sobs. "I can't stop thinking about it, Tim."

"I'm so sorry, baby," McGee whispered. "I wish, more than anything, that I could change what happened. What I can tell you is that it'll go away."

"When?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I wish I did, but I don't. There is some good news though. The team got a lead."

"They what?" She stuttered as she slightly pulled out of his arms.

"Tony just called me," he explained. "He said that there was a guy who tried to attack another woman in the Navy last night. They caught him on the security camera. Abby is trying to identify him from the recording."

"That's. . . Good, right?"

"It is," McGee said quickly. "It's really good, baby. My team is the best group of NCIS agents we have. Especially when it comes to family."

"I'm not family," she blushed. "At least not yet."

McGee leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. He broke the kiss and smiled at her. "My team loves you. I love you. We'll find this son of a bitch. For you."

* * * * *

It took a couple of days, but eventually, McGee's team found the man who attacked Y/N.

McGee slowly hung up his phone and looked up to see Y/N making lunch. She didn't notice when he walked into the kitchen. She turned around with two plates in her hands and stopped when she finally noticed him.

"Hey, you," she said softly. "Who called you?"

"Tony," McGee answered her as he walked over to her. She was about to put down the two plates but froze when he said, "They got him, baby."

"They what?" She stuttered. McGee took the plates out of her hands and gently put them on the counter.

"My team caught him, Y/N. DiNozzo called me to tell me that they found him and were bringing him back to NCIS."

"So," she said slowly after thinking about it for a second, "it's over?"

"Almost, gorgeous," he whispered.

"Almost?" She stuttered.

McGee hesitated before explaining, "I need to take you to NCIS so you can ID the man they caught as the man who attacked you."

"You want me to. . . I don't know, Tim. I don't think I can. . . I can't face him."

When McGee noticed Y/N slowly start to go into a panic attack, he gently grabbed her arms.

"I am not putting you in a room with that monster," he reassured her. "I promise, baby. All you have to do is stand in the observation room and tell us if he was the one who attacked you. He won't even know you're there."

"Promise?" She asked, her voice soft.

"I promise." McGee could see that something was bothering her. "Is there something else on your mind?"

Y/N hesitated before finally asking McGee, "Do I have to do this alone?"

"Of course not," McGee said quickly. He pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "I will be by your side the entire time."

McGee kept his promise. He held her hand the entire drive to NCIS. He kept his arm wrapped around her the entire elevator ride up. He led her through the squad room and into the observation room. When they walked in, McGee's team looked at the two.

"How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" Gibbs asked gently.

"I'm okay," she shrugged as she stepped closer to McGee.

Gibbs walked over and lowered his voice. "It's almost over, Y/N. All we need you to do is tell us if the guy we have in the other room is the same one who attacked you. Once you do that, you can go home and we will take it from there."

Y/N looked at McGee and nodded. McGee kept his arm wrapped around Y/N's waist as DiNozzo switched on the light in the interview room.

"Lieutenant," Gibbs said gently, "is this the man that attacked you three nights ago?"

Y/N's eyes filled with tears as she tightly grabbed onto McGee. She tried to form words but they got stuck in her throat. All she could do was picture everything that happened that night.

"Just nod, baby," McGee whispered. She covered her mouth to try and stifle the sob. The tension in the observation room thickened when Y/N nodded her head.

Y/N jumped when Gibbs knocked on the window. She tucked into McGee's chest before she finally let her sob out. McGee caught her when her legs gave out.

"Get her out of here," Gibbs whispered. "She doesn't need to be here anymore. We can handle the rest."

With his arms still wrapped tightly around her, McGee led her out of the observation room. They left the room and were walking down the hallway when Abby came running toward them.

"Y/N!"

McGee smiled when Abby pulled Y/N from him and wrapped her in her arms. They pulled out of the hug and started talking. McGee didn't bother to interrupt. This was the first time since Y/N was attacked that she smiled and acted a little like herself.

"McGee."

He turned around to see Gibbs walking out of the room. "I want you to interview him."

"Are you sure?" McGee asked. "What about Rule number 10?"

"It goes out the window when the bastard attacks the woman you love," Gibbs said simply. He patted McGee on the back as he added, "Go get him, McGee. I'll be in the observation room if you need me."

McGee looked over his shoulder to see Y/N talking to Abby. He slowly turned back to Gibbs and tried to control his anger.

"I won't be the one who needs help."

* * * * *

Abby took care of Y/N while McGee interviewed the man who attacked the woman he loves. His name was Louis Jackson. Apparently, he was kicked out of the Marine training camp for coming onto his female superior. Because of that, he's been going around to Navy bars and attacking women. Y/N was the first woman he followed home.

And McGee couldn't wait to ask what made Jackson follow Y/N home.

With the file clenched in his hand, McGee walked into the interrogation room. DiNozzo and Gibbs shared a look as McGee sat across from Jackson.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" DiNozzo asked. "McGee is gonna kill him."

"Wouldn't you if the woman you loved was attacked by this slime ball?"

"Exactly," DiNozzo chuckled. "McGee loves Y/N more than he's ever loved a girl. I saw the way he held her as she cried in her apartment the other day. While he was holding her, I saw the anger in his eyes. And I've never seen that kind of anger in Tim."

Gibbs was slightly taken back when DiNozzo called McGee by his first name.

"We are about to see a different side to him, boss," DiNozzo said gently. "To be honest, I'm worried about him."

"Then go."

"What?"

"Go in there with him," Gibbs clarified. "Not to take over the interrogation, but to have his back."

DiNozzo nodded before leaving the observation room and walking into the interrogation room. McGee didn't say anything as DiNozzo walked in. DiNozzo sent McGee a nod as he positioned himself behind him.

"Where were you two nights ago?" McGee asked, already struggling to keep his anger under control.

"Hanging with my buddies, watching a football game," Jackson said a little too quickly.

"What football game?" McGee asked. He didn't bother to hide his smirk when Jackson opened and closed his mouth.

"I don't know," Jackson said slowly. "We were a little focused on the drinking part."

"You got that part right," DiNozzo mumbled. Jackson looked over McGee's shoulder and glared.

"Where were you three nights ago?" McGee asked, his jaw clenched.

"I don't remember," Jackson said as he leaned back in the chair.

"What kind of bars do you like to attend?" McGee tried to bait him.

"You can cut the act," Jackson sighed. "I know what game you're playing. You, the good cop, are laying out everything you know before the other guy comes in and bashes my head in."

"Are you saying I'm the good cop?" McGee chuckled, instantly making DiNozzo nervous.

McGee grabbed Jackson's arm and pulled him forward. He used his other hand to force Jackson onto the table.

"What the hell?!" Jackson yelled. "Get this guy off of me!"

DiNozzo looked between McGee and Jackson and put his hands up in defense. "Hell no," he laughed. "I ain't getting in between you and Agent McRocky. Plus, I wasn't the one who attacked Lieutenant Y/L/N."

"This is about that little tease?"

McGee twisted his arm, cutting him off and making him yell out in pain.

"I wouldn't talk about his girl like that," DiNozzo chuckled.

"I am far from the good cop," McGee sneered into the guy's ear. "You attacked the woman I love. The only reason I haven't killed you is because she needs me."

McGee twisted his arm a little more before finally letting him go.

"You have no proof," Jackson tried to scoff but both McGee and DiNozzo could tell he was bluffing.

"We have a ring camera video of you and we have multiple witness statements. Every single one of the women you've attacked has given us police sketches that look just like you. You have even been identified."

"That little skank IDed me, didn't she?" Jackson asked through his teeth.

McGee went to grab him but DiNozzo stopped him before continuing, "We have all the evidence we need to lock you up for a looooonnnng time, Jackson. We don't even need your confession."

"Then why did you drag me in here?" He asked through his teeth.

"You can call it a professional courtesy," McGee said through his clenched jaw.

"In other words," DiNozzo gently corrected, "we're giving you one chance to come clean and maybe, maybe, we can talk to the judge."

The two agents stared at Jackson and waited for him to confess. He glared right back at them as he tried to cover the pain. McGee and DiNozzo shared a look. McGee closed the file and stood up. The two loudly talked as they left.

"Too bad," DiNozzo sighed. "I was sure he was gonna take the plea deal and only go to prison for the last two attacks."

"I know," McGee said, almost choking on the words. "Now he's looking at twenty-five years instead of ten, maybe eight with good behavior."

McGee's hand was on the doorknob when Jackson spoke up. "Wait!" McGee and DiNozzo shared another look before slowly turning around, acting like they didn't set this up.

"Did you have something you wanted to say?" DiNozzo asked overly nice.

"Talk more about this plea deal."

* * * * *

After finalizing the details, McGee felt like a giant weight was lifted off his shoulders. He and DiNozzo walked out of the interrogation room the same time that Gibbs walked out of the observation room.

Gibbs looked at McGee with an unreadable expression on his face. "How are you feeling?" He asked McGee.

"I'm fine," McGee sighed.

"You're tired," Gibbs said with a soft chuckle. "Why don't you find Y/N and take her home? DiNozzo can finish Jackson's paperwork."

"You're okay with that?" McGee asked, turning toward DiNozzo.

"Not really. . ." DiNozzo started to say but Gibbs cut him off with a slap to the back of his head. "I mean, absolutely. I am one hundred percent okay with it, McGee. Take your girl home."

"Thanks," McGee said with a small chuckle. He patted DiNozzo's shoulder as he handed him the file and turned on his heel, heading toward Abby's lab.

He was just outside Abby's lab when he heard the two girls laughing. Instead of interrupting them, McGee leaned against the doorway and watched them interact. Whatever story Y/N was telling had the both of them in tears.

"Tim!" Y/N gasped when she noticed him watching them. He laughed as she hopped off the stool and ran toward him. She jumped into McGee's arms, almost knocking them both down. She pulled out of their embrace and looked up at him. "Is. . . Is everything okay? I mean. . . Is it over?"

McGee reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. His heart sank when he saw the hope in her eyes that was hiding behind the fear.

"It's over, baby."

#timothy mcgee imagines #timothy mcgee fanfic #timothy mcgee imagine #timothy mcgee x reader #timothy mcgee #NCIS #NCIS fanfic #NCIS imagine

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hypnos333 · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! How are you? Hopefully good! I saw that requests are open (for hazbin hotel/helluva at least) and I wanted to send one in if that’s cool with you! Here I go!

Could I request Alastor and Vox (separately) with a GN! Reader who’s like Jeongmin Choi from Dreaming Freedom? I don’t really wanna explain her entire personality so I just added a link so it’s easier that way!

Thank you so much if you do this! Have a good day (:

A/N- I’m sorry I tried my best to fit the description of her

Freedom Dreaming

Alastor:

Charlie first met you when you were quite new to Hell and ever since she found you, you became her most loyal friend. You are a girl with quite only a few words and glare at anybody 6 feet under whoever talks or laughs at Charlie’s ideas.

That’s when you met Alaster, he found you delightful and Charming in your own way.

You can make anything happen just by a dream, A dream into reality and that makes you dangerous. A target at hell that’s why he has his shadow following you around. The last time you went all berserk is when someone was flirting with Alastor so you used your own powers to kill the bitch.

You didn’t think Alastor would noticed but nope he did notice and he found it hot. So he decided to play around with you for a bit.

“Hello my dear! I was wondering if you have seen the new resident? What was her name? Ah yes Bonnie” He asked you making your eye twitch in annoyence making you wonder why he’s asking about her

“Sadly I haven’t seen her Alastor maybe she just left feeling pressured for doing so much for just redemption” You stated without looking from your book. He raised an eyebrow at you at your smart excuse before seeing your frustration making him smile even more.

“Ah I see, You seemed to know a lot more than your saying my dear” Alastor commented making you huff putting your book down.

“What’s the need of needing her now, Alastor?” You questioned before walking away but before you can do that he grabbed your hand pulling you back towards him.

“My dear, it was all jokes but I must say jealousy does suit you” He smirk making you roll your eyes in disbelief. “I do wonder what happened to Miss. Bonnie?” He asked making you finally give in as you pulled him down to kiss you.

but before he could react you pulled away “Are you done talking about the bitch now? I think she knew what she was doing when she was flirting with you” You said making him hide his blush at your bold statement and action.

“My dear we’re far from talking about her now, it’s just us now”

“Just us alone?”

“Of course My Dear, just us alone” He replied leaning down for another kiss.

Vox:

You glare at Valentino as he hid behind your Fiancé, Vox raised his eyebrows at you two before seeing you genuinely angry. “My Darling What has you so angry” He asked you making you continue to glare at Valentino.

“I saw him hitting Angel dust making him bruised” You huffed before finally lunging at Valentino making Vox hold you back as Valentino screeched in shock. “IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU BITCH” You yelled at him eyes pure black before Vox carried you out the house.

“My Darling no offense but please calm the hell down, you gonna make all hell scared of you” Vox stated calmly.

This reminds him of himself when he has tantrums way too much now he sees how you feel during those. You continued to scream curses at Valentino making sure he hears you loud and clear.

He moved you to both yours bedroom moving you to your bed, “Vox-“Shh baby let us just lay here for a second” He interrupts you making you huff in frustration. You wrapped your arms around his neck anyway ms as he hugged your waist.

“I’m not gonna forget what he did, I’m actually gonna kill him” You stated making him chuckle.

“I’m sure he deserves it anyways baby” He stated with you. Putting his hands under your shirt before rubbing your back making you even more calm than usual.

“Your trying to distract me” You stated knowing he is because everytime your mad at Valentino or Velvette he would do more physical touch either in public or not. You loved his touch maybe that’s why it was easy for you to calm down usual you’ll use your lucid dreaming by now.

“It’s work isn’t it?” He smirked making you blush before sighing still thinking about your friend making Vox frown.

“I’ll tell Valentino to not hit his clients but I can’t guarantee it my darling” Vox mumbled making you smile again. He noticed it making him glad you’re happy again.

“Really? Thank you so much baby!” You said excitedly kissing him all over his face making him love the attention and affection.

“I’ll do anything for you absolutely anything” He said before kissing your lips before pulling you closer.

#vox x reader #alastor x demon reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #vox x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you

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inkspiredwriting · 2 months ago

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Chapter 5: A Complete Circle

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: That's it, the end of my little story. Let me know what you thought of it.

Warnings: none

The flight to Cape Town was tense. Max stared out the plane window, his mind racing with thoughts of Allison. Of all his siblings, she was the one he was most nervous about finding. Her memories, if they had returned, would be heavy—weighted with regret and betrayal.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Y/n asked softly, her hand brushing against his.

Max turned to her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Just... worried about Allison. If she remembers everything, it might be harder for her than it was for the others.”

Klaus leaned over from the next seat. “Oh, she’ll remember. And when she does, expect tears. Lots of tears. I might cry too, for solidarity.”

Luther, sitting across the aisle, rolled his eyes. “Klaus, not everything is a joke.”

Klaus feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that my humor is what holds this family together. Besides, Allison’s stronger than you think. She always has been.”

Max glanced at Viktor, who had been unusually quiet since joining them. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What do you think?”

Viktor shrugged, his voice soft. “I think... we need to be patient with her. She carried a lot of guilt back then. She might not want to face us.”

Y/n squeezed Max’s hand. “If she’s anything like the rest of you, she’ll come around. You just have to give her time.”

Finding Allison wasn’t as simple as walking into a bar or an orphanage. She worked with a nonprofit, and their first attempts to contact her were met with resistance. Eventually, they tracked her down at a shelter for women and children.

When they entered, they found her sitting on the floor, surrounded by children. She was reading a story, her voice soft and soothing.

Max’s chest tightened. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure how to approach her.

“Allison,” he said finally, his voice breaking the quiet.

She froze, the book slipping from her hands. Slowly, she turned to look at him. Her eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, this isn’t real. You’re not real.”

“Allison, it’s me,” Max said, stepping closer. “It’s Five. And they’re real too.”

Klaus stepped forward, his usual theatrics replaced by genuine warmth. “Hey, sis. Long time no see.”

Luther and Viktor stood silently, their eyes filled with hope and concern.

Tears streamed down Allison’s face as she stood, backing away slightly. “I... I can’t do this. I remember. I remember everything.”

Luther moved toward her, his voice gentle. “Allison, it’s okay. You don’t have to face this alone. We’re here for you.”

She shook her head, her voice trembling. “I hurt you. All of you. I used my power... I betrayed you. How can you forgive me for that?”

Max stepped forward, his tone firm but kind. “Because we’ve all made mistakes, Allison. We’ve all done things we regret. But this—us, here and now—is a second chance. Don’t throw it away because of the past.”

Klaus chimed in, his voice unusually sincere. “If we can forgive Five for being a little homicidal gremlin back in the day, we can forgive you too.”

Allison let out a shaky laugh, wiping her tears. “I don’t know if I deserve this.”

“You do,” Viktor said quietly. “We all do.”

She looked at each of them, her gaze lingering on Max. “You really believe that?”

Max nodded. “I do.”

Finally, Allison took a deep breath and stepped forward, pulling them all into a hug. “Okay,” she said softly. “Okay.”

Their next stop was Seoul. By now, the group felt like a team again, their banter and camaraderie slowly returning. Klaus joked about teaching the others yoga, while Luther insisted they try his meatball recipe.

When they arrived at Sea World, it felt almost surreal. Ben was there, feeding Octopuses in a tank, his movements precise and focused.

“Is that... our Ben?” Allison asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Yeah,” Max said. “That’s him.”

Klaus didn’t wait for introductions. He ran toward Ben, shouting, “BENNY BOY!”

Ben looked up, startled, and nearly dropped the bucket of Sea snails and shrimps. When he saw Klaus, his eyes widened, and he stumbled back.

“Klaus? Is this... real?”

“It’s real!” Klaus said, pulling him into a tight hug. “And look, we brought the whole gang!”

Ben’s eyes scanned the group, his face a mix of shock and joy. “I thought... I thought I was going crazy. I kept seeing things, remembering things.”

“We all did,” Max said, stepping forward. “You’re not alone.”

Ben hesitated, then smiled. “You have no idea how good it is to see you all.”

Their final stop was Mexico. Tracking Diego was relatively simple, thanks to Max’s contacts in his special unit. When they found him, he was in the middle of an undercover operation.

Diego turned sharply when the door to the apartment opened, his knife already in hand. When his eyes landed on Max, his expression darkened.

“You, I was hoping you were just a figment of my imagination, but you’re real.” he spat, crossing the room in quick strides. Before Max could react, Diego punched him square in the face.

Y/n gasped, rushing forward. “What the hell? Why did you just hit him?”

Max stumbled back, rubbing his jaw. “Nice to see you too, Diego.”

Diego glared at him, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Didn’t your boyfriend tell you, lady? He had an affair with my wife. Or then-wife. Whatever.”

Y/n froze, her eyes wide as she turned to Max. “What is he talking about?”

Max sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s complicated.” He looked at Diego. “I’m sorry, okay? I thought I’d explained everything back then, but clearly not enough.”

Diego’s voice was sharp. “Oh, you explained plenty. But being stuck in a timeline doesn’t excuse what you did.”

Y/n’s voice was cold. “You were stuck in a timeline? With his wife?”

Max nodded, his tone careful. “Seven years. We thought we’d never make it back. I… I made a mistake, Y/n. I thought I loved her, but it wasn’t real.”

Diego snorted. “Real or not, you don’t betray your family.”

The room fell silent. The tension was thick until Max finally spoke, his voice firm. “I know. And I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, Diego. I just… I just want us to be a family again.”

Diego folded his arms. “You think we can just pick up where we left off? We weren’t even a real family to begin with.”

“Family isn’t about blood,” Luther interjected. “It’s about being there for each other. And no matter what happened before, we’re here now.”

Diego’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

Y/n stepped closer to Max, her expression softening. “You’ve changed, haven’t you?”

Max nodded. “I have. And I don’t want to lose the people who matter most to me again.”

That night, in their hotel room, Y/n was unusually quiet. Max sat beside her on the bed, taking her hand.

“Talk to me,” he said softly.

She looked at him, her eyes searching his. “I just… I didn’t know this part of you. I thought I knew everything.”

Max sighed. “There’s a lot I don’t remember clearly, but I know I was lonely. I gave up hope, Y/n. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, so I made choices I’m not proud of. But what I had with Lila... it wasn’t love. Not like this. Not like us.”

Y/n studied him for a long moment before leaning into him. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I believe you.”

The next day, the siblings and Y/n spent the day together, sharing memories and laughter. For the first time, the weight of their pasts seemed lighter.

And as the sun set over Mexico City, the siblings sat together on a rooftop terrace, laughter and warmth filling the air. Y/n sat close to Max, her hand on his arm, while Klaus stretched lazily in his chair, sunglasses still perched on his nose.

“This is new,” Klaus said with a grin. “A family reunion without anyone throwing a chair. Progress.”

Luther chuckled. “It feels different this time.”

Max nodded. “Because it is. we’re not those same people anymore. We’ve all been given a fresh start, and we’ve all found our own paths, but finding each other again? That’s something worth holding onto.”

Diego leaned forward. “So, what? Weekly Zoom calls?”

Allison smiled. “Why not? We can make the effort.”

“I’m in,” Viktor added. “We don’t have to give up our lives for this. We can have both.”

Raising his glass, Max smiled. “To us. To second chances. And doing it right this time.”

The others followed suit, clinking their glasses together. For the first time in years—or maybe lifetimes—they felt like a family again. They promised to stay in touch, to keep this bond alive.

And this time, they knew it would be different.

As he and Y/n sat back on the plane to Dublin, she turned to him with a small smile. “Do you feel complete now?”

He nodded, his hand clasping hers. “For the first time in a long time, I do.”

The End.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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kitschykarcass · 24 days ago

Text

Gauze

(or Peter Parker is a hot mess and Tony is there to comfort him)

Shocked was one word to describe how Tony felt.

He knew that Peter was going to be later than usual because of a dentist appointment but Peter failed to mention that it was not your usual cleaning and check-up.

The uncommon quiet following the opening of the elevator doors is what first drew Tony’s attention away from his current blueprint and towards the slightly pathetic looking boy.

Said boy, walked off the elevator into the lab, bloody gauze in mouth.

Tony took a second to look him over before speaking.

“What the hell happened Pete? I thought you were just getting your teeth cleaned!”

“It’s not a big deal.”

As Peter spoke, he visibly struggled to get the words out and keep the spit in. Tony, of course, noticed, his frustration with the boy only growing.

“For the protege of the world’s most famous genius, you aren’t too bright are you.”

Despite his limited facial control, Peter managed to make his offense visible.

Tony in turn, raised his eyebrows before responding.

“Come one P, you really, genuinely believe that is not a big deal. You have blood on your shirt.”

Peter looked down then and clearly noticed the stain for the first time and let out a small displeased whine.

“What the hell did they even do to you?”

Peter repositions the gauze before answering.

“They took out one of my teeth, it was infected."

At that, Tony closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths to compose himself.

“You had a tooth infection so bad it had to be pulled and you didn’t think to tell me?”

While he said it, Tony could help but think that he sounded like a disappointed father.

Peter turned his stare downwards and mumbled back:

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

"Peter..."

Tony let out a sigh while rubbing at temples.

“...you aren’t bothering me by telling me what is happening in your life. I need to know these things. If I knew about this, I would have told you to take the day and rest, maybe send some ice cream to your apartment. I would never be bothered.”

Peter doesn’t respond, Tony still unable to see his face.

“Once you are feeling better, we’re going to have a conversation about you lacking the ability to take care of yourself. That sounds like a plan?"

He pauses a moment, waiting for a reply

All he gets is a series of small sniffles.

“Alrighty, enough of that. Let’s get you over the couch.”

He reaches out to grab Peter’s upper arm and guide him towards a small living room set that Pepper insisted he get for the lab.

The kind gesture is the last straw for Peter and he bursts into tears the second Tony's hand touches his arm.

Tony remains surprisingly calm in light of the sudden outpouring of emotion. He rubs Peter’s shoulder gently while guiding him to the couch.

Peter sits down cautiously, clearly afraid of moving too suddenly and causing more discomfort. Tony joins him and pulls him into a tight hug.

They stay like that for a while, Tony rubbing soothing circles on Peter's back as he lets out all the feelings from the undoubtedly miserable day.

Neither says anything until they pull apart.

To Tony’s surprise, it is Peter who speaks first. Although, he can hardly hear it from the muffling of the gauze.

“I don’t feel good Mr. Stark.”

“Oh buddy.” Is all Tony can manage to say before Peter is crying again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Everything is okay.” They are back to hugging again, both having stopped caring about the mix of snot, silva, and blood getting on their clothes.

Eventually, they pull themselves apart, Tony breaking the silence this time.

“How about you lay down and we can watch something together? If you’re up for it, I can still get you that ice cream too.”

That draws a small smile from Peter.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That would be nice.

Eeeeekkkk, this is my first fanfic! It isn't the best thing ever but I am trying to put myself out there more. I hope you enjoy!

#fanfic #irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #hurt/comfort #peter parker is a mess #first fanfic

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oldwritingm · 1 year ago

Note

Hiiiii! <3 been scrolling through your Ninjago masterlist and I saw there was no HC/drabble/fanfic about a reader who has a culture (or I'm just blind and didn't see it T~T ) anywho, it made me think....I hadn't seen any head cannon of reader x ninja (+ pixal my baby✨) who the reader had a Portuguese culture (and I'm just deprived to see no Portuguese babies in there).

Just the basic stuff like speaking the language, or the food? The habit? I don't know how to explain but it's not something really in research or deep, just the basic stuff.

Here some ideas to help ya if you got no idea ! <3 :

-men usually shake hands with men as a greeting

-we usually smile to anyone and anything in politeness

-We do small talks with anyone, also a sign of politeness

- family events are a somewhat must

-we like to dress nicely (sometimes fancy) to meet family

-PDA is appreciated and somewhat encouraged in public

Etc...

Also, if you feel like you can't write it because it's too complicated, ten thank you for reading! ✨

Of course!!! I really hope this turned out okay ^^ I’ll admit that I didn’t really know too much about this culture beforehand, so please let me know if I’ve gotten anything wrong!! It was fun to do research though, super interesting stuff!!

Ninjago - Ninjas With a Portuguese s/o

Cole

He LOVES hanging out with your family

Ever since he reconciled with his dad, he’s realized just how important family is

So of course he admires your family’s closeness!

Whenever you invite him along to a family function, he’s already putting on his shoes and a nice button-up shirt

He makes sure that you approve of his clothes before you leave

He has an okay sense of fashion, but he just wants to make sure his outfit isn’t inappropriate for the occasion or anything

He’s always super careful to make sure he doesn’t offend your family

Sometimes it’s kind of cute to watch him balk or scramble to correct himself

Even your family finds it amusing

Of course, he’s never actually said something offensive, but he’s still super cautious

He also just tries to have fun and get along with your family!

They adore him ofc, he’s the perfect balance between respectful and friendly

As time goes on, they start to ask where Cole is when you show up to family gatherings alone

You have to explain that sometimes he just can’t make it, especially because of his ninja responsibilities

That’s another reason they love him btw; he has the coolest stories

And he’s a great listener to their stories in return! :)

Jay

He is ALL OVER the PDA thing

He’s a very physically affectionate person, whether he likes to admit it or not

Actually, it was you and your family that helped him realize this

Of course he likes being affectionate with you, but he learns to be affectionate with others too

It started when one of your friends/family members gave him a hug

He was really stiff and awkward at first, but after it was over he realized how warm and fuzzy he felt

From then on he was hooked

He immediately transformed into this super affectionate person

Not just with your family/friends, either; he starts being super affectionate to his family/friends too

The other ninjas tease him about it at first, but he doesn’t care

He’ll hold hands, hug, sit shoulder-to-shoulder, anything that involves touch

He just LOVES being able to show his affection like that!! So much easier than words

(I headcanon that he’s not very good with words when it comes to showing love)

And he loves having the favor returned! (By you or your family/friends)

Makes him feel accepted :)

Congrats, you’ve found a way to finally validate our anxious boy

Honestly he might get a bit carried away with it, so beware

Zane

Zane’s more of an explicit learner than an implicit one when it comes to social culture

(Meaning he can’t really pick up on cues; you’ll have to verbalize things)

So you’ll have to explain your culture to him

But he really loves hearing you talk about it!!

His eyes literally sparkle while you speak

For one, because no one’s ever done him the favor of actually explaining social culture

But also because he can see how important it is to you, and he thinks you’re positively lovely when you’re impassioned

He’ll remember every word, and do his best to practice what you preach

Sometimes it comes off as mechanical or forced (it kind of is), but he gets the hang of it the more he practices

And he’s eager to get practice, which means…

More family time!!

Though it does make him nervous, he likes being around your family so he can practice your teachings and learn more

Your family probably thinks he’s a little odd, but he’s got the right spirit

Being accepted by them would be so validating for him… like all his hard work paid off

AND he’d be close to the people who are important to you!! Double win

Lloyd

He’s another one who really likes being physically affectionate

He’s a huge cuddle bug; this we know

So when he learns that he can hug your friends/family too, not just you, he takes the opportunity

(He still loves you the most, of course, he just likes showing others some love)

It’s mainly the hugs that he likes

Hand holding is a bit uncomfortable when it’s not you, but he won’t reject a hand he’s offered

Cheek kisses are great though :]

He always gets this dorky shy smile whenever someone (especially you) kisses him on the cheek, even if it’s just a greeting/goodbye

It takes everything in him not to giggle like a schoolgirl when he gives one back (for the first little while, anyway)

At first he was a bit awkward giving kisses back, but he warms up to the practice pretty quickly

He used to be just a cuddle bug in private, but by the time you’re done with him he casually practices PDA like it’s nothing

Kai

I’m going to be so honest with you rn. He is going to struggle with the politeness thing

As much as he tries to be cordial and put things gently, if he’s mad that’s all going out the window

If, for whatever reason, you or your friend/family member sets him off, he’s not going to waste his energy on being nice

Cold stares and crossed arms are the least of it; consider yourself lucky if that’s what he does

At the worst…. Be ready to hold this man back

This is pretty rare though, he does try really hard to stay positive

On the topic of trying hard, though, he’s really worried about your family liking him

He knows how important they are to you and he wants to be liked by them

So he’ll always try his hardest to control his temper and follow their polite customs

Unfortunately you will have to be the outfit police when it comes to family gatherings, though

His idea of “nice clothes” is very different from the actual definition

Like, you’re expecting a nice button up and slacks, then he comes out in a tank top and varsity jacket and jeans ripped like he got into a motorcycle crash

He is devastated to learn that, no Kai, those are not appropriate clothes

He’ll still change though, dw

And he’ll be happy about it if/when one of your family members compliments his outfit :)

Nya

Ohhh man….. she LOVES learning about your culture

She wants to know all the details

And she’ll go beyond what you tell her; she’ll do her own research

She’s super eager to test out what she’s learned

She impresses your family first try

Especially because she’s so eager to listen to them

She grows really close with your family, and she secretly starts to consider them an extension of hers

Totally not because she was raised with little to no actual family

She will cry if they start to think the same of her

It might be a little weird for you, with her being so enthusiastic to partake in your customs, but she’ll cut back if you let her know it’s weird

She’s just so excited to learn, especially about something that involves you :(

And she’ll be happy to teach you about her culture in return!

(I headcanon that she’s Chinese :) so if you’re interested she’s glad to share)

Overall she’s just super enthusiastic and supportive regarding your culture!!

She will fight anyone who isn’t

Thank you for this request!! And thanks so much for reading, take care doves <33

(divider by saradika)

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warping-realities · 1 year ago

Text

Keeping Up With Old Friends (by the best of all @dumb-and-jocked & @callmecallmecrazy

It's a great pleasure to make images for this collaboration between two of my favorite authors. I had permission from both of them to do this and I spent a considerable amount of time trying to be up to par with their work, I don't know if I managed it but I still hope it's to your liking.

“Phil? Is that you?” Geoff could’ve sworn the man in front of him was an old classmate of his, having been lab partners their freshman year. The two had connected fairly well, with Geoff having hung out with the free-thinking, pot-smoking, curly-haired flower child a lot more than he thought he would. Except, scruffy and shaggy Phil was replaced with tailored-beard and straightened-locks Phil. Not only that, but his usual oversized hoodie and sweats had been replaced with a properly fit tee and jeans.

“Geoff! Hey man, how’s it going.” His voice was still the same lively and flamboyant pitch that it had always been. Phil met his friend in a hug over the cash register, squeezing Geoff a little harder than he had been prepared for.

“Surprised to see you here,” Geoff half-joked, knowing that the old Phil would never come close to a shopping mall, let alone a department store. If the job wasn’t so easy and the pay wasn’t so good, Geoff wouldn’t have ever entered either. Too bad college was so expensive.

“Ha! Yeah man, turns out they have some good stuff! Plus, it’s close to where I live.”

“Oh, did you finally move out of the dorms?”

“Yeah, I moved into the Kappa Sigma Alpha house.” The big smile he offered was met by a wide-eyed stare from Geoff. Phil was a free spirit, one who practically came out of the ‘60s. Last they’d talked, he’d been planning on living at an eco-friendly miniature house, certainly not at “prespter-prick incorporated”.

“What happened to living green?”

“Ya know, I wanted a change.” Phil shoved his hands into his pockets. “Plus, college loans are really bringing me down. I needed to save some money and fast. My uncle got me an in with the fraternity; he’s an alum.”

“Aren’t they, like, totally pretentious?” Geoff countered. “We used to joke about those preppy freaks and their smug arrogance.”

Phil frowned, his expression made it seem as if he’d taken personal offense.

“Hey man, they’re cool. After my uncle had pointed out that I was a legacy, I got headhunted by the rush chair. I’m not one of those over-confident princes having yacht parties and spending time at the country club.” Geoff’s tense muscles eased a little, causing Phil to smile. “I don’t think they do that kinda stuff anymore anyway.”

He glanced at his phone, and then back at Geoff. Getting the message, Geoff quickly processed his items and had Phil pay. He was surprised to see Phil was buying more normal clothes. Cheap, standard tops and bottoms that were neither flamboyant or tame: just generic.

“Hey man, great seeing you,” Phil concluded the conversation politely. “Maybe we’ll hang out sometime? I gotta get back to the house!”

Geoff watched Phil walk out, noticing how well he filled out his jeans. The Phil he knew had been a short, skinny beanpole, similar to Geoff’s height but with less pudge. However, the new Phil’s buttocks had developed a sort of plumpness, just barely curving the pants out awkwardly as he walked away.

“That was so strange,” Geoff said aloud, but he assumed that people changed. Phil seemed happy and healthy, and as long as he was saving money Geoff was happy for him. Maybe he always wanted to join a frat?

For the rest of his shift, Geoff continued thinking about the peculiar interaction, but by the end of the day he was too exhausted to think about anything. Once he had gotten back to his dorm, he lethargically changed and jumped into his bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

— —

“Phil? Is that you?” The big man standing in front of the counter didn’t exactly physically resemble Phil. He was fairly big at about 5 ‘10 (a few inches taller than Phil) and the Henley shirt he wore couldn’t hide the beginnings of bulging pecs. And his hair, last time uncoiled but still at shoulder-length, was sheared down, pushed up, and shiny from cheap gel. The face was still the same, even though the hair made his face look a little square.

The young man looked back at Geoff confused for a moment before a tinge of understanding glittered in his eyes.

“Geoff Elliot,” his voice was noticeably slower and deeper than last time. While Geoff went in for a hug, Phil replied with a one-armed embrace and pat on the back. He practically grimaced when Geoff attempted for more affection.

“Phil! Man, it’s been awhile. I haven’t seen you since your last time here.”

“Yes, Geoff, I’ve been very busy with school. And please, call me Phillip, it’s more traditional.”

“Wow, still living with the Kappa Sigmas?”

“Yes, I’ve been acquainting very well. What about you, Geoff?”

“Oh ya know, I’m still in old Walker. It isn’t great, but it’s definitely got a sweet spot in the middle of campus.”

“Living comfortably?”

“Ha, you know I’m not.”

“I can tell,” Phillip noted Geoff’s pale skin and tired eyes. Geoff was taken aback by the outright disdain.

“Well, I’ve got to work if I want to get a degree.” Phillip just nodded, causing Geoff to carry the conversation. “You’re looking good. Do the Kappa Sigmas expect gym time?”

“Yes,” Phillip’s stern demeanor dropped a touch, allowing a bit more levity in his voice. “There’s an expansive gym at the country club. It’s free and they even give you a few hours a day to use it!”

He was practically giddy as he talked, allowing Geoff to relax a bit. This was the Phil he knew, chirpy and friendly though now not as exceptionally outgoing. And if Geoff was being honest, Phil seemed extremely content with his new situation.

“Have you picked up any sports? It seems like you’ve got the bod now,” Geoff joked, knowing that Phil hated physical activity. He playfully slapped one of Phil’s broad shoulders and was shocked at how firm the muscle was.

“I’ve been doing a lot of golf! I play with several of the other guys and even some of my uncle’s coworkers. I’m getting my handicap down too.”

“Oh, you’re playing golf?” Geoff hadn’t expected an answer, but if one came he would’ve guessed football or baseball–not golf.

“Yes, it’s very enjoyable. And great for business bonding. Chance for us men to talk about the frat, women, sports and the like. Say, you watch the game last weekend?”

That was wholly unlike Phil, but Geoff guessed he was probably throwing himself into the fraternity world.

“Nah, man, I’m not into basketball.”

“It’s football season.” His reply was so direct and unvarnished that Geoff had to grip the counter for support. “I know not everyone is into the NFL, but I assumed you would at least watch like any other man. And our team is having an exceptionally great season. 4-0 in conference play.”

Phillip kept talking about football as Geoff stared deep into his eyes. Was this really Phil? The guy used to pretend like he didn’t know what sports were. What was happening to him?

“Anyway, Geoff, it’s been great catching up,” Phillip said, dumping his items onto the register. Geoff was surprised to notice that Phil was purchasing only name brand items. Not expensive, but not generic either. “Maybe we can grab some beers and watch a game sometime.”

Phillip hastily paid for all of his items and walked out. Geoff couldn’t help but notice the increasingly larger derrière. His buttocks had developed a shelf-like quality, curving the cheap khakis out as he walked away. Its slight jiggling motion was a stunning contrast to the hard muscle covering the rest of his body.

“Yeah, great to see you Phil-lip,” Geoff forced out the last syllable. This was not the Phil he knew, but instead some dude named Phillip. Geoff continued on with the rest of his shift, the interaction slipping from his mind at the end of the day when he collapsed into bed.

— —

“Phil? Is that you? I mean, Phillip?” Geoff had hoped he wouldn’t see him again after their last encounter, but when he saw this barely-familiar-looking man his curiosity got the best of him. He told himself it was all in his head, but everything about these encounters were disturbing. Geoff wasn’t sure if it was steroids as his former buddy’s growth seemed extremely quick, but it could’ve just been the sudden makeover too. What was even crazier was the man next to him was somehow larger.

This Phillip was 6’4 and wore a baby blue oxford button-up with a yellow and blue striped repp tie. The shirt looked ready to burst as it was tight against the two firm mounds sticking out of the young man’s chest. On top of the set was a two-button navy blazer with the letters KE on the left side, which Geoff assumed stood for Kappa Sigma. His hair was much different, for the overgrown shag was now neatly cut, with short sides and tapered across the crown. The ivy league was sharply parted on the left side and held sturdily in place by an expensive looking pomade. Not only had his hair transformed, but his face had undergone a dramatic change too. His jaw, formerly a little pointed and sharp, spread wide and hung low, giving his face a distinguished lantern shape to match his newly-cleft chin.

This Phillip stood ramrod straight while searching through a rack of new suits from Brooks Brothers. The man next to Phillip was older but otherwise nearly identical. He was thicker around the middle, but any gut he might have was hidden by the extremely high rise of his pants, sitting above his belly button just under the rib cage. His tie was black and grey with a subtle windowpane pattern, and his suit shared a similar palette.

The other man stared at Geoff for a moment before tapping Phillip on the shoulder.

“Pierson,” his voice was slow and deep. “I believe this boy is trying to get your attention.”

The younger man turned towards the counter to see Geoff. A faint bit of recognition crossed his face momentarily.

“Geoff Elliot.” The voice was practically monotone, low and deep. He took a few powerful steps forward and offered a large, coarse handshake.

“Uncle,” Phillip turned to face the older man. “This is a friend from college, Geoff Elliot. Geoff, this is my uncle.” He gestured robotically between the two. The uncle offered his hand and it was the same rough shake.

“Nice to meet you…” Geoff sort of trailed off, hoping to get a first name.

“John Howard Johnson.” The reply was colorless. “Mr. Johnson will do.”

“Alright,” Geoff simply replied. “So, Phillip-”

“Please call me Pierson,” Phillip said curtly. “My uncle thinks I would be better suited professionally as Pierson.” The way he spoke, extremely even in both rhythm and pitch, was unnerving.

Geoff could make out some of Phil’s features in the hulking face before him. An upturned nose and naturally thin eyebrows over wide eyes resembled the Phil he knew. But the rest of the face clearly belonged to this cocky fratboy named Pierson.

“Okay, Pierson. So, any news about Greek Life?”

“I am very happy with the Kappa Sigmas. Life there is perfectly preppy.”

“That’s great. Glad to hear you’re doing good!”

“Yes, my uncle believes after college I will be an ideal candidate for his company, Hemplebaum Inc..”

“That place downtown with office drones filling foreclosures and manipulating bank accounts?”

“Correct,” Pierson stated blatantly.

“Huh, okay.” Geoff was getting sick of this conversation, and of this act. There was obviously something going on here, so he decided to just ask about it flat out.

“How long are you going to keep this up, Phil?”

“Pierson.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Geoff retorted. He knew it probably wasn’t best to argue with customers during his shift, but this was more important than a job. “How are you willing to sell your soul to some frat? We used to joke about these guys! Can’t you see something is wrong?”

“I’m offended by your tone, Geoff. And honestly,” he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves while disgustingly eyeing Geoff’s uniform. “I grew up. You could do with some growing.”

“You’ve grown into a mindless fratboy.”

“And you, Geoff, are still a child. We ‘mindless fratboys’ are very well groomed and dressed. We speak with clarity and courtesy, and are diligent and helpful. We truly represent the apex of manhood.”

“Pierson,” Mr. Johnson suddenly interrupted the argument. Pierson stiffened up and faced his uncle. “I’m glad you had this chance to catch up with your acquaintance, but we have wasted time.”

“Of course, Uncle.”

They turned to leave, but Pierson swiftly reached into a blazer pocket and pulled out a thick black card.

“If you ever decide to grow up.” Pierson placed it on the register before he and his uncle left, giving Geoff a good look at their backsides. Despite the broad shoulders and bulging pectorals, both had a distinctly pear shaped body, with wide hips and massive butts that shook just a touch as they walked. Pierson’s rump was especially luscious, bouncing around inside those tight, pastel madras shorts. It gave Geoff a boner as he watched it wiggle. Sure, the man was the monster that replaced his old friend, but he had to admit the new douchebag look was kind of hot.

Geoff grabbed the card from the counter and examined it. It was a thick card stock and slightly textured with the Greek letters obnoxiously large in one corner. Right in the middle read “Pierson Buckley Folsom VI,” infuriating Geoff. That was absolutely not his last name, in fact none of those were his names! Had he changed his entire personality to fit in with these people? Had Phil been putting on a fake persona the entire time he was in college? Was this who he truly was? Geoff calmed himself down before reasoning that the name changing was a deeper sign. This whole thing had become so ridiculous he couldn’t just ignore it. He’d have to do some investigating.

— —

“This is Pierson Buckley Folsom VI.”

Geoff didn’t actually want to go through with his plan, but he had to make an attempt. If he could insert himself safely into this Pierson’s friend group, he might just be able to figure out what happened to Phil. Sure, Geoff wasn’t really built for the whole undercover thing, but he owed it to his old friend. Plus, Geoff knew if he let the matter sit, it would just continue to haunt him.

“Hey, Pierson. This is Geoff.”

“Hello Geoff, how may I assist you?” He was already straight to the point.

“Well, you know I was thinking about what you said back in the mall. Growing up and all that stuff.”

“Ah,” Pierson’s stale voice came from the other end. “I assume you are interested in becoming a Kappa Sigma then?”

“Yes.” Geoff swallowed before continuing, “I would like to become a Kappa Sigma.”

“If that is so,” Pierson began monotonously. “We have a rush event this weekend at the Rolling Acres Country Club. Come golfing this weekend, I know you will enjoy it.”

“That sounds exciting!” It totally did not. He did not want to go to a rush event in the most posh, expensive neighborhood in the city. “What do I need to wear? I’m sure they have a dress code.”

“Meet me at the Kappa Sigma house before. I will have appropriate clothing.”

“Sounds good, thank you for your help, Pierson.”

“You are welcome, Geoff.”

And just like that, the plan was in motion. This weekend, Geoff would be infiltrating enemy territory, so it was now time to do some research. He didn’t want to be suspicious, but as far as he could tell, the only person who thought something was amiss was him.

— —

The Kappa Sigma Alpha house was a well-built, classic home that looked like it belonged in Connecticut or somewhere else classy. The elegant mansion was extremely large, just like all of its brothers. It was so huge in fact that it had a room strictly dedicated for watching football, and that wasn’t even the media room! According to Pierson, there was a room with a movie projector on another floor. The football room was just a man cave according to him, except it was a sunlit, high-ceilinged game room. It was about five times bigger than the dorm Geoff was currently living in, which was only half the size of Pierson’s room.

When Pierson had answered the door, he was dressed in a full monochromatic suit.

Geoff had expected something more casual, so he was wearing a faded pair of khakis and a plaid button-up. Geoff’s bulkier counterpart was intensely embarrassed by his attire and insisted he put on one of his old suits. Geoff thought about protesting, but instead allowed it. He fit quite well in it, as Pierson’s old suit was from Phil’s era. Geoff hated the whole dress-up ordeal, but he needed to fit in as much as possible, and to do that he would have to do everything Pierson said.

“Are we going golfing in suits?” Geoff asked innocently, unsure if they’d actually be participating in the sport.

“That’s absurd!” Pierson remarked, his tone just barely leaving its usual flat level as he dodged the question. “We will be changing at the club.”

Geoff couldn’t imagine how most people showed up dressed like this, but he would do whatever made Pierson comfortable. And apparently, the change had been necessary. After they got past the gate and into the main clubhouse, every man he passed had a tie on. Some of the brothers were already dressed in polos and khaki shorts, with the color of their outfits being the only way Geoff could figure out who was who. After Pierson had checked them in for the rush event, they headed to the lockers to change. Once the two had stripped, Pierson handed Geoff a small white piece of fabric. Geoff was horrified to find it was a pair of whitey-tighties, completely generic besides a tiny logo and a thin, blue line running through the band.

“What,” Geoff asked. “Dude, seriously?”

“All of us wear them,” Pierson blatantly stated, showing how he had stripped down to his own. Geoff had only noticed Pierson’s behind before, but now he took his chance to examine the whole body. Pierson was thick from below his pecs down to his butt, no real waistline. The holes for the legs in Pierson’s briefs clung tightly to his thighs, making the curve of his extremely wide buttocks stand out. His bulge was extremely pronounced too, pushing the briefs to their limit. Everything about Pierson was just so big nowadays, his proportions practically comic level. He looked good.

Knowing he had to do it, Geoff quickly stepped into the briefs. The briefs made their way up both of his legs and finally began to engulf his private regions. He pulled the waistband up and let them sink into place. The bright, white fabric comfortably held his body from the tip-top of thighs to just above his pubic bush.

“Let me help you with those.”

Pierson glided over to Geoff and dutifully pulled the briefs higher, a lot higher. Geoff’s belly button was now completely hidden, giving him a slight wedgie and his small package an even smaller moose knuckle. His flat bottom seemed more vertical than ever, and his 3-inch soft dick was nowhere near whatever Pierson was packing. Geoff should have been in pain, he should have been protesting, but something had subtly changed inside of him. The moment was deceptively erotic, something overly-personal but seemingly inconsequential that he was giving up to fit in. The look of disgust he originally had on his face had faded away, replaced with a simple, charming smile.

With that done, Pierson handed Geoff some pink Bermuda shorts and a blue polo, each made of a stretchy and breathable material.

“You sure these are mine?” Geoff asked, noticing that the sizes were much too large. “I’m not sure I’ll fit.”

“I’m certain we’re the same size, Geoff.” Pierson replied, putting on his own set. The striped Hampton Lime polo he wore beautifully accentuated his pectoral shelf and–after being tucked into some tight cobalt Bermuda shorts–his blooming muscle gut. Geoff didn’t actually know the names of the hues, Pierson had strictly informed him beforehand. Pulled up to rest just below Pierson’s brief’s waistband, the shorts were held up by a fashionable belt that Geoff knew had a price tag with at least 3 digits. The shorts not only continued to advertise Pierson’s laughably large bottom, but also displayed powerful calves that looked as if they were stolen from a marble statue.

Although Pierson was certain they were the same size, they most certainly were not. Geoff was not surprised when his outfit failed to fit. The belt he had barely kept the shorts from falling, and even though the shirt was tucked in, it still draped over him more like a curtain. Unlike the briefs that had fit perfectly, the clothes were meant for a man much larger than him. A fraternity brother.

The final pieces were short, plain white socks and a pair of large golf shoes. Once again, Pierson had insisted the two were the same size, but Geoff knew his feet would never fit in the Size 14 giants. Even after tying the tightest knot he could, the shoes were still fairly roomy and loose, causing Geoff to focus intensely on every step in hopes of not tumbling over. Sighing in defeat, he noticed a small emblem on one of his socks, the same he had seen before on the briefs. He checked the other sock, and then also found it on his polo over the left breast. Deciding it couldn’t hurt, Geoff inquired about it.

“I don’t think I recognize this brand,” he started. “Are we wearing Ralph Lauren?”

“Not exactly,” Pierson replied, who had also finished getting dressed. “It’s a partner brand of Polo Ralph Lauren that made an exchange with the Carmichael Corporation. Apparently some financial deal.”

“What is the Carmichael Corporation?”

“They are an investing partner with Hemplebaum. The two often work together on acquisition projects. The event today is co-hosted by both companies. A lot of Kappa Sigma Alpha’s alum actually work at the companies, as the pair and the fraternity are continually functioning together. Almost like a cycle, I assume.” Pierson chuckled at that.

“I see.” Geoff smiled at the new piece of evidence. Not only did he just find that a company was in on the ordeal, but three. There was definitely something peculiar about this “financial deal,” and whatever these Hemplebaum and Carmichael organizations were, they had to be behind the disappearance of Phil.

The two then made their way out to the course. A plethora of young, muscular men and older counterparts were already golfing away, chatting merrily about subjects Geoff knew he had no interest in. Stocks and economical talk were topics that were unsurprisingly extremely boring. Pierson made sure to introduce as many people as he could as they walked along, and Geoff made sure to mentally write down each suspect in his head.

There was Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV from Carmichael, a man slightly older than the pair but identical in size and manner to Pierson. He was wearing a violet polo, docksiders, and light gray madras shorts. Then there was Henderson Harold Hearst from Hemplebaum; he shared the same age and exaggerated proportions with Pierson’s uncle, Mr. Johnson, who was also there. He was wearing a white sports polo, black golf cap, and a pair of golf trousers that somehow expanded over his massive thighs, showing off Mr. Hearst’s thick trunks and amble, jiggly buttocks that pressed generously backwards.

There were a plethora of other businessmen that were also introduced to Geoff along the way. Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr. from Carmichael; Emerson Foley Gillingham-Smyth from Carmichael; Rotterham Casper Cornelius Southard from Hemplebaum; John Millard Koehler III from Carmichael. All the titles and accentuated names made Geoff’s head want to explode, but he hadn’t even met a quarter of the populus yet. There were still all the Kappa Sigma boys with names like Thurston F. Walbridge IV, Wyndham Judge Kilbourn V, and Hunt Johnstonbough. Geoff couldn’t understand how people remembered all of these obsessive, extensive, and money-grubbing men and their names. All of the businessmen and fraternity brothers were just a bunch of wealthy blockheads.

A sharp, static shock zipped inside of Geoff’s high-waisted briefs, causing him to pause momentarily. The shock sent a signal up his anus and tickled his prostate ever so slightly. In his head, Geoff immediately reevaluated his previous thoughts. These men weren’t obsessive, they were just clean-cut and well-maintained. And their names weren’t extensive and money-grubbing, they were traditional, conservative, and sumptuous. These corrections brought a cordial smile to Geoff’s face. Only now noticing he had stopped walking, Geoff jogged to catch back up to Pierson, causing his slightly-larger buttocks to gingerly bob.

As they walked out onto the course, golf bags strapped across their backs, Geoff could see a tall figure in the distance seeming to greet them with a small wave. Pierson returned the gesture amiably.

“Who’s that?”

“Prescott Neilson Powers IV. I invited him to play with us. Prescott is the Kappa Sigma rush chair. ”

“You invited the rush chair?”

“Prescott, yes. He’s been a close friend since I attended preparatory school, you should know that, Geoff.”

Geoff did not know this, as Pierson hadn’t existed less than a semester ago.

“I thought you would get on quite well. Besides, he’s on good terms with many important people. If you want to join the fraternity brotherhood, no one is a better connection.”

Prescott was in stretchy plum-colored golf trousers, a ballcap with the KE logo sitting proudly on the front, and a smoky-gray polo exactly like the ones they were wearing. Geoff had a bit of a shock realizing how much Prescott looked like Pierson. His body filled out the polo tremendously with broad shoulders, baseball-like biceps, and a thick but strong core. He also had that overly-wide posterior that led into legs and calves formed by deadlifts and deep squats. His hair–which was sheared down into a practically flat bit of black hair, shiny and parted–was the only noticeable difference between the two, but otherwise Geoff might have mistaken the two for brothers or cousins.

“Greetings!” Prescott shook Pierson’s hand and pulled him in for a pat on the back. For his part, Pierson tensed up a bit but did not resist.

“Prescott Neilson Powers IV, this is Geoffrey Elliot. We had few classes together last year, and now he is interested in rushing.” Before Geoff could correct the error of his name, Prescott grabbed him into a similar handshake-to-hug.

“Pleasure to meet you, Geoffrey,” Prescott said calmly. “Well, let’s play.”

“Are we taking the cart?” Geoff asked, pointing to a line of white, polished golf carts. He really didn’t want to walk around the entire course. He hadn’t exerted that amount of physical energy since high school gym.

“Of course not!” Prescott and Pierson chortled before Prescott continued. “I’d figure us three needed to work less on our glutes and more cardio!” Prescott then reached out and gave both Pierson and Geoff hard butt slaps. Geoff wanted to object, but a momentarily jarring jolt from his briefs once again silenced him.

“We all know this will not be enough to alleviate that problem,” Pierson quipped as they made their way to the first hole. Geoffrey completely forgot what he was thinking about and followed with a polite smile, his shorts now tighter against his inflated rump.

Prescott was extremely friendly and a little physical. Upon learning that Geoffrey had never golfed, Prescott took it upon himself to teach him everything he could, resulting in him saddling up behind him to correct stance and form, but also jokingly pressing his crotch into Geoffrey’s butt and thrusting. The boys all laughed at the horseplay, with Geoffrey nervously trying to hide his boner. If he wanted to fit in around these traditional, conservative men, he’d have to be a lot more careful. Luckily, his member had softened before anyone noticed, returning to its previous 4-inches soft.

Geoffrey had a hard time hating Prescott and the Kappa Sigma brothers. Taking away all the pomp of politics and social structure, Prescott seemed to be an incredibly friendly alpha; the kind of guy who would be quarterback, homecoming king, and class president (all things Geoffrey learned Prescott was). Geoffrey began to recognize that all the Kappa Sigma, Carmichael, and Hemplebaum men had so many things in common. There were so many things about them that Geoffrey really liked. They were gorgeously male and embodied masculine sophistication. They were groomed and cleaned, polite and cheerful. They were such ideal men, what Pierson had called “perfectly preppy”.

“My girlfriend will literally do anything I ask, that’s how dedicated she is to me!” Prescott bragged in a slow but still gloating voice.

“She was always into you,” Pierson added.

“Yes, sir. Her dad’s super rich, one of the department managers at the Carmichael Corporation. He’s inundated with old money. But what about you?” Prescott got a mischievous glint as his eyes located Pierson’s crotch. “Are you getting those fellows ready? It is almost breeding season.”

“What does that mean?” Geoffrey inquired.

“Pierson Buckley Folsom VI here is getting married.”

“Congratulations!” Geoffrey replied enthusiastically, forgetting that Pierson hadn’t had a partner less than a month ago.

“Thank you. We’re finishing some final details; her mother is very specific. Sometimes, she acts as though I’m unworthy.”

“She cannot do better,” Prescott assured.

“She is a perfectly suitable spouse. I am very pleased with the situation,” Pierson affirmed before setting up his shot and launching the ball. He let out a whistle of appreciation as it landed in the green just a few feet away from the hole.

“Good shot,” Prescott and Geoffrey said simultaneously. Geoffrey hadn’t noticed his voice was beginning to imitate the other two’s, as it was now a little deeper and even-handed.

“Geoffrey, I know it’s late notice, but I hope you can at least attend the wedding. The club has strict guest limits and I’m running out of passes for nonmembers for the bachelor party.”

“Thank you, Pierson. I’m sure I can make it.”

Geoffrey didn’t want to attend for investigative purposes however, he just wanted to support his close friend Pierson.

“And if you join the fraternity and get your membership before, you can enjoy all the heterosexual fun.” Prescott winked at Geoffrey and snagged a nipple that was now stiffly pressed out from the polo. Geoffrey had somehow not felt the weight of his upper body before as he walked, as his chest now stuck out and increased his height by a few inches. Geoffrey should’ve cared more about his enlarged torso, but for some reason walking around with pecs straining a polo felt incredible, like a huge dose of testosterone had been injected into him.

After a few more rounds, the trio decided to take an intermission and head back to the club. The main ballroom at the Rolling Acres was a lively place stocked with booze and many other pompous and colossal-sized men. Before Geoffrey could figure out what was going on, Pierson and Prescott were already removing the caps from a collection of glass bottles and pouring multiple glasses full of amber liquid.

“Come on, sit,” Prescott instructed, slapping Geoffrey’s bottom before taking a seat. Originally, Geoffrey had intended on asking some analytical questions and refusing the drinks, but after a quick agonizing wince he discovered he didn’t want to upset his new friends, or the financial connections they represented. Taking a big swig of the liquid, he sat down in the chair, his increasingly wide and plump behind consuming nearly ¾ths of the extra wide seat.

“You’re getting pretty good at the trap shot, Pierson Buckley Folsom VI, ” Prescott toasted Pierson.

“You’re still better, Prescott Neilson Powers IV,” Pierson was already refilling his drink happily. The trio continued chatting until Pierson eventually excused himself to the toilet, leaving Geoffrey alone with a man he thought would have been detestable. But this afternoon was fun. He got a small knot in his stomach as Prescott turned to him with a viperous grin.

“Geoff? Geoff Elliot?” Prescott suddenly said, dropping his voice low. Geoffrey was confused for a moment, as he hadn’t thought of himself as Geoff in a while. It was almost shocking, but then he cautiously nodded yes.

“Please, call me Geoffrey, Prescott.”

“Oh, I will, Geoffrey,” he emphasized the name. “You look good, and I have to admit I was wrong about you, Geoffrey. When Pierson had said he had invited you, I did not think you would make it. But here you are: willing and able, and looking much better with the muscles might I add. These clothes have done wonders for you.”

“Thank you, Prescott. I am very happy spending time with the Kappa Sigma men and the alumni.” Prescott nodded and smiled as the robotic words left Geoffrey’s mouth. Geoffrey had been content with his answer, but he hadn’t processed the real meaning behind Prescott’s comment. Absentmindedly scratching his calf, he should’ve been surprised by the amount of fur that caught in his grip. It also should have shocked him how firm his muscles felt; the thick, robust quads and strong, sculpted forelegs now filled his salmon shorts appropriately. They were also helped by his waist, which had expanded out both in the pelvic and gluteal regions.

“I like having my fellow fraternity brothers around. It is truly a real lifetime bond, care to agree?” Geoffrey nodded as Prescott took another deep swig. “Something that really defines a man: who he is and who he’s going to be.”

Prescott then seemed to stare at Geoffrey curiously. For his part, Geoffrey had no idea what to say, and so stayed silent. “If I’d known this is who you were going to be, I’d have made sure you were my brother a long time ago. Of course, I knew Geoff, but not Geoffrey. Not big, strapping Geoffrey.”

“Yes,” Geoffrey stirred his glass and sat there.

“And I still have yet to meet whom you will become. You still have a ways to go until you have finished.”

“Finished?”

“The rush event, of course. You did not think it was over, did you? It is only a quarter past one you jester!” Prescott then grabbed Geoffrey’s head and gave him a playful noogie. The respectable man’s knuckles drove apart Geoffrey’s hair, causing the slightly-greasy afro to spill out a little more.

“Your hair has been a little off today,” Prescott noted. “Did you use enough pomade this morning?”

“Yes,” Geoffrey confirmed. “I believe I did.” He fixed his hair precariously, making sure all the edges were still held together like a helmet. Geoffrey liked his textured ivy league cut chipper yet sharp, just like the fine fellows of Kappa Sigma Alpha.

“Now, Geoffrey, what do you think Geoffrey is like in college?”

“I’m Geoffrey.”

“Correct, but these past few semesters you have not been. I just wonder what you wish you had done?”

“I wish I’d attended more sports games. I love football, and enjoy playing tennis and golf.” The answers had been installed in his head without him knowing.

“Splendid!”

“I’d want to have a group of men to watch sports with,” Geoffrey added.

“Indeed, every game we have an event at the house.”

Geoffrey stared at him with glassy eyes. He was confused. It seemed like Prescott wanted him to say something, but he could only shrug.

“Would have been nice.”

“I do hope you apply for the fraternity. The brotherhood would be a good fit for you.”

“I’ve really enjoyed myself so far,” Geoffrey admitted. “And the prospect of living in the manor is tantalizing.”

“Where are you living nowadays?”

“I have a dorm in Walker. It’s a heap, but I live alone.”

“Have you thought about living with other men? Such ideal, perfectly preppy men?”

“What?! No, I haven’t, I mean..” Geoffrey sputtered a little, not considering that factor in his infiltration plan. It seemed like a dream, to be surrounded by so many gaudy, haughty, and sexy men. After a momentary painful shudder, Geoffrey realized he would love to be surrounded by so many prosperous, presumptuous, and handsome brothers. Of course, his definition of handsome was a man who was traditional, well-heeled, and physically attractive to women. Geoffrey believed that men ought to align themselves to the only orientation, one where his 5-inch soft dick didn’t get aroused to the thought of other gentlemen.

“I’m not sure it’s right for me,” Geoffrey announced truthfully, authorizing a smirk from Prescott.

“It’s right for Geoffrey. For football-playing, fraternity brother, corporate shark Geoffrey.” Prescott smiled and got up from the table, ushering Geoffrey to follow him.

“If you become a brother, either the Carmichael Corporation or Hemplebaum will pay off your student debt as long as you work a year-long internship with them after you graduate. I can set you up.”

“Really?”

“I always support my Kappa Sigma Alpha brothers.” His impish grin was the only signal Geoffrey had before another blow to his bottom. After a little excruciating twitch, Geoffrey returned to reality, his voluminous buttocks still vibrating as they had now accumulated a soft layer of fat that made him even wider.

“Kappa Sigma Alpha, brothers strong, brothers long. Four years forged the lifetime bond!” Prescott chanted and stared at Geoffrey. Geoffrey hesitated, but his mind wanted it so bad. He wanted Prescott to like him, to be his brother. Geoffrey wanted to be one of the classy, dashing brothers.

“Kappa Sigma Alpha, brothers strong, brothers long. Four years forged the lifetime bond.” Prescott smiled as Geoffrey repeated the stanza back to him.

Pierson then showed up a moment later from behind them.

“What did I miss?”

“Just the rushing of our newest member here!”

“Newest member?” Pierson replied excitedly. “You are going to become a brother, Geoffrey?”

“I must!” Geoffrey replied eagerly. He wanted to become one of these perfectly preppy brothers, which kind of went against his reason for coming here in the first place. But, why was he here again? Was it not to be rushed? For some reason, Geoffrey felt like he was forgetting something, but it didn’t bother him enough to dwell on it. Any inappropriate memory of infiltration or distaste had been sapped from his increasingly cordial mind.

“That makes me so elated!” Pierson exclaimed. “Let us go find my uncle then, that way we can have him officiate the necessary forms.”

“If I can have a moment,” Geoffrey paused the celebration. “I would like to use the restroom.”

“Well…” Pierson hesitated.

“Of course!” Prescott gave a reassuring glance to Pierson, although Geoffrey didn’t know why. “Around the corner over yonder and then westbound. We will go retrieve Mr. Johnson while you alleviate.”

“My gratitude.” Not only had Geoffrey’s tone adopted the same deep, flat, and robotic tone, but his vocabulary slowly became much more sophisticated. As he strolled over to the restroom, Geoffrey now felt the weight of his body as he walked. He hadn’t noticed before, but he had settled out around 6’3 thanks to his extended limbs. His newly broadened shoulders filled out his dark periwinkle polo nicely. They made him feel like he took up the entire doorway as he entered the lavatory, and his big, wide stride made his butt and crotch kind of wiggle as he walked. He could feel the fabric of his salmon shorts tighten around his balls and release, then tighten on the other side. It was mildly arousing.

After taking a hearty leak, Geoffrey pulled his briefs back up above his belly button. It was deceptively erotic, something overly-personal but seemingly inconsequential that he was giving up to fit in. And that’s what he wanted after all, to fit in. Why be unique and different when one could be conventional, classical, and consistent? That’s why he had come here in the first place, because he wanted to be like these men. Geoffrey wanted to be a Kappa Sigma, and after that work at either the Carmichael Corporation or Hemplebaum.

Washing his hands in the sink, Geoffrey looked up and was very pleased to see the extremely handsome young man in front of him. He filled out his clothes almost to the point of bursting, from the Size 14 golf shoes to the Philadelphia blue polo. As he admired his form in the mirror, Geoffrey couldn’t help but brush the smooth-shaved line of his prominent jaw. He really could swear that his face had been almost heart-shaped, but now there was a distinctly hexagonal shape to the thing. Geoffrey was practically a hypermasculine parody: low brow, big nose, and wide jaw with a gigantic cleft chin: just like all the other men here.

Once he had finished appreciating his form, he exited the restroom and found Pierson, Prescott, and Mr. Johnson all chatting merrily. When they noticed his entrance, they immediately turned to allow him into the conversation.

“What can I do for you, Geoffrey?” Mr. Johnson asked. Geoffrey tried to find a concise answer for that question, but found that impossible.

“I want to become a Kappa Sigma and work with business and finance after graduation. I want every piece of advice you can give me.”

“Why is that?” Mr. Johnson was suppressing a smug smile though Geoffrey didn’t notice.

“I want to be just like you. And Pierson Buckley Folsom VI. And Prescott Neilson Powers IV. And all the men here at Rolling Acres.”

“Enjoy the event?”

“Immensely. I belong here with these kinds of men. I want to move into the Kappa Sigma Alpha house, not live in some pathetic university building.” He cast a disgusted look before continuing. “I want to become an alumni and work under the Carmichael Corporation or Hemplebaum.”

Mr. Johnson smiled. “So, Geoffrey, are you willing to fully commit yourself to the Kappa Sigmas?”

“I am, sir,” he replied in a soldier-like manner.

“Excellent. Well, I can proudly say you are approaching the physical standards. Let me address one concern.” Mr. Johnson carefully moved his massive arm behind Geoffrey and patted his buttocks gently. Geoffrey didn’t react as a gentle sting pulsated his prostate and a charming smile adorned his face. Mr. Johnson’s hand moved away to reveal an enormous rump identical to the others’, one thick with muscles underneath but concealed underneath a spongy layer of fat. With the salmon Bermuda shorts now tight against his behind, the crotch of his shorts were pulled tight into a prominent moose knuckle, also showcasing his 7-inch soft dick.

“Yes, that is more appropriate.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, there is a rather large change that I believe is a necessity for your progression into the Kappa Sigmas as well as your new social circle.”

“What is that sir?”

“Your name, it is just too common and destitute. You agree?” Geoffrey snapped back confirmation even though it made his head spin. “Personally, I have always been very fond of names associated with old money.”

“You want me to change my last name?” Geoffrey asked, slightly confused.

“Not exactly. Your entire name will have to be reformed.”

“My entire name?”

“Well, I thought you wanted to succeed.”

“Yes sir.”

“So you want to change your name. What do you think would work?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“So you want my help, is that what you are saying?” The words were coming so fast and Mr. Johnson’s eyes were so enticing that Geoffrey nodded.

“Yes sir, please tell me what my name should be.”

Mr. Johnson crossed his arms over his shelf of pecs, clearly relishing in the moment even though Geoffrey had no idea why.

“This is my favorite part.” Geoffrey didn’t say anything, as his superior clearly didn’t want him to. And he’d just asked for help so there was no need to say anything. “It’s a great moment, when you realize you want to be whatever I want you to be.”

Mr. Johnson ceremoniously pulled a form out of his suit pocket and presented it to Geoffrey. “This is your fraternity contract. You don’t need to bother with the details. Just sign your name.“

In very literal terms, Geoffrey would be singing away his life. The fraternity, the proud men of Kappa Sigma, and all of the alumni who worked at the Carmichael Corporation and Hemplebaum were now permanently immune from any legal repercussions. Of course, there never would be, as they had plenty of experience in this sort of thing.

Geoffrey was about to sign, but he noticed a different name was listed on the contract.

“It is supposed to be made out by Godfrey Larimer Elverton Jr.?”

“A name I believe will fit you suitably.” Mr. Johnson offered a pen to Geoffrey and gave a conceited smirk. “Just sign.”

The order immediately processed through Geoffrey’s brain, bringing a clubby smile to his face as he wrote out his new signature. Once he had finished, Mr. Johnson took the contract back and made his way to the ballroom stage. He signaled for Geoffrey to follow him.

“Hello?” Mr. Johnson tested a mic, his lifeless bass resonant across the room. “I would like to request every man’s attention please.”

Geoffrey watched on as all the men in the room turned to look their way. So many masculine men dressed to the tens in lavish suits and colorful polos. They were all so refined, so perfectly preppy.

“I would like to announce our first success of the annual Kappa Sigma Alpha rush event: the newest man of Kappa Sigma, Godfrey Larimer Elverton Jr.!”

The crowded room burst into a controlled round of applause. Godfrey felt giddy, proud to become a part of this fine organization. After the room had calmed down, Mr. Johnson and Godfrey rejoined Pierson and Prescott. They continued a fascinating discussion about budgetary and monetary issues, as a recent Hemplebaum acquisition of an old theatre downtown had created quite a profit. Godfrey felt right as home, as if he had always meant to be a Kappa Sigma. He instantly embraced his new role in life and quickly was accepted as a full brother by the other men.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. After Godfrey, there were eight other boys who were rushed into the Kappa Sigmas. Godfrey didn’t realize that at the beginning of the day, these boys had all been exactly like him: crude, coarse, and shoddy. In fact, Godfrey didn’t realize that he had been like that at all. His memories had slowly shifted, causing him to remember a wealthier upbringing, one where he had pampered and shaped to become a Kappa Sigma man over the last 21 years.

“To be frank,” Pierson started as they made their way back out to the first hole. “I did not foresee you transitioning so fast, let alone becoming the first pledge of the day.”

“You should recognize that I have been training for this my entire life,” Godfrey replied sternly.

“Oh, I do,” Pierson conceded. “But I will need some testament to that claim. Four strokes is par.”

Godfrey turned to Pierson and gave a broad, bland smile.

“Pierson Buckley Folsom VI,” he declared with a club in his hand. “I’ll only need one.”

#male tf #mind change #reality change #jockification #fratification #callmecrazy #preppification #mental transformation #dumb and jocked

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ilovebuckers5 · 1 year ago

Text

✧･ﾟ: Strawberry Love･ﾟ:✧

kate martin x oc

themes:

fluff

a bit of angst idk

explicit language

reassurance

A/N: this is so short i'm sorry. i might make a master list pretty soon because writing these are so much fun for no reason. (i did not spell check this so idk if there are any mistakes)

arguments had to be my worst thing of all time. like to ever exist. so whenever me and Kate would get into one i would shut off and lock myself in my room for as long as i needed.

"that's not what i meant Liz please!" Kate called out towards my back as i stormed off.

i slammed my door behind me and sat myself on the bed. Kate immediately ran up to the door and tried opening it calling out my name and apologizing. now i will admit, i was being a bit dramatic but i could definitely tell that all these random girls were trying to make moves on Kate, and she wasn't making an effort to stop them. she didn't exactly bang on the door but she kept trying to get it open.

"Lizzy i'm really sorry. can you please let me in so that we can just talk" the heat that was in the room slowly started to fade away as her voice softened from pleading to just wanting. i sighed still sitting on the edge of our bed letting a few tears fall down my cheek. my fingers messed around with the lace i had sewn onto our bed comforter. still swirling the lacy between my fingers, Kate decided to lean her back against the still locked door. she let her body slowly slide down the door onto the floor. she pressed her ear against the cold wood to try and hear what i was doing, which was nothing but staring at the wall. i bit the gummy part of my inner lip and bit around in my own cheeks. Kate placed her head on the door and waited patiently for me to cool down like i usually did.

finally i let all my anger out by practically strangling a couple of my pillows and brushing my hair out a bit aggressively. i slowly approached the door and opened just for Kate to fall backwards onto the floor.

"shit!" i watched Kate fall before quickly kneeling down to help her up. she let out a stifled giggle then stood up straight. without saying anything and without giving me a chance to speak she pulled me into a long with soft kiss. her hands cupped my jaw and she then switched the kiss to a hug. i was a bit caught off guard but quickly eased into the kiss, smiling along with her lips.

Kate's hands moved to my thighs and lifted me up onto her. wrapping my legs around her waist, she carried my over to the bed sitting herself down while i rested on her lap. she pulled away from the kiss to get a better look at just me. her eyes stared into mine hypnotically as if she was sending a little 'i love you' through her iris'. neither of us could help but smile and continue to cuddle.

a couple minutes later i was laying on top of her with my head resting on her chest. her hands trailed across the butterfly tattoo that was on my back. i look up at her and wait for her to connect eyes with me.

"are you mad at me" i say under my breath.

"what? why wou-" kate says with slight offense in her voice before i cut her off.

"because i feel like this happens a lot and i feel like such a manipulator when i do it because i know that you will just wait and wait...." at this point i was sitting up pacing the room, rambling about how i didn't want Kate to feel super bad fro things that aren't her fault. my rant had to go on for at least 15 minutes before she pulled me back on top her lap forcing me to calm down and lay back down.

"baby its ok. i'm ok i swear, i only want whats best for us ok?" Kate said in a comforting tone that toned down the tension that started building up in my again. her hands made their way to my waist holding a firm grip against my hips. she placed a couple kisses against my lips and a trail of kisses along my neck. i slowly fall into a calmer, sleepier mood. i let all of my body weight lay atop of Kate's lap, my nose found its way to the crook of her neck and stayed there for while. Kate's grip came back against my hips as she lifted me up from the bed and onto our couch. while i was still glued to her lap with my arms around her back, she sat down and reached for the remote to turn on Gilmore girls. it only took a couple minutes into one episode for Kate to fall asleep as well. i soaked in her sweet strawberry scent and began to drift asleep.

#kate martin #lesbian #faye webster #wcbb #iowa hawkeyes #comfort #lgbtq #fluff #Spotify

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beep-beep-sunny · 10 months ago

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My new fic "And Then There Was Georgie" has 2 chapters on AO3

The whole thing available to read only on AO3

Chapter 1--What We Lost

It was 1988 when Bill Denbrough lost his brother in the rain. In 1989 it was confirmed he was gone forever. Georgie Denbrough was never coming back.

It was 2016, and a small boy that lost his yellow raincoat long long ago held hands with another friend they thought was lost forever.

The two of them stood at the opening of the sewer where so many atrocities took place. Bill's eyes widened at the sight of his little brother and his surrogate brother figure and childhood friend. Both of them lost because of Bill's negligence.

“Eddie.” His friend, Richie Tozier, said from behind him, his voice raw. Richie took a few steps towards the spectors.

Beverly put out her arm. “Stop. Remember, the clown has made Bill see Georgie so many times. This is some kind of cruel echo.”

Georgie held tightly to Eddie's hand. “What's going on?” His little voice asked.

“It's dead. We killed it.” Richie whimpered, hands shaking.

“This could just be what Beverly said. An echo. The powers settling before they fade away.” He tried to sound reassuring, but Bill wasn't convinced.

“Give me the gun.” Bill said. “Just to be safe.”

“Wait a minute,” Richie begged. “Please.”

Mike handed Bill the bolt pistol he'd brought mostly for luck. “Thanks.” Bill said, pointing it squarely at Georgie. His hands always shook when he had to put an end to the distorted memories of his little brother over and over again.

“What are you doing with that?” Eddie asked. “Bill, buddy, listen to me.” Eddie stepped in front of Georgie. “IT is dead.”

“No, no.” Bill tried to keep a grip on the gun though the sweat was threatening to make it slip right through his fingers. “That's not my brother. It never is.”

“Yeah.” Georgie squirmed in Eddie's grasp. “You're not my brother, you're old.”

Bill narrowed his eyes. The clown usually puppeted Georgie to recognize him immediately to maximize his guilt. He still held as tightly to the gun as he could, his knuckles pale. “Is this some kind of new trick?”

Georgie leaned slightly into Eddie's back. “That's not even a real gun, it looks funny.”

“It's real.” Eddie said. “Just stand back, okay?”

“Who cares? Shooting you will only slow you down.” Bill shook the gun on every word.

Eddie held up both hands. “I know how this looks, Bill. Trust me. I was terrified when I first saw Georgie.”

“No offense, but you're also dead.” Bill's voice shook. “How can I possibly trust you?”

Georgie broke free of Eddie, but Eddie tried to grab him. He slipped through Eddie's fingers like a slippery snake. “You are not Billy.” He said with the confidence of a seven year old. “Billy is not old. Now put down that fake gun you're scaring my new friend.” Bill was so taken back that the gun did start to shift downwards.

“Eds.” Richie stepped forward again, Bev holding him back. “Please, just say anything believable and I'll believe you.”

“Right, okay. Well, I don't know how believable it sounds.” Eddie scratched his head. “I had a vision of this turtle.” Bill and Richie briefly looked at each other. “The turtle told me it's been protecting Georgie until it was safe for him to return. This turtle said he couldn't save them all, but he knew he'd need a reward for the kids that would eventually defeat IT. I know that sounds completely fucking crazy, and it probably just makes you want to shoot us more, but-” Eddie was cut off from his lengthy explanation by Richie Tozier crushing him in a hug. “Ow, asshole, I still have a hole in my chest.”

Richie backed off. “Sorry.” Richie droned on and on, but Bill was locked in on Georgie. It couldn't be true, could it?

Bill was startled by a large hand on his back. The pressure was comforting when he looked back and saw Mike. “Let's talk to him together.” His tone was so soft. Bill nodded.

Bill still gripped the gun in one hand while they took slow, cautious steps towards the scared, dirty child that looked just like his dead little brother did the day he lost him. Georgie grabbed Eddie's jacket edge the closer they got as if he was afraid. He looked up with big eyes at Eddie who was distracted angrily and passionately talking to Richie. “Stay away.” Georgie finally said when Eddie didn't seem to see his pleading eyes.

Bill and Mike stopped in their tracks. “This is your brother.” Mike explained. “I know he doesn't look like your brother, but a lot’s happened when you were gone.” Mike was so soft and gentle with him.

“I don't believe you.” Georgie yanked harder on Eddie's jacket. “Billy is a kid like me.”

Mike waved a hand in front of Eddie's face to break Richie's spell and he pointed to the child trying to get his attention. “You knew Eddie right? And Richie?”

“Yeah, they were my friends.” Georgie sniffled and rubbed his face, but he just smeared the dirt.

“This is Eddie Kaspbrak.” Mike said, pointing at Eddie. “You trust him right?”

“The weird big turtle said I should.” Georgie nodded. “But I don't trust you. I don't know you. If he's really Eddie he can tell me himself.” Georgie folded his arms in front of his chest.

“It's true.” Eddie said, “I know I used to be a lot closer to your height.” he leaned over and ruffled Georgie's hair. Georgie smiled a little.

“You're still not far off.” Richie quipped.

“Is now really the time for your short jokes?” Eddie snapped back.

Georgie scrunched up his face. “They do kinda seem like Richie and Eddie.”

“See?” Mike said. “And this is your brother.” Mike pushed Bill slightly forward, but all he could manage was an awkward wave.

“No, he's not. He's a phony. He doesn't look nearly as brave as my brother.”

“I wasn't sick.” Bill blurted out. “That day when I lost you. I just didn't want to play with you.“ Tears stung in his eyes even though he'd said it all before. This felt different, more real. “And I've never actually been that brave.”

Georgie stared at him. “You lied?” The phrase made Bill flinch hard, but he nodded. “If you're a liar, how can I trust you?”

Bill smiled a little. That's exactly something Georgie would say. “I gave you a boat. Do you remember what I told you to call them?”

Georgie smiled a little too. “She.”

Bill couldn't hold back his tears, they freely flowed from his eyes and he held a hand to his mouth. “Was she fast, Georgie?”

Georgie nodded. “Too fast. I lost it.” He pouted. “Are you gonna kill me?”

Bill furrowed his brow. “No, of course not. Why did you say that?”

“I lost the boat. I didn't know it was gonna fall in. The ugly clown said you'd kill me.” Georgie looked genuinely scared recounting the memory. Bill fell to his knees and wrapped Georgie up in a big hug. When he hugged him, he could feel the lack of arm at his side. “If you're trying to kill me you're doing a bad job.” Georgie said. Bill laughed hard, he felt delirious. He picked Georgie up and spun him in a circle. Georgie giggled. “A really bad job.”

Next to him, Richie picked up Eddie and spun him around too. “Put me down you big idiot. You really are gonna kill me. I need a hospital.”

“Are you hurting anywhere?” Bill asked Georgie. He shook his head and kicked his dangly feet.

“You're really Billy?” Bill nodded. “Where's mom and dad?”

“I don't think seeing them is a good idea right now.” Bill explained as softly as he could.

“Why not? I just wanna go home!” Georgie whined.

“We can't go home. Georgie.” Bill bit his lip to keep another tear from choking out. “I'll take you back to our hotel so you can get some rest. Are you tired?”

“No.” He pouted, but his yawn betrayed him as he rested his cheek against Bill's shoulder.

“What do you guys think?” Bill asked.

“Let's go back together. All of us.” Beverly shot them a hesitant smile. “What the hell, right?” Ben nudged her and pointed towards Georgie. She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, what the heck!” She took on a silly voice to say the last part. It reminded Bill of Richie. It felt nice that they could all feel like home to each other again.

Bill felt soft steady breathing against his shirt, when he looked down, Georgie was fast asleep.

(continued on AO3)

#georgie denbrough #fanfiction #hanbrough #fic #it stephen king #bill denbrough

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archduchessofnowhere · 1 year ago

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Archduchess Marie Valerie's diary entry on her engagement to Archduke Franz Salvator the Christmas Eve of 1888:

December 24. Christmas Eve … as I write this, I have long been in Munich - it is January 3, 1889. (On December 24) Papa [Emperor Franz Josef] spoke so dryly about tonight that it could almost have offended me if I didn't know that he was only pretending that his whole heart wasn't in it, and Mama [Empress Elisabeth] was sad. [Crown Prince] Rudolf was watching her, then me, and was very friendly. Little Elisabeth [Rudolf's daughter] was very happy about the presents and played with her things while we dined in the Alexandrian room on the left. After dinner, I took [Crown Princess] Stephanie aside and told her my decision, whereupon she immediately congratulated me. Everything passed me by almost as if in a dream. Rudolf and Stephanie left with the King [?] before seven o'clock and Mama promised to come over with us as soon as it was done. When the three of us were now in Mama's toilet room, Papa said he was surprised that Stephanie didn't find it offensive that Rudolf had been taken into confidence [regarding the engagement] before her… they should get him. Mama hugged him and said with sisterly tenderness: "I love you so much." I can't say how happy that made me, because it made him feel so good, he hugged her and asked with great emotion: "No, really? It hasn't been for a long time." Excited as I was, I immediately began to cry and yet I was doubly happy that it was Franz [Salvator, Archduke of Austria-Tuscany]'s and my bond of pure young love that had brought my parents this sacred and beautiful hour of union. The intimate union of the parents among themselves, with me and even with Rudolf seems to me the clearest proof of the blessing that rests on our love… I plucked up the courage to throw myself on Papa's chest, although he showed me no particular tenderness and then went out… Then Mama and I said our evening prayers as usual and about half past 7 I hugged her crying and begged her to forgive me for anything I ever did wrong against her as I closed out my sunny life as a free girl. In her overwhelming kindness, she said she wished there was more to forgive, then it wouldn't be so hard for her to give me up… Beating heart into the study room after I had prayed at the prayer stool; here he sat with Zummel [Countess Marie Kornis, lady-in-waiting], who immediately went out…. I shook his hand… "So Franz, now I want to give you my answer - do you still have me on loan? Do you still want me?" "Yes." "Well - there I am - there you have me." I was so excited that I don't remember if he said anything right away: all I know is that he leaned down to me without letting go of my hand and pretended to kiss me without actually giving me a kiss. I returned this embrace, which seemed a little too cool to me, putting as much tenderness into it as was possible, and then really looked into his dear eyes. Such an inexpressible happiness radiated from them that it soon passed into my soul and I realized that I was happy, very happy. He struggled for words and said: "You have given me the most beautiful Christmas. You make me infinitely, unspeakably happy." "And you forgive me for putting you off for so long and for everything I did to you? Because you suffered a lot for me." "Yes," he said simply. Then I took the little gold locket that I was wearing on a red ribbon around my neck and gave it to him… He immediately put it on his necklace. We held hands. Valérie: "Now I'm yours for time and eternity." "And I'll be yours forever." "Forever - how much I've prayed for that." Franz: "And me too." "Now we thank God too," I said and we knelt down together, blissfully united, and prayed with overflowing hearts. Then we put the cross on each other's foreheads.

Now I went out and told Gusti [Auguste von Heidt, Valerie's chambermaid] that I would ask Mama to come up. Like all of us, she had put aside her mourning for the day [Elisabeth's father, Duke Max in Bavaria, had died on November 15] and was youthfully dazzlingly beautiful when she came in with Papa and tenderly embraced me and then Franz as well, tearfully telling him that she gave him everything, that he should make me happy. We kissed Papa's hand and he also kissed Franz so sweetly and said kind words to him. Then Mama gave Franz a big pastel picture of me. Papa looked at us for a long time with amusement: "Valérie is looking very happy." It may have been 8 o'clock when we went over to Rudolf's, Papa and Mama in front, Franz and I behind - arm in arm. He gave us a very friendly welcome and even kissed Franz. We only stayed for a very short time and when we came back, Mama sent for Zummel, who was crying so much that she couldn't say anything other than whether I was happy… Mama hugged dear Zummel so sweetly: "We're off now." Then she told her to give Franz a hug, which he replied very sweetly and simply.

Papa and Mama went to sleep, and Franz and I gradually tried to realize that this blissful reality was not a dream. We had discussed with Papa and Mama that he should travel with us to Munich instead of visiting Manni [Albert, 8th Prince of Thurn und Taxis, Valerie's cousin] in Regensburg… I also asked him if he had any premonitions for today. "Yes, because Zummel was so terribly upset." We then wrote telegrams together to his parents [Archduke Karl Salvator and Archduchess Maria Immacolata], Grandmama [Duchess Ludovika in Bavaria], Gisela [Princess of Bavaria, Valerie's sister], Amélie [Duchess in Bavaria, Valerie's cousin] and Manni. He looked over my shoulders, fixed my hairpins, looked happy, but didn't give me a kiss, even though I laid my cheek against his for a second. After 9 o'clock, Zummel reminded us to leave and we said goodnight.

Schad, Martha and Schad, Horst [ed] (1998). Das Tagebuch der Lieblingstochter von Kaiserin Elisabeth. 1878-1899 (Translation done by DeepL. Please keep in mind that in a machine translation a lot of nuance may/will be lost)

#for context: valerie and franz salvator had been in a ''will they won't they'' situationship for some years #also poor valerie she really wanted a kiss #archduchess marie valerie of austria #archduke franz salvator of austria-tuscany #empress elisabeth of austria #franz josef i of austria #das tagebuch der lieblingstochter von kaiserin elisabeth

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cursedcupcakemaster · 8 months ago

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no one asked me for this but fuck it this fandom deserves more

Characters: Saga Latour, Mist Flaive, Elizabeth Veuve

Warnings:fluff with sprinkles of angst here and there, implied sadness, blood drinking mention, some of these are short, slight nsfw

Notes:i do not own these characters these fictions are my interpretation of how they'd be in a relationship with someone, reader can be a vampire or human up to y'all, I use "you" for the reader reader is neutral, I use he/him for Beth here get over it , in this au the scarlet moons rule was changed to if someone allows themselves to be bitten then it isn't an offense

I am not including Jack here because while he is chronologically 18 he was turned into a vampire at 8 years old , i will however do platonic headcanons in a later post

Enjoy everyone~

Type: Black Raspberry Macarons

Lost Eden Relationship Headcanons

Mist

Mist is very sweet with his partner

I honestly think you'd have met through Saga

Boy is whipped once he gets a crush and it shows when he's all blushy around you

Once you accept his affections , he will treat you like a king/queen

He basically takes care of anything you need including housing

Mist likely prefers time alone with you and home dates for said time alone, movies, snuggles and snacks , Chess is also an option

Mist is supportive of whatever you want to do

Mists kisses are gentle and ferverent

If you're a vampire already , joined up with lost Eden or not he let's you drink from him first since to Mist , your happiness is priority

If human he may turn you , if you ask him that is

He loves you dearly so your opinion matters most

Treat this guy well , he needs hugs after what happened during his life

Saga

It takes a lot to break this man's walls down so if you managed to get into a relationship great job

He was very hurt by Guil so a romantic relationship may be tricky

Saga would likely be very protective of you, human or vampire doesn't matter to him

If you're human he'll be the one to turn you so you won't die as easily

Either way blood drinking Saga goes first but he knows not to take too much the first time

He likely does mostly home dates which includes video games and jam sessions with you since he's not much for mushy stuff but if you want to watch a crappy romance movie he'll do it so you can make fun of it together

He's a rough kisser but he knows what he's doing , he makes you feel alive when you kiss or drink each other's blood

He may not be the most romantic but one thing Saga does have for his partner is passion

Elizabeth

Okay so Beth has lived for a very long time and if you happen to catch his eye you'll be treated well

Elizabeth makes sure you take care of yourself as much as he does himself

Dates are usually Spa days for you both, Beth knows when your hair or nails need a touch up

He makes clothes custom made for you , yes that includes shoes

His kisses are soft but when he's feeling it he can get rough

If you can sew or design he'd be over the moon because now you can work on something together

Beth might not have been the one to have turned you when you were human if you were one before you met but he'd be happy you can spend longer together now that you're immortal

If you were a vampire when you met then he'd still be happy

Blood drinking between you usually Beth goes first and I'd say he goes for the wrists or thighs since it's easy to cover the marks

He won't let you do it somewhere obvious like the throat

He isn't as protective of you as some of his band mates are of their lovers because he believes you can protect yourself

Beth will probably come off as aloof sometimes but he does love his partner

#Vueve Elizabeth #Saga Latour #Mist Flaive #visual prison x reader #Saga x reader #Mist x reader #Elizabeth x reader #The kings of rock #Vampires

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funnylittlelad · 2 years ago

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Rules Made To Be Broken - Steve Harrington x gn!reader

Masterlist - AO3

<< Rule One | Rule Three >>

summary: As you and Steve grow closer, things seem to be going perfectly. That is until your police chief father steps in. The more you lie the deeper a hole you dig, but what else can you do? No matter what your dad says, you're not staying away from Steve Harrington.

wordcount: 6k

notes/tags: Hopper!reader, secret dating, sneaking around, fluff, friends to lovers, events of season three do not take place (canon divergent), Hopper is a bit of an (redeemable) overprotective helicopter parent, mentions of/talks about: abusive parents, Steve's father is his own warning, Good Brother Jonathan (tm), tumultuous relationships, divorce, death, and family trauma.

Rule Two: No Going To Steve's When His Parents Are Home

You’re doing this for Steve. That's what you tell yourself every time your anxiety starts getting the better of you. This is for Steve. Steve won't let anything bad happen to you. It’ll be when movie night usually is. As far as your dad and Joyce are concerned, it's still just movie night. It's not you meeting your boyfriend of a couple of months’ parents.

Steve explained to you that they want to meet less because you're dating and more to make sure you're real. They want Steve to prove he isn't lying to get them off his back. You can do that. You can sit there and act as evidence, nothing more. The part of you that comes from your dad barks a laugh in the back of your head. Yeah, right! Good luck keeping your mouth shut! it cackles.

The lying is beginning to take its toll on you. You're losing sleep because of the guilt. It feels like something's changed with us. You don't come to me anymore. Your dad’s words reverberate in your bones. One night you lay in bed holding back a sob that burns the backs of your eyes. You lay there and you wish you could go to your dad about this. You wish you could tell him how nervous you are to meet your boyfriend’s parents, maybe even get a hug from him. How could you, though? Every day it feels more and more like you won't be able to have both your dad and Steve. It terrifies you.

“Okay, you look awful,” Jonathan sighs one night from his bed.

“Gee, thanks,” you deadpan from your own bed.

“I mean it. This clearly isn't good for you. Maybe your dad was right,” he shrugs.

“My dad couldn't be more wrong about Steve, actually. Don't act like you don't know that,” you bite.

“All I know is Steve was a dick for a lot longer than he hasn't been,” Jonathan snaps.

“No offense, Jonathan, but everyone’s a dick to you.”

It’s a low blow and you know it. You're aware of the shit he gets in the halls of Hawkins High.

“Whatever, I don't know why I said anything,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, me neither.”

Jonathan keeps his mouth shut after that. A small bit of guilt bubbles up but is quickly swallowed by the hungry guilt monster. He’s only trying to help, you scold yourself.

The following day Steve helps you look at a few cars after work just a bit out of Hawkins. Your dad is on duty. He was less than enthusiastic when he heard Steve could help, but it isn't against any of his rules. Steve brings your laced fingers up to his mouth so he can brush his lips over your knuckles as he drives.

“Does this mean soon you won't need me to drive you around anymore?” He pouts.

“Just cause I won't need it doesn't mean I won't want it,” you say.

“Good, 'cause I like being able to feel you’re there,” he smiles and squeezes your hand a bit.

You smile dopily at him. So much affection washes over you as you watch him. The afternoon sun hugs every one of his features adoringly. It's as if the sun exists only to allow you to view his face.

“Do you want to hang out when we’re done? Like at my place?” You ask nervously.

“Are you sure? Doesn't your dad need to be home?” He spares a glance at you as he drives.

“He will be by the time we’re done. I dunno, I was thinking maybe if he gets used to you being around he won't be as upset when I tell him about us,” you shrug.

“You’re going to tell him about us?” Steve breathes.

Whether it's out of shock or fear you're unsure.

“I mean, eventually, yeah.”

Steve nods thoughtfully.

“It's worth a shot,” he decides.

You smile at the thought that you could desensitize your dad to Steve. Perhaps you could even prove to him that Steve is nothing like his father and never will be. Steve presses another kiss absentmindedly to the back of your hand as the thought crosses your mind. Yeah, there's not one glimmer of John Harrington in Steve, that you can be sure of.

The first two cars you look at are duds. The third grabs your heart immediately. It’s a little rust-brown thing, not much, but at the same time, it's everything. You agree on a date and time to come back for a second look. Then you're on your way back to Hawkins. It’s such a nice day out with Steve not having to worry. Until a storm cloud catches up with you.

As the Welcome to Hawkins! sign flits by, lights begin to flash behind you. Red and blue.

“What the hell? I didn't do anything,” Steve mutters.

“He’s not pulling over you. He’s pulling over me,” you sigh with a roll of your eyes.

Steve pulls over, the chief's truck pulling up behind him. With one final squeeze, you let go of each other’s hands. Your dad stalks up to the driver’s side window and Steve cranks it down. Your dad leans with a forearm on the door to peer in the car.

“Were the lights really necessary? We’ll see each other at home in like fifteen minutes,” you say.

“How’d the car shopping go?” He asks.

“It was good. We’re going back to look at one of them next week,” you answer.

He nods. Then his eyes move to Steve. He takes a moment to measure him up.

“How’s your mom?” He asks him.

Steve looks startled to be spoken to at all.

“Oh- uh- good, she’s good,” Steve stutters.

Your dad nods.

“And your dad?”

“Same as always,” Steve smiles tightly.

“Dad,” you interject, “We’ll see you at home.”

“We will?” He questions.

“Yeah, Steve is gonna hang out for a little bit since you’ll be home,” you tell him.

His eyes flit between the two of you for a moment.

“See you at home,” he says but his eyes stay on Steve.

Steve smiles and nods before carefully pulling away. The chief’s truck stays behind you the entire time. Every time Steve’s eyes flicker to the rearview your face warms.

“I’m sorry about him,” you say.

“Hey,” Steve grabs your hand, “I knew what I was signing up for.”

“Did you?” You question insecurely.

“Yes, I did,” he states firmly.

A small smile finds its way to your face.

“He’s always been like this, y’know. It’s just never really mattered before,” you tell him.

“Does that mean it matters now?” He smirks.

“Yeah, dingus,” you laugh, “I actually like you and I’d like for you to stick around a while.”

“You haven't been in any serious relationships then?” He inquires, failing at casual.

“I've had some semi-serious things, but,” you shrug, “I always knew my dad would become too much eventually so I never really let myself get too attached.”

“Until now,” he raises his eyebrows at you as he parks in the driveway.

“Until now,” you confirm with a small smile, “I’ve never felt so much so fast before.”

“Me too,” Steve says with a scrunched-up face.

You laugh as your dad exits the truck, lighting a cigarette. You sigh watching him stroll to the porch.

“Okay, we should go in,” you decide.

Steve nods and follows your lead. The two of you pass by your dad to enter the house. You give him a playful punch as you go by. Steve gives him a respectful nod and smiles. When you walk in, Will and El light up at the sight of Steve.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head and grab Steve’s arm before he can be sucked in by the munchkins, “He’s here for me not you. You guys will see him at Scoops tomorrow, I’m sure.”

They pout dramatically at you but don't argue.

“Hey, maybe now that you’re supervisor we’ll visit you at work more,” Will teases.

The kids always insist that the arcade by Family Video is better. You can't argue too much. Yours is a lot smaller with a smaller selection. They seem to think your new position equals free video games, though. The news leaving Will’s mouth makes you cringe.

“You got the promotion?” Steve asks with wide eyes.

Your cringe turns into a half smile as you look at him.

“Surprise?” You say, your voice pitched slightly higher.

Steve lifts you up by the waist and spins you around with a wide smile. You fall into laughter as you grab his shoulders.

“Congratulations!” He cheers.

There’s the creaaak thud of the front door falling shut. In a second, you’re on the ground. You and Steve stand at least a foot apart. Your dad stands in the doorway with a slight frown.

“What's the celebration?” He asks as he toes off his boots.

“I got the promotion to supervisor,” you tell him.

“Congrats,” he nods with a small smile.

You smile back.

“Okay, we’re going to hang out in my room. There's a new album I wanted to show Steve,” you tell him and gesture down the hall.

“Door stays open,” he states.

You pause and furrow your brows.

“What?”

“Your door. It stays open.”

“Dad, that’s ridiculous. I’m nineteen years old. I’m going to close my bedroom door if I want to,” you state.

“My roof,” he says.

“No,” you huff, “I’m drawing a line here. I put up with you being crazy every other time. Jonathan closes the door when Nancy is over! Steve is my friend . Come on, Steve.”

Steve avoids your dad’s hard gaze and follows you down the hall. You slam the door after he enters for good measure. He sits on your bed as you fume and pace, mumbling angrily to yourself. Eventually, Steve reaches out and catches your wrist as you go by. He tugs you over to him until you’re settled between his knees. He smiles up at you sweetly.

“How’re you feeling, baby?” he asks gently.

Heat floods your face at the pet name.

“M’fine. He’s just so frustrating,” you grumble.

A chuckle tumbles from Steve’s lips. Your brows furrow at him in question.

“You look just like him right now with that face,” he says.

You groan and cover your face with your hands. Steve grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away from your face. You give a dramatic frown.

“Now you look even more like him,” Steve laughs.

You roll your eyes with a smile you can’t fight off. With a playful slap to his chest, you escape Steve’s hold. You pop your favorite tape in your stereo and hit play. It’s Fleetwood Mac’s self-titled album, which tends to surprise people. People usually expect you to have a taste more similar to Jonathan’s. Your clothes aren’t always terribly far off from each other. Hell, you'll admit you've stolen a few items from his side of the room. You turn the music up so it’s loud enough to cover your voice, but not too loud that you can’t talk at all. When you reach your bed again you let yourself fall back into the space next to Steve.

“Once I finally have a car, the next thing I’m saving up for is an apartment,” you sigh.

“Well, now that you run the place,” Steve smiles down at you, “that won't be too hard.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m a supervisor , not the owner or anything,” you chuckle.

“Ah, soon enough they’ll just hand over the keys,” he waves you off playfully.

You roll your eyes. In a swift motion, you yank his arm so he falls over you. He braces himself on his forearm. You catch his face in your hands and bring him in for a kiss. The unusual feeling of his lips causes you to pull back suddenly.

“Are you wearing lip gloss?” You ask him with a smirk as you pull away, lips stickier than before.

“No, it’s chapstick,” he says defensively.

“Stevie, it’s sticky and cherry flavored. No way you’re convincing me this is chapstick,” you snort.

His cheeks are absolutely glowing red.

“There’s cherry-flavored chapstick!” He argues.

“Yeah, at the store, not on your lips,” you tease.

“Alright,” he falls onto his back, “I didn’t think you’d notice. I thought it was chapstick when I grabbed it.”

You laugh which earns a bright smile from Steve. The thin green crown around Steve’s pupil reminds you of his father. What will your dad think when he finds out John Harrington knew about your relationship before he did? You chew on your lip as you wonder. Steve takes hold of your chin in the crook of his hand and uses his thumb to tug your lip from its prison.

“Are you sure your dad won’t care that it’s me you’re dating?” You ask quietly.

“The only thing he’ll care about is that he didn’t pick you out for me,” he answers.

“They really don’t care about what you want at all?” You frown already knowing the answer.

“No, I’m here to make them look good,” he smiles wryly.

“Is there anything I should know going in?”

Steve takes an even breath in through his nose as he considers it.

“My mom will be easy. She isn’t present enough to really grasp what’s going on most of the time anyway. She’s nice, though,” he explains slowly as his brain continues to churn through thoughts, “My dad will be a dick to me on purpose. He’s going to try to embarrass me, drive you away to prove you were only after money. I guess just… prove him wrong.”

You lean over and give him a tender kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll prove him so wrong he’s the one that’ll end up embarrassed,” you promise.

Steve grows a brilliant smile.

“I know you will.”

When Joyce gets home around an hour later she’s elated to find Steve there. She insists he stays for dinner. Even when both you and your dad start to protest. Now that there's a dining table big enough to fit the army of kids that are over here every other day, there's no warding her off from insisting people stay to eat. It’s worse than you imagined. Steve is sitting next to you and across from Will. Jonathan and El sit on either side of the younger Byers. Your dad and Joyce are at either end of the table. Your dad’s stern stare is mostly on Steve. You wish you could hold his hand to ease his anxiety.

“So, what’s the car you’re thinking about?” Your dad asks, finally breaking the awkward silence.

“It’s a ‘77 Rabbit. Bit dinged up, but I like it,” you answer pleasantly.

“Volkswagen,” your dad comments as he rubs his chin.

“Yeah,” you say slowly, pleasant mood waning.

The table holds its breath.

“Those things are known for overheating.”

You roll your eyes, proud they stay in your head.

“I know,” you gesture next to you with your thumb, “Steve already told me.”

Steve offers a nervous smile.

“It’s in really good shape, well taken care of, and I know what to look for in a test drive,” he backs you up.

Your dad stabs his food with his fork and nods. There’s something a little different in his eyes when he looks at Steve. You can almost believe he's lowered the threat level on Steve by at least one.

“Where’d you learn about cars?” Your dad asks him.

He knows Steve's dad didn't teach him a thing other than anger and violence.

“Magazines, mostly. Friends in school. Books,” Steve shrugs.

“Books?” Jonathan snorts not so subtly.

With flared nostrils, you kick his shin beneath the table. He hisses in pain and shoots a glare at you. You shoot one back. Joyce quietly scolds Jonathan. Your dad is busy rolling his eyes while Will and El snicker. When you look back, Steve is watching you with a tender smile that you’re sure is far too obvious. You’re a little too enamored by it to care. Quickly, you compose yourself and look down at your plate as casually as possible.

“Careful where you point that thing,” you whisper and tap the corner of your own smile.

A small laugh bursts from Steve drawing attention. The tips of his ears go ruby.

“What’s so funny?” Your dad questions.

“Nothing, it was an inside joke,” you shake your head.

Your dad starts talking to Jonathan about college. Jonathan starts halfheartedly going on about Emerson. You let yourself get stuck on Steve for a moment. A hint of a smile appears on your lips as you observe him interact with Will and El so easily. It's like he’s another older brother. The distraction means you miss Joyce bearing witness to the entire lovesick scene. Pieces click together for her then and her heart cracks. She glances at your dad with a small frown.

Her eyes slide back to you. They find Steve’s attention is back on you. It’s never gone from you for long, that's another thing she noticed tonight. She isn't sure how aware of each other’s feelings you are, but she knows one thing for sure. Your dad is preventing you from really trying with Steve. He's standing between you and something that could be good for you, that could make you happy.

Joyce knows his bias against Steve is unfair and rooted mostly in his feelings for Steve's father. Well, half in his feelings for Steve’s father and half in his fear of losing you. Something he can already feel happening, causing him to grip tighter. She sighs as she makes a decision. She has to knock some sense into your dad. She fears if she doesn't you’ll end up resenting him and he’ll really lose you.

“You guys doing that movie night this week?” Your dad asks as dinner wraps up.

“Yup, every Friday,” you answer, collecting your and Steve’s empty plates.

“Parents aren't home?”

Your eyes narrow slightly and dart to him. Something about the way he asks causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand in warning. He’s asking because he already knows the answer. He’s fishing for a lie. Steve’s mouth opens in the face of your hesitation. You know he’s posed to lie, posed to try to save you only to unknowingly damn you.

“They are,” you answer quickly, startling him, “but they’ll be gone before we get there.”

Your dad nods slowly, eyes bouncing between the two of you.

“We’re absolutely positive?” He presses.

Guilt claws its way up your throat. Once again, you think about how John Harrington is going to know about your relationship before your own father. You open your mouth to snap about him being rude but don't get the chance.

“We’re absolutely positive,” Steve answers evenly.

Your dad settles a thoughtful stare onto Steve. After a moment he just nods and looks at you again. As the guilt monster grows even more, you expect it to take the shape of something horrid. A Demogorgon, perhaps. It doesn't. Your dad gives you a small smile as a peace offering. The guilt monster peaks around his chair with a familiar sly smile and blonde pigtails. The image of your little sister dries your throat. You’ll be lucky if sleep comes at all tonight.

Joyce catches you before you can head to Robin’s. You have clothes stashed there to change into. This way your outfit doesn't tip anyone off. You’re just finishing lacing up your shoes when she knocks on the open door. She stands in the doorway with a small smile and her hands clasped in front of her.

“Do you have a minute before you go?” She asks.

You nod and she enters. You sit up straighter when she closes the door behind her.

“What’s up?” You question.

“It’s about Steve-”

“If my dad put you up to this-”

“He didn't. I’m here about him, actually. I know he has certain opinions and concerns, but… I’m not blind. You two clearly like each other. I think Steve is a good kid and you two deserve a chance,” she tells you calmly.

Your heart begins to race.

“Wh- what are you saying?”

“I’m going to talk to your dad. I just wanted you to know why he feels so strongly,” she sighs.

You pat the spot next to you on your bed. She perches herself there. Her eyes are big and sad, something you hate to see. You don't see it often anymore, not since you all started living together.

“If you’re going to tell me about Steve’s dad, I already know,” you inform her.

“What do you know?”

“Enough,” you shrug, “That he’s controlling and abusive. That Steve couldn't be any more different from him.”

Joyce nods. She glances at the door and then back to you. Something sits heavy on her tongue, you can tell. It drops a pit in your stomach. Maybe you don't want to know.

“Your dad has had to answer more than one call at their house. The Harringtons have always been known for two things in Hawkins. Money and… well, hitting,” she explains evenly, “From what I know, Steve didn't call 911. It was always the neighbors. Now, your dad doesn't blame Steve for that, but he doesn't trust him either.”

Acid burns the back of your throat as tears burn the backs of your eyes. You can't fathom it. You can't imagine sweet, kind, gentle Steve growing up around such violence and chaos. You can't imagine him even considering raising a hand against you. It all only makes you want to get to him quicker, hug him tightly, and promise that you know he won't continue the Harrington legacy.

“Steve would die before hurting me,” you say shakily, “He’s never- He’d never do anything like that.”

You can feel Joyce’s eyes sit on you. You keep your own on your hands in your lap.

“You two are already together, aren't you?” It’s half a question, half a sigh.

Your eyes fall shut. All you can do is nod.

“I don't like that you've been lying,” Joyce says, “but I understand why you’ve been lying. I’ll talk to your dad about being easier on Steve. Just know, he may be upset for a little bit when you tell him.”

“Thank you, Joyce,” you smile gratefully at her.

She grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. Then she tells you to have fun and lets you go. You say goodbye to your dad and walk to Robins. The only reason you don't run is that you don't want to sweat before going to Steve’s. Joyce’s words rattle around uncomfortably in your head. Your dad doesn't blame Steve for that, but he doesn't trust him either .

It doesn’t occur to you until you're walking into Robin’s that Joyce was wrong. It’s not that your dad doesn't trust Steve. He doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you to make your own decisions. He doesn't trust you to take care of yourself. He doesn't trust you to be in a relationship at all. Now, he likely doesn't trust a word from your mouth. For good reason, but your stomach still twists.

You tell Robin about the conversation with Joyce as you get ready. Her eyes are owlish as you speak. She lays on her bed staring at her ceiling as you change near the closet.

“It's good, though, right? I mean, you have Joyce on your side. She always seems to be able to get him to change his mind,” Robin says.

“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh, “I just don't feel good about her lying for me too.”

“It's temporary.”

“I know, but… how temporary? I hate this, Rob. I hate lying and sneaking around. I just want to be able to see my boyfriend a-and meet his parents- even if they do suck! He told me I’m acting differently, but I don't know what he wants from me! I can't have a life and be close to him,” you rant, eyes watering by the end.

Robin stands. You’re dressed and sufficiently nervous. It doesn't matter how nice you look, it won't be nice enough. Robin walks up to you and wraps you in a warm comforting hug.

“It’ll all work out, I know it,” she says softly because she doesn't have any other words.

“I hope so. I know it's soon, but I think I’m falling in love with him, Rob, and I really don't want my dad to hate me for that,” you whisper in reply.

Robin just hugs you tighter. You give her a kiss on the cheek when Steve arrives before bounding out to his beemer. You manage to steal the first kiss this time. There's a moment before pulling out where the two of you take each other in. Steve is in an ironed polo with white and coffee-brown stripes. Jeans hug his legs in the way you love and his white tennis shoes are secure on his feet. He looks so good you want to eat him up.

“You look… wow ,” Steve breathes.

“Shut up,” you smirk with glowing red cheeks.

Steve grins brightly and pulls out of Robin’s driveway.

“You look wow too, by the way,” you tell him teasingly.

He chuckles and his hand finds its home on your thigh. Yours finds its own home over his.

“Nervous?” He asks.

“Very,” you admit.

“Nothing my parents think or say will ever change anything. I don't care what they want anymore,” he assures you.

You squeeze his hand.

“I know,” you answer.

This is the first time you’re nervous walking up to Steve’s door. His hand is always on you somewhere, never not touching now that you’re on Harrington grounds. He leads the way in, giving you as much time to prepare as possible. Stepping into the house is like stepping through a portal. It smells different. Clearly from someone cooking, but it isn't anything you’ve smelled Steve cook before. Everything is brighter. You realize more lights are on than usual. Even the sounds are off. There are light voices, but not the ones you’re so familiar with. In the background is subtle jazz music to fill in any empty spaces. It’s so… bizarre .

Steve’s back straightens, shoulders tensing up. You watch forlornly as your Steve recedes and their Steve comes out. His arm circles you almost protectively as you venture further into the house. Before you face his parents you come to terms with the idea that you’re alone right now. Your Steve is gone at the moment. He had to make room, save face. So, you’ll do your best to get by on your own until he’s back.

“Mom, Dad,” Steve says as you enter the kitchen.

He formally introduces the three of you. You manage a nice smile despite your nerves. Up close you can see the frame of Steve’s face on his mother. She’s truly a beautiful woman with a kind smile and sparkling brown eyes. However, something about her eyes is a little off. They don't feel like they're looking quite at you. Steve’s father gifts you a polite smile as he shakes your hand. It takes a moment for it to really click, but when it does you feel a bite of shame in your gut.

Steve’s parents are dressed nicer than the two of you. You aren't sure they own anything that isn't at least business casual. Your eyes bounce to Steve to really take in the way he matched you in casualness. Did he do that on purpose?

“How did you two meet?” Steve’s mother asks as you all sit around the table.

“The police station when we were around six and seven,” Steve answers, drawing your surprised gaze, “We- uh- we were both there waiting to be picked up after school. Uncle Phil was watching me that day for whatever reason.”

You recall the day in question. The two of you made pirate hats out of newspapers and turned the station into your ship. It was so brief and so long ago. You can't believe Steve even remembers it.

“You two have been friends that long?” His father asks with questioning eyebrows.

“No, we really only became friends the last year or so,” you reply, “but it’s just always been kind of natural with us, I guess.”

Steve smiles at you. A crack in his exterior, a glimpse at your Steve. He’s swept away again by his father’s calculating eyes. The smile dies.

“Are you in school with Steve?” His mother asks politely.

Your eyebrows twitch into a furrow, but you quickly catch yourself.

“Uh- n- no, we-” you start.

“We’ve both graduated, mom. We work at the mall together,” Steve finishes for you.

“You weren't being asked, Steve,” his father chides sharply.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Steve mutters quickly.

“Oh, it’s fine. He usually just says what I would have anyways,” you wave him off casually.

Steve's eyes dart to you in subtle amazement.

“It’s still rude,” his father states with an air of finality.

“I don't know if Steve has a rude bone in his body,” you chuckle lightly.

“You said you work at the mall together,” his father drawls, “What do you plan to do?”

“Right now I’m just focusing on the promotion I got. I haven't decided on a set career path,” you answer honestly.

“Oh, congratulations,” his mother chirps.

“Thank you,” you make a point to smile at her.

Steve pours water into your half-empty glass before you can ask. He also retrieves the salt before you can reach for it. Every little thing he does to ease your evening brings a small smile to your face. He’s taking care of you. Even in front of his parents, he’s taking care of you in any way he can.

“Lance from Boston called the other day,” his father comments offhandedly halfway through the meal, “Said they could use help opening up the auxiliary office.”

“Does that mean we’re going to Boston?” His mother asks.

“Actually, I was thinking Steve could go to Boston.”

Both yours and Steve’s faces snap to him.

“What?” Steve balks.

“I think it would be a good opportunity for you to start climbing the ladder in the company. Don't worry, it isn't too much work,” his father says casually.

You swear your heart has stopped.

“N- no, I’m not doing that,” Steve protests, “I don't want to work for your company. I don't want to go to Boston. I- I like my job right now. I don't want to do it forever, but I can figure that out!”

He’s borderline panicked. You lace your fingers through his under the table. The movement of your arm doesn't slip by his father.

“Right, because you have so much here to worry about,” his father rolls his eyes, “You have to get serious, Steve. Friends and relationships will only get you so far. You really think anyone is going to want to stay with you if you can't bring home a decent paycheck?”

Steve’s mouth opens and snaps shut. His eyebrows furrow insecurely. You tighten your grasp on his hand.

“I can make money doing something else,” Steve argues weakly.

“Okay, what? If you want to make money another way, fine. But you have to tell me what. You can't keep wasting your time working at the mall,” his father snaps.

“I don't know yet-”

“Then you're going to Boston. End of discussion.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve sighs defeatedly.

It rips you open. You’d like to punch John Harrington in the nose.

“For what it's worth,” you say, grabbing everyone’s attention, “from someone who is here every day, there's a lot in Hawkins for Steve. Actually, I don't think it'd be the same without him. I don't just mean me, either. Although, I’ll admit I’m definitely a big part of it.”

Steve hooks his ankle around yours beneath the table. You turn your smile on him and find his waiting.

“You remind me a lot of your father,” John Harrington sighs, “Getting involved in family business that doesn't concern you.”

“That's not fair. We’re all at this table having this conversation,” Steve argues stronger now, “You just don't want to admit you don't know anything about me or my life.”

It's an outburst that silences the table for a minute. You think Steve’s grip on your hand may shatter your bones, but you’re okay with making that sacrifice for him. He keeps himself stoic, but you can tell. You can see the anxiety and the anticipation. His father’s piercing green eyes slide from Steve to you.

“Does the chief know where you are?” He asks pointedly.

You swallow nervously.

“Yes,” you don't technically lie.

He hm’s as he regards you carefully.

“And he knows who you’re with?”

“Yes,” you don't technically lie a little quieter.

He knows you're with Steve at Steve’s. Steve’s father’s eyes glint in amusement. He smirks like he’s privy to something you're not. It leaves you feeling anxious and exposed. Then his expression hardens and moves to Steve again.

“Stay in Hawkins. Waste your time at the mall, but you’ll be doing it without our money. You can stay here, but that's the only help you'll receive from us. So, you better make your decision wisely,” his father offers what he thinks is a difficult ultimatum.

“Okay,” Steve replies without hesitation.

“What?” His father questions coolly.

“I’ll stay in Hawkins with my nothing,” Steve answers with a shrug.

His father’s jaw clicks as it sets. His knuckles go white around his utensils. An even exhale exits from his nose.

“Fine,” he states with that finality again.

“Wait,” Steve's mom points at you with her fork, “Are you Jim Hopper’s kid?”

And just like that the conversation moves on as if that confrontation never happened. The night isn't awful considering. It's certainly uncomfortable, but you can deal with that. You manage to make it to the car before Steve's all over you. He crowds you against the passenger side, hands holding your face as he presses a passionate kiss to your lips. You grip his shirt, the only purchase you could get in your surprise. Your skin buzzes with the feeling of Steve. He pulls away, but you follow and steal another kiss. He smiles into it.

When you finally let him go, he keeps his forehead on yours. Something he noticed you like. Really, you like proximity in general, but you especially like being close enough to steal kisses.

“You’re amazing, y’know that? I don't think I tell you that enough,” he smiles.

“I mean, I wouldn't object to you telling me that more,” you smirk.

“You’re,” he kisses you again briefly, “amazing.”

“Please,” you chuckle, “you were a total badass in there!”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Oh, big time. The way you stood up to him was honestly hot,” you tell him flirtatiously.

“Is that right?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You laugh and playfully shove his face away. He laughs too, letting his forehead fall to your shoulder. Your fingers comb lightly through the back of his hair. His hands drop to rest on your waist.

“Steve, this might sound stupid, but did you dress like this because of me?” You ask quietly after a moment.

He lifts his head. You come face to face with familiar furrowed eyebrows.

“I always dress like this,” he says.

“I know, but you must have known how nice they were dressed,” you point out.

His caramel-apple eyes search yours for a moment. He takes an even breath.

“I knew if we were both dressed normally they would assume you were ‘dressed down’,” he does finger quotes, “because of me. Not because you don't care.”

To his surprise, you give him a small smile. He was expecting you to be something close to offended at least.

“That’s really sweet,” you tell him softly.

“What’s sweet was you standing up for me back there.”

“Me? Steve, you just gave up everything for what you wanted. You did just fine on your own,” you shake your head.

“I wouldn't have been able to if I didn't have you.”

“I doubt that. You’re very capable.”

“Are you kidding? I only cared about staying for you,” he chuckles like you're silly for not realizing.

“R- really?”

“Yeah, you dope,” he laughs, “I love you.”

It's like you're flying. You crash your lips into his, both of you smiling.

“I love you too,” you tell him with a chuckle.

He kisses you a few more times before taking you back to Robin’s.

<< Rule One | Rule Three >>

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #hopper!reader #stranger things fic

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starstwinkleplanetsshine · 7 months ago

Text

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Beginning of the End (Read on AO3 here)

August 1st came. Seventeen days until our sixteenth birthday.

And then the 8th. Ten days.

The whole camp seemed to vibrate at ever-higher frequencies, everyone’s fingers on a hairpin trigger. Campers wore their armor from the time they woke up to the time they fell asleep, their weapons always by their side. People made confessions of love, asked for forgiveness for past offenses (except for the Apollo/Ares feud going on), and gave longer hugs. We all knew our days were numbered, and sooner than we would like, the final battle would come, and nothing would ever be the same.

The end of the world started when my brother walked out of the Long Island sound onto the deserted beach.

Deserted, except for me.

“Percy!” I squealed as I rushed forward and flung my arms around him. I had a strange feeling about an hour before that I needed to go to the beach, that my brother would return that afternoon. I had learned to listen to my twin intuition, it usually never let me down.

I could tell something was very, very wrong as soon as I saw him. He stood still as I hugged him, his arms limp at his side. When I pulled away to look at him, his face was sullen and his eyes were puffy. A sinking feeling filled my chest.

“Oh gods, Percy. Did…”

He shook his head. I stepped away.

“I’m so sorry.”

“The mission was a success. We blew up the ship. But Beckendorf—” his voice broke, but he gathered himself, "Beckendorf didn’t make it off in time. I couldn’t save him.”

“He knew the risks.” I didn’t know what else I could say. “He’s a hero.”

Percy’s face was as hard as stone.

“I saw dad.” He said flatly. “I saw his Kingdom. His palace.” I fought back a pang of jealousy. “The war down there is pretty bad, they’re not doing well. Oceanus is getting closer and closer, and I’m not sure how much longer—”

The sound of a conch shell rang out across the sand.

“Shit.” Percy breathed out. Our reunion was about to be crashed. “Who’s on lookout?”

“Connor.” I said, glancing back at the tree I knew the Stool brother was hiding in. Sure enough, he was climbing down it and quickly clambering over the sand dunes. He would be at our side in no time.

“I’ll fill you in later.” He looked back at the water and rubbed his eyes. “Ange?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re the first person I saw.”

I gave him a weak smile and placed my hand on his arm. Thankfully, he didn’t pull away.

The dark-haired son of Hermes was by our side quickly, wearing his usual crooked grin and bounding excitedly.

“Percy!” he yelled. “What happened? Where’s Beckendorf?” And then he saw Percy's dark expression, and his smile melted. "Oh, no. Poor Silena. Holy Zeus, when she finds out . . ."

“Let’s get Percy to the Big House.” I interrupted, and Connor nodded, seeming to get the message. We climbed the sand dunes together, and soon enough we could see campers about a hundred yards away, running up to us excitedly. By the time we made it to the dining pavilion, Percy stopped walking and faced the throng streaming toward us.

“No use trying to hide anything.” He said, his voice burdened.

As I waited for the crowd to reach us, I looked out across the valley and thought about what Camp looked like when I first saw it, what felt like a thousand years ago.

From the dining pavilion, you could see pretty much everything. Hills ringed the valley. On the tallest, Half-Blood Hill, what once was Thalia's pine tree stood with the Golden Fleece hanging from its branches, magically protecting the camp from its enemies. I thought of the stories Percy told me about how they retrieved it. The guard dragon Peleus was so big now I could see him from here—curled around the tree trunk, lending up smoke signals as he snored.

To my right spread the woods. To my left, the canoe lake, one of my favorite places at camp, glittered and the climbing wall glowed from the lava pouring down its side. Twelve cabins—one for each Olympian god—made a horseshoe pattern around the commons area. Farther south were the strawberry fields, the armory, and the four-story Big House with its sky blue paint job and its bronze eagle weathervane.

I had only been here for a year, and sometimes that fact caught me by surprise. It had all become so normal, this crazy world of monsters and gods that I once thought were just stories but now knew were very, very real. Sometimes it was hard to remember what my life was like before I found out who I really am.

In some ways, the camp hadn't changed. But you couldn't see the war by looking at the buildings or the fields. You could see it in the faces of the demigods and satyrs and naiads coming up the hill.

There weren't as many at camp as even a year ago, and Percy told me that it was even less than it had been four summers ago, when he arrived. Some had left and never come back. Some had died fighting. Others—though we tried not to talk about them—had gone over to the enemy.

The ones who were still here were battle-hardened and weary. There was little laughter at camp these days. Even the Hermes cabin didn't play so many pranks. It's hard to enjoy practical jokes when your whole life feels like one.

Chiron galloped into the pavilion first as the campers opened a path for him. He had been letting his beard grow out over the summer, and only then did I realize how wild it had gotten.

"Percy!" he said. "Thank the gods. But where . . ."

Annabeth ran up right past him and grabbed Percy’s arm, not caring that she interrupted Chiron.

She looked a mess. They were all doing so many combat missions recently, she hardly had any time to think about her appearance, much less trying to look good. Her curly blonde hair was a tangled mess and there were perpetual dark circles under her stormy gray eyes. But even so, I watched as my brother’s eyes lit up as he saw her. I saw the way he stood up a little straighter as she ran towards him. I wondered if the two of them would ever get through a conversation without trying to strangle each other, and if they did, maybe something beautiful could come of it.

"What happened?" Annabeth grabbed Percy’s arm. "Is Luke—"

"The ship blew up," he said. "He wasn't destroyed. I don't know where—"

Silena Beauregard pushed through the crowd. Her hair wasn't combed and she wasn't even wearing makeup, which hadn’t been weird for Annabeth, but definitely wasn't like the daughter of Aphrodite.

"Where's Charlie?" she demanded, looking around like he might be hiding.

My heart sank, and I saw Percy glance helplessly at Chiron. Annabeth seemed to notice, too, because she started shaking her head, looking at me as she put her hand over her open mouth.

The old centaur cleared his throat. "Silena, my dear, let's talk about this at the Big House—"

"No," she muttered. "No. No."

She started to cry, and then broke into sobs, and the rest of us stood around, too stunned to speak. The energy in the pavilion dropped from frantic to sullen in a matter of moments, like the air was sucked out of the entire world. We'd already lost so many people over the summer, but this was the worst. With Beckendorf gone, it felt like someone had stolen the anchor for the entire camp.

Finally Clarisse from the Ares cabin came forward. She was dressed in her blood red combat armor, her brown hair tucked into a bandana. She was as big and beefy as a rugby player, with a permanent scowl on her face, but in that moment there was no one else that could’ve comforted Silena. They had one of the strangest, but coolest, friendships at Camp and she put her arm around her, speaking gently.

"Come on, girl," she said. "Let's get to the Big House. I'll make you some hot chocolate."

Everyone turned and wandered off in twos and threes after that, heading back to the cabins. Nobody was excited to see Percy now. Nobody wanted to hear about the blown-up ship.

Only Annabeth, Chiron, and I stayed behind.

Annabeth wiped a tear from her cheek. "I'm glad you're not dead, Seaweed Brain."

"Thanks," he replied numbly. "Me too."

Chiron put a hand on Percy’s shoulder. "I'm sure you did everything you could, Percy. Will you tell us what happened?"

Percy sighed heavily, like just thinking about reliving everything caused him pain. But even so, he started to speak.

He told us about what had happened on the boat, and his confrontation with Kronos. I shivered remembering my own conversation with the Titan just a month before. He told us about the dream he had while he was passed out—seeing the Titans on Mount Othrys talking about explosions and storms and the gods answering their challenge. He said he saw Krios, Atlas, and another golden Titan Percy didn’t recognize. And then he explained how he had been woken up underwater by our half-brother, Tyson, and brought to our father's palace. When he stopped talking, I got the sense that there was something he wasn’t telling us, but I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring it up in front of Chiron.

There was a long silence before the centaur spoke, his voice sounding ancient. "We must call a war council immediately, to discuss this spy, and other matters."

"Poseidon mentioned another threat," Percy said. "Something even bigger than the Princess Andromeda. I thought it might be that challenge the Titan had mentioned in my dream."

Chiron and Annabeth exchanged looks, like they knew something I didn't. I hated when they did that.

"We will discuss that also," Chiron promised.

"One more thing." My brother took a deep breath. "When I talked to my father, he said to tell you it's time. I need to know the full prophecy."

Chiron's shoulders sagged, but he didn't look surprised. "I've dreaded this day. Very well. Annabeth, we will show Percy the truth—all of it. Let's go to the attic."

When we got to the big house, Chiron told Annabeth and Percy to go into the attic and retrieve the prophecy. Then he turned to me.

“Go and tell Carsen to call a war meeting, and if you pass any senior counselors on the way, inform them and send them to the War Room, immediately.”

I nodded and ran out of the big house as fast as I could, not wanting to argue. As I flew by the infirmary I risked a glance inside, but wasn’t surprised to see it empty. I knew Cady wouldn’t be in there, she usually took the night shift and spent her days training the rest of her cabin, but it still would've been nice to see a friendly face. I shook my head, reminding myself I had a task to do, and ran towards the center of camp.

I didn't stop until I reached the lookout tower, a giant structure resembling a treehouse in the heart of camp that overlooked the whole valley. From the top of it, you could see just about anywhere in the Camp, including its borders. Since I arrived, it was always manned, day and night, with a camper stationed to look for possible threats. It was also the place that they sounded the conch from, signaling meals and other events.

I looked up at the massive structure that stretched into the sky, took a deep breath, and began climbing the wooden ladder. I hated doing it, and I hated heights, since every foot into the air brought me closer and closer to Zeus' domain. But the Lord of the Sky hadn’t blasted me with a lightning bolt for climbing the tower yet, and I figured he had bigger problems to worry about than watching his pesky niece encroach on his territory.

I reached the top, panting and sweaty, and found Carsen sitting with binoculars up to her eyes. The daughter of Hermes had light hair which she usually wore in a ponytail with freckles on her cheeks. She had been at camp longer than me, and although she was quieter than her siblings and liked to keep to herself, I knew her to be kind and wicked with a sword. She whipped around when she heard me, her weapon in her hand and ready to strike.

“Angie?” I got the sense she wasn’t used to people in the tower with her.

“Hey, Carsen. Chiron sent me. We need to call a War Council.”

She nodded solemnly and picked up the large conch that sat on a low shelf. I felt a thrum of power radiate from the shell, like I always did when I was around anything from the sea. She raised it to her lips and let out three short and very loud calls—a signal that all senior counselors would recognize. A signal that would send them straight to the war room.

“Thanks.” I said with a weak smile as I turned to start my trek back down the tower. Once the conch sounded, we only had minutes to get to the Big House before the meeting started.

“No problem…Angie?”

I turned back to her.

“Is it true? About…about Beckendorf?”

My heart sank into my stomach hearing his name. I had no idea how word had reached Carsen already way up in her tower, but I didn’t ask. I just nodded.

“Yeah.”

She looked down and let out a heavy sigh, muttering a phrase under her breath. “May his soul find rest in Elysium.”

I didn’t realize she had spoken in Ancient Greek until she switched back to english. “I’m glad Percy made it back, though.”

I nodded, turning once again and climbing out the hole that functioned as a door. “Me too.”

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titanicfreija · 1 year ago

Text

Happenstance

Freija initially tried to weave through the market crowds, but it was generally safer for the public if she simply plowed forward and let them get out of her way. She gave up on making sure Three was still behind her, eventually learning to trust her to keep up.

The road from the Tower to the Eliksni Quarter usually looked more and more bombed out, but apparently some work had been done since Freija last visited.

"Sunny said Eido asked us to meet her at the Quarter, before they went to the alley. I was worried they want an escort," Freija told Three in her comms. "But now I think she just wanted me to see this. It looks great."

"Bunch of mixed crowds," observed Three.

"That is correct!" cheered Eido. She wasn't visibly the leader of this crowd, but everyone kept checking her as the Guardians approached.

Until Three lunged into the crowd to hug the neck of one, exchanging fearful anxiety for awkwardness, allowing the crowd to relax and expand.

"Guardian Freija," Eido said cheerfully. "My father has a question for you. And one of our newest house members."

Freija didn't have to wait long- apparently the commotion was enough to get Miisraaks's attention. He swept forth and bent into a bow with two hands to his chest. "Guardian Freija," he said, centering on her. "Did you truly tell a Kell to watch her own hands?"

Freija's mouth pursed as her face flooded with heat. "I couldn't think of anything else to say," she mumbled weakly. "I was trying to get out of a fight."

The noise Miisraaks made might have been a laugh as garbled through the translator. "Your actions that day brought several Eliksni to our home, arriving in stages over time, all with the same story of a Guardian who did not kill anyone. I did not know what Guardian it could be until I heard that phrase. I do not know what led to this action, but I am grateful for this mercy on their behalf."

Freija didn't know what to say. She did it out of cowardice, not nobility. It felt weird to accept the thanks but she didn't want to admit the truth.

"The fuck did you do, Titan?" demanded Three. She gave Miisraaks a look-over and nodded firmly. "Miisraakskel."

"Hunter," he replied shortly. He didn't step away from her but only because he was being a leader. Freija wasn't sure of the history here but she left it alone.

"I didn't tell you this because I was an idiot--" Three cut her off with a snort and Freija rolled her eyes. "But I got lost in the Dark and they found my ship and stripped it, but then they got hit and crashed, so I could steal my stuff back. But I didn't kill anyone while I did it. Pretty sure I almost got one with my barricade."

"Indeed. She is here, too," said Miisraaks. "She was brought by others for medical treatment."

Freija flinched and ducked her head. "It's a reflex," she mumbled, kicking the ground awkwardly. "She's really lucky the fire didn't get her."

"Indeed," agreed Miisraaks. "It is a defensive maneuver with offensive capacity." His entire head bobbed with his nod. "Rare is the story of mercy from a Guardian. Your actions will not be forgotten."

Someone chittered to Freija's left and Eido piped in, "Especially telling Fikikskel to watch her own hands while running away," with a giggle.

Freija blushed furiously. "I couldn't think of anything else to say!" she objected.

@annieruok94

#destiny 2 #d2 #ocs #writing #freija #scribble #prose #Funny #Eliksni

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misslisamiray · 10 months ago

Text

I said Chapter 2 would be up today, and here it is!

Please note it's roughly 650 words longer than Chapter 1 - having the whole family talking/arguing meant a lot of dialogue. The following chapters will all focus on 2-3 characters, so they should be shorter. 😊

And now, without further ado, I proudly present the next chapter of Down With the Rickness!

The end of the countdown was drowned out by urgent knocking and the rest of the family yelling at once.

“Rick! Let us in! I have a right to know if there’s some kind of alien mutant sci-fi bacteria in my garage again!”

“Grandpa Rick! You good in there? Your flashing cube things said we were all fine, sooo…”

“Dad! What’s going on? Should I be worried? Is the President going to show up in a few minutes with a bunch of guys in hazmat suits, or whatever the interplanetary version of that is?”

“Rick! Come on! L-let us in! What’s wrong? If nothing’s wrong and this is a joke, it’s not funny, and you’re an asshole. But if something is wrong, it sounds bad, and like maybe you need help. So let us in!”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Rick muttered, pushing the cubes and the computer displaying the test results aside. He cleared his throat and said more loudly, “Alright, alright! It’s not locked, and since when the fuck do any of you knock?! You can come in, just maybe stay back. Don’t get too *COUGH!* close.”

The others all looked at each other hesitantly for a second, then Morty opened the door.

“Dad? Are you alright? We uhh, heard your alarms going off, and it sounded like the last one said you have some kind of infection. Is this something we should be concerned about? Those alarms sounded awfully…intense.” Beth said worriedly, taking a few tentative steps forward.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s a system I implemented a while back but never f-finished. It’s supposed to detect any type of viral or bacterial pathogen. From any planet, satellite, etc, in any reality. *Sniff!* And ranging in severity from ‘You may not even realize you have anything’ to ‘By the time you realize you have something, you’re already dead.’” Rick started to explain, keeping his back turned to the others. Unfortunately, at that worst possible point in the explanation, he started coughing badly again. The looks on everyone’s faces became more concerned. Jerry clung to his golf club tightly, now practically hugging it instead of getting ready to swing it.

“R-Rick?...” Morty said timidly, moving a little closer to his grandpa. Beth pulled him back by the collar of his pajama top.

“Sorry again. I know, the timing of that couldn’t have been any worse. Or more clichéd. What I was trying to say was, this system is supposed to automatically differentiate between what’s trivial and what’s serious. But it’s unfinished, and there’s clearly some wires to uncross. So what happened was a high-level response to a low-level *ACHOO!* threat.” Rick continued, his voice lower and more gravelly than usual.

“So what is it exactly? Because no offense Grandpa, but you sound like shit. And I’m guessing the reason you’re not looking at us is that you look worse than you sound.” Summer said. Spotting a box of tissues on a shelf, she tossed it to Rick. It bounced off his shoulder and landed next to him on the floor.

“Dammit, Summer! It’s too early for you to be this perceptive! Ugh. Also, thanks.” Rick grumbled, eagerly grabbing the box.

He blew his nose loudly, then, still not bothering to get up, turned to face the family and continued, “I know, I know. Between the scare the alarms gave us all, and the fact I am clearly not doing great at the moment, me telling you everything is fine is not likely to inspire a lot of *Cough!* confidence. But rest assured, we’re dealing with a nuisance, not a crisis.”

“Rick, you’re still kinda talking in circles and not actually answering any questions. You keep saying, ‘This isn’t serious.’ and “This is nothing to worry about.’ But what is ‘this’, exactly?” Morty questioned.

“*SIGH!* Fine. It’s, it’s… a virus that originates in the Gloppydrop system. It causes the individual suffering from it to experience symptoms of r-random illnesses, cycling through them like you’re on the universe’s worst game show. It’s had millennia to evolve and adapt more diseases into its fucked up little database, so there’s no telling what’s going to happen next.” Despite how calm Rick was about that explanation, everyone else’s expressions quickly turned to varying degrees of horror.

“I’m sorry, but how the hell is that considered a low-level threat?! You have some transforming alien virus that can incorporate any illness, both known and unknown to man! Sure, right now it seems to just be giving you a terrible cold. But what happens if it morphs into space AIDS, or bubonic plague, or some kind of…turning inside out disease?!” Jerry panicked, dropping his golf club.

“Now honey, calm down and let Rick finish explaining. Maybe this really isn’t as dire as it sounds.” Beth said gently, wrapping an arm around Jerry’s shoulders. She then turned back to Rick and sternly switched to, “Seriously, Dad, what the fuck?! I am very worried about you right now, but I’m also pissed because it’s sounding more and more like those alarms were, in fact, justified.”

“No, you don’t get it. This is a mimicking disease. You feel like you have whatever thing it imitates, but you don’t actually have that thing. So you can’t die from it, even if you have the shitty luck of landing on all the worst spaces of its Wheel of Misfortune. And it l-leaves no lasting effects once you’ve recovered. So that’s why, while it has the potential to be incredibly painful, it’s not actually dangerous. Does that make sense now? It better, because I can’t dumb it down more than that.” Rick explained. Jerry still looked confused and more concerned than the others, but everyone else was visibly less worried now.

“I…guess so. Can we do anything to help?” Beth asked.

“Not really, sweetie. *Cough!* *Cough!* There’s no cure, and symptom management changes fast since, you know, the symptoms this virus tricks you into thinking you have do. But it goes without saying I should have something for whatever it throws at me.” Rick answered.

“Ok, so if I’m following this and you’re not bullshitting us, we don’t have to worry about this thing actually killing us, but what does happen if one of us catches it from you, Rick?” Jerry asked.

“*SNIFF!* For fuck’s sake, Jerry, weren’t you paying any attention?! If you catch it, it’ll be the same for you as it is for me – you’ll be varying degrees of miserable for 3-10 days, then be perfectly fine. But it’s probably a moot point, anyway. Infection with Gloppydropian Mimicking Disease is rare in humans to begin with, and, umm… there’s never actually been a recorded case of human-to-human transmission. So before anyone asks again, no you’re not in danger, and yes, the alarm was completely unnecessary.” Rick explained, growing more irritated by the second. Morty and Summer exchanged a look. Something didn’t make sense.

“So, I guess this bug must have a pretty long incubation period, huh? I mean, Gloppydrop? When was the last time we were anywhere near that system?” Morty commented, walking over to Rick. Summer followed, Beth not stopping either of them this time.

“God dammit, Morty, do you not understand what “originates from’ means?! The stupid virus comes from Gloppydrop originally, but it’s spread across the universe. I could have picked it up practically anywhere.” Rick replied crossly.

“Yeah, but you haven’t exactly been off-planet much lately. It’s been at least a few weeks again, hasn’t it? And if this is so rare in humans, it’s probably not something you caught going to the corner bar with Dad and Gene.” Summer pointed out.

“Christ, what is with all these questions?! Yes, children, Mimicking Disease does happen to have an extended incubation period. I most likely contracted it months ago. That being *COUGH!* said, Earth’s not as boring a planet as it used to be these days. Which is cool and all, but one downside is shit like this making its way here. So, while it’s unlikely I got it locally, can’t rule that out, either. *Achoo!* Are we finally done talking about this?! We’ve established there’s no emergency, and everyone’s managed to annoy me more than my illness is. You’re all gonna go about your day anywhere but here and let me deal with this now, right?” Rick snapped. There were a few seconds of silence, followed by the rest of the family all yelling at the same time again.

They mostly drowned each other out, but then Summer’s voice cut through the noise, saying, “Your detection system must be more broken than you think, Grandpa. I mean, apparently, you’ve had this alien virus inside of you for a significant amount of time, and it didn’t clue you in until you were already hacking up a lung? You do see how that would be an issue if this were something serious, right?”

Rick glared at her, but didn’t say anything, prompting Summer to continue, “Also, it was hard to tell with the alarms, but I’m sure I heard it say something about the virus’s origin being Earth. Which is a weird thing to say about Gloppydropian Mimicking Disease, don’t you think?” She gave her grandfather a challenging look, daring him to argue with her. Everyone else was quiet, eyes locked on the two of them.

“What the hell, Summer? It’s stupid early, I’m sick, and do you think anyone’s more pissed off by, or aware of, just how broken the stupid detection system is?! Why are you being such a bitch to me?” Rick yelled. Or rather, tried to yell – his throat hurt and he was losing his voice a little.

“Both of you calm down. Dad, don’t call Summer a bitch. She’s right, and you need to fix that system, like, the second you’re feeling better. I can help if you want. Summer, being right doesn’t mean you can be a bitch to your grandfather, especially right now.” Beth scolded the two of them. Neither Rick nor Summer said anything, as they were now locked in a staring contest. Rick lost when he sneezed again.

“Ugh, I am so over this horseshit already!” he complained, grabbing a handful of tissues and muttering more profanity under his breath.

“Yeah, I bet. It’s a good thing you have this crazy transforming disease that should switch things up and give you a whole new set of symptoms… ooh, any minute now, according to this article I found.” Summer replied, tapping away at her phone and triumphantly showing Rick the screen.

“Are you seriously *Sniff!* fact-checking me now?! What is your deal today?”

“Yeah, Summer. Don’t you think maybe you’re being a little harsh? Rick’s not feeling well, and…” Morty tried to interject.

“Morty, shush. You can go back to kissing Grandpa’s ass after I prove my point.”

Rick, meanwhile, had pulled a small notebook out of his pocket, and was now furiously scribbling something in it.

When he finished, he threw the notebook, and his car keys, to/at Summer, saying, “Listen up, I just decided something. Even though the risk of any of you getting infected is low, we’re not gonna *Cough!* chance it. For your safety and my sanity, everyone’s getting the hell out of my garage now. Sum-Sum! Congratulations! Since you’re being so smart and helpful this morning, you get to leave first and go the farthest away. Here’s a list of shit I need you to get and places I need you to go.”

“What?! Grandpa Rick, you can’t be serious. You’re gonna send me into space, just because I called your bluff about…” Summer started to object. A large, semi-clear purple bubble engulfed her and hovered her outside to Rick’s car.

“Sorry, Summer, can’t *Cough!* *COUGH!* hear you. We’ll talk when you get back in a day or two! Car, autopilot to Space Walmart. The, the good one, just past Neptune. Do not, under any circumstances, go to the one on Venus, understand?” Rick instructed.

“If you’ve seen one Space Walmart, you’ve seen them all, but sure. Whatever you say, Rick.” the car agreed sarcastically, flying off with a furious Summer.

“Dad, I’m not trying to second guess you, but are you sure that was necessary?” Beth questioned.

“Beth, sweetie, you should, uhhh, go to work. You’re the breadwinner of the house – can’t risk you getting *SNIFF!* sick. So yeah. G-go to work.” was what she got in response.

“Dad, I don’t work for another 5 hours, and I’m in my pajamas, and…” Beth started to object. Her protests were cut off by a large bubble, like the one that had carried Summer off, transporting her out to her car.

“Not cool! You being sick does not make this acceptable behavior!” she yelled as the bubble deposited her in the car, then vanished. Beth looked at the house and thought about trying to go back in, but quickly decided against it.

“Why fight it? There’s extra scrubs at work, and it’s not like I particularly want to deal with all this.” she sighed, driving off.

Back in the garage, Rick was saying, “Dammit, Jerry. You still don’t have a job I can send you to to get you out of my hair, huh?”

“Really, Rick? That’s all you’ve got? You are off your game today if you expect that old chestnut to hurt me.” Jerry scoffed, picking up his golf club again.

“*COUGH!* I don’t have the energy to try and hurt you, Jerry. I just need you to be one less headache for me to deal with. Should’ve had Summer drop you off at the Jerryboree. It’s even on the way! Damn, I really can’t think straight right now.” Rick griped, rubbing his temples and coughing more. Morty and Jerry were both watching him closely.

“If it helps, I’m, umm, not allowed there at the moment anyway, Rick. For now, I’m only suspended and not banned, but there’s this investigation pending, and well…” a slightly embarrassed Jerry informed him.

“Really, Jerry? Was it at least worth it?”

“That’s the worst part! No, not at all! It was one quick kiss and a handshake! A limp handshake at that!” Jerry pouted.

“Eww! Dad, why? Why is the whole family like this?! Actually, no. I don’t wanna know!” Morty wailed, shaking his head and covering his ears.

Ignoring his son, Jerry continued, “And now I don’t know if that me said something because he has regrets, or blames me for how pathetic it was, or if it was some random other me who saw and complained because he was jealous, or judging us, or maybe just a tattletale… It keeps me up at night!”

Rick nodded and said, “Yeah, been there. Shit sucks. You have my sympathies, Jer. Hmmm. I’m out of ideas for what to do with you, so just go be stupid upstairs, okay? Or go spend the day with Gene, or… I don’t care. Just *Achoo!* go.”

Jerry studied his father-in-law sympathetically. Summer was right – Rick looked bad. His hair was messier than usual, his nose was running, and his eyes were bloodshot. Still sitting on the garage floor, he was starting to shiver, and seemed exhausted.

“Fine, I’m going. But not because you told me to. I have an idea to make you feel better, Rick. I just have a little research to do first.” he said smugly as he strode out of the garage, clearly proud of whatever idea he’d just come up with.

“Okay, so we’re gonna have to deal with whatever that’s about later, too. Cool.” Morty sighed, at the same time Rick said, “That’s great, Jerry. Can’t wait. I’m sure you’re gonna win a Nobel Prize or something.”

And then it was just the two of them left in the garage.

#rick and morty #fanfiction #fanfic #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez #morty smith #summer smith #beth smith #jerry smith #my writing #my fanfic #also on ao3 #and will be on ff.net as soon as i can figure out how to add a damn chapter #sickfic #down with the rickness

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