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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.

Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.

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“She was lying.”

Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day.

“About how she got to the institute.”

“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.”

“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance.

“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...”

Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.”

Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.”

Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?”

Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?”

Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.”

Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.”

You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London.

Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting.

You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you.

You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means.

You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more.

Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with.

Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table.

They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules.

You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day.

You wonder if they ever get a break.

Maybe this is a break for them.

You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority.

Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy.

You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you.

Except you don’t know your pack.

What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.

Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first.

You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price.

Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after.

Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you.

You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one.

You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs.

As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall.

You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle.

A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers.

You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now.

You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C.

Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too.

You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back.

Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.”

“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit.

You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.”

“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully.

Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most.

Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.”

“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing.

“You hungry?” Gaz asks.

You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting.

Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh.

Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well.

The thought makes something flutter in your chest.

You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?”

“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.”

“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.”

You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you.

Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his.

He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower.

It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either.

“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight.

“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table.

You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone.

You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling.

“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.”

His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own.

You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away.

She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand.

American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one.

“Captain John Price.” He says.

You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves.

“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other.

You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep.

Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta.

“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.”

She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA.

“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.”

“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond.

Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.”

“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says.

You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.”

Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.”

“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.”

“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.”

You nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.”

Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things.

“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.”

Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond.

“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks.

“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says.

“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.”

You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second.

“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.”

A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want.

“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction.

“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.”

You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.”

Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.”

The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole.

“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.”

You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face.

“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?”

You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base.

“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.”

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega.

This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world.

You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age.

Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas.

Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up.

It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check.

Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack.

You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings.

Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world.

Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you.

Or maybe they would have been worse.

“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.”

“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?”

You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.”

“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.”

Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?”

“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.”

“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask.

“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod.

She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?”

“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer.

“And how did that go?”

You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.”

“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?”

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...

You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it.

He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares.

“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer.

She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns?

Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center.

“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways.

You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center.

“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks.

“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night.

“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit.

You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.”

“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.”

You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.”

His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning?

You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being.

The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel.

You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space?

“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.”

He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him.

Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit?

Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence?

Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response?

You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself.

Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive.

“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.”

The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble.

Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...

You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.

Was he...laughing at you?

Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives.

Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside.

“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over.

“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.”

He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.”

You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought.

What to do about Ghost.

He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that.

You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk.

An unneeded disruption to their lives.

You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you.

You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate.

“Can you get a book for me?”

You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you.

“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.

“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile.

“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet.

“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?”

You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.”

Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!”

“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself.

“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?”

“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.”

“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.”

Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says.

You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game.

Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap.

“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him.

He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?”

“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.”

You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch.

He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder.

You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again.

“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.”

You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state.

“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up.

You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made.

You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.”

“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.”

He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face.

Taglist:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx, @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @blue-blue0, @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey, @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee, @141trash @ghostlythots, @lothiriel9, @dillybuggg, @beebeechaos, @konigsmissedbeltloop, @kaoyamamegami, @thychuvaluswife, @idkkkkkkk8363, @wallwriterstuff, @bisky-business, @smile-child-13, @anomiatartle, @dangerkittenclaws, @bless-my-demons, @mystic60, @evolutionarry, @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff, @cadotoast, @linaangel, @rancid-wasp, @codsunshine, @thriving-n-jiving, @slayerx147, @ferns-fics

(If you'd like to join the taglist, let me know!)

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics

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nerdpoe · 1 year

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Danny and Dani and Dan get Alfreded in three fell swoops

So like, sad time, but Alfred dies while Bruce is doing his world tour. He never survived long enough to see Bruce become Batman. Died alone in the Manor, after a particularly nasty fall and a broken neck.

But that was unacceptable.

Master Bruce, insufferable boy, could not lose another paternal figure in his life. Also the Manor was still a mess, and Bruce would need someone to make sure he didn't accidentally poison himself.

So he hid his corpse on the Manor grounds, and got to work.

And he was so glad he stayed; sure, it had taken a bit to stop glowing, but really the floating thing was amazingly helpful in reaching the chandelier, and after Master Bruce had returned he had gotten so many grandchildren.

Fast forward; Danny defeated Pariah Dark, he is Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms, Dan is attempting reformation and is technically a Prince by relation, and Dani is attempting to be Dan's parole officer and is definitely a Princess 100% she never forgets that no sir.

And Danny gets approached by some of the Observants, and they tell him that there is a very powerful ghost in Gotham, one that fully and completely blends in with humans and really needs to come to the Infinite Realms to complete his paperwork. But whenever they show up, this ghost thinks that they're there to force him to stay in the Infinite Realms.

And he kicks their asses.

Brutally.

For a bit he had a tiny kid ghost with him kicking their asses as well, but the kid randomly disappeared one day.

The Observants very clearly outline that this ghost is not Gotham herself, although the tax-evading criminal has been seen having tea with her.

Danny has no desire to deal with this; he just graduated high school and needs to focus on what college he's going to choose, so if Dan or Dani want to throw hands with some weird Gotham Ghost then by all means. Fuck taxes anyways, what did the Zone even take for taxation, what-?

So Danny splits his time college hunting and trying to find out how tax laws work in the Ghost Zone.

Dani goes to the old man first, and Alfred promptly sits her down and gives her cookies and hot chocolate, treats her like the kid she's never been treated like between Vlad and all of the Zone focusing on the Princess thing, and she feels at home for the second time in her half-life.

Dani gets a call from a nervous Observant, and promptly tells him she isn't going back either so nyah.

Dan goes to pick her up, and Alfred asks him if he is quite alright, he looks rather tense, and that if it is a fight he wants then the Justice League could probably use a new member, after all Alfred knows an upstanding young man when he sees one, and clearly Dan just needs a chance to prove to himself that he can be good.

Just like another young man Alfred knows.

Dan gets a call from a nervous Observant, and tells them that he's a little busy stopping an alien invasion, and is a tentative member of the Justice League now so he doesn't have time for their bullshit.

Also fuck taxes.

Finally, Danny has no choice.

He goes to drag this random old man and his little sister back to the Zone himself.

Alfred takes one look at him and slowly slides a flier for Gotham University across the kitchen island.

"Your younger sister speaks well of you," the dead butler says, eyes beaming, "and I believe that, given what she has said, you qualify for one of the Wayne Educational Grants for a full ride, so to speak."

Alfred never gets dragged into the Ghost Zone, although eventually he does learn that they weren't trying to drag him into the Land of the dead but were just trying to get him to do paperwork.

He never goes.

Bruce, however, is very fucking confused as to where these strange kids came from.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #story idea #little too specific to be a general prompt #just an idea

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shaniacsboogara · 26 days

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jojo siwa claiming she's revitalizing gay pop and releasing 'karma' on the same night as conan gray's 'found heaven' and chappell roan's 'good luck babe' is so poetically ironic. it's like the universe WANTS to draw a comparison between jojo and queer pop artists.

the thing that makes queer pop compelling as a genre is the unique storytelling and experiences of queer artists told through their music. that doesn't necessarily mean every song by a queer artist has to be about their queerness. they don't have to scream "hey i'm gay!" in every single song they write. but claiming to be "reinventing gay pop" should mean you're telling interesting stories about your queer experience, right???

'found heaven' by conan gray is about growing up as a queer kid with religious guilt and disapproving parents. he equates being in love in an authentic way to "finding heaven", and the piece as a whole resonates with a TON of queer people in different stages of their lives. some people can look back at their childhoods and how much they've grown since then, some can relate because they're currently going through what conan's written about, and some people can sympathize with the way some queer people are treated, even if they aren't necessarily queer themselves.

'good luck babe' is a song about queerness and compulsory heterosexuality. chappell sings about a woman she was in a relationship with who decided to settle down in a conventional marriage despite being queer. the song reflects the denial a lot of queer people go through (specifically regarding the lesbian experience) and the unfortunate way a lot of them end up repressing who they are to conform to societal standards. it's fun, it's campy, but its message is still poignant.

as for karma… there's nothing inherently queer about that song. the music video for the original version, ‘karma’s a bitch’ by brit smith, featured a heterosexual storyline. jojo buying the rights to a song she didn't write isn't inherently a bad thing, a lot of mainstream artists do that all the time. however, if you're claiming to be a pioneer of the “gay pop” genre and your music doesn't reflect any queer themes or experiences, is it really “gay pop”? again, queer artists don't have to write exclusively about their queerness, but if you try to present yourself as a voice for the queer community without telling any of their stories, you're not going to be lauded as some revolutionary figure. if any of the songs on jojo’s album are actually about her experience as a lesbian or contain any queer themes, then i think she'd qualify as a “gay pop” artist. but so far, she's given us a faux edgy, generic pop song and tried to market it as some insane never-been-done-before feat. and honestly, if her entire album is like this and she continues to market herself this way, it's a slap in the face to all the genuine artists and storytellers in the queer community.

but let's stop talking about jojo siwa and start talking about the incredible queer artists who are truly breathing life into the "gay pop" genre: chappell roan, renee rapp, ben platt, conan gray, girl in red, kevin atwater, baby queen, mitski, clairo, dodie, and SO MANY MORE (feel free to add on some of your favourites because there are so many wonderful artists out there <3)

also: if you have a different perspective on this situation i would absolutely love to hear what you think and if you agree / disagree with this! i love discussing topics like this so feel free to reblog with your own take

#jojo siwa #karma #chappell roan #conan gray #queer pop #also the fact that this rebrand is a coverup for jojo's awful behavior #like be fucking fr #don't use the queer community as a sheild

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weariedwight · 2 years

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((okay, so I think what might be my go-to idea for any crossover verses where Faegalad is not in the world of lotr, is that she was reborn/reembodied after her time in the Halls of Mandos, so it’d give her some knowledge of how she came to be wherever she is, but, she would still be wildly thrown off by any differences in regards to the land (like any lotr/marvel crossovers)

#there and back again (ooc)#((I mean I won't say the only reason because I'm sure depending on the crossover I could figure something else out sfdgjhgdfs #also with marvel it'd be easy enough to say some multiverse shenanigans went down again and she was the #unlucky one to end up in the wrong universe #and to clarify: the Halls of Mandos is. more or less an afterlife for the Elves #where they go to do some soul cleansing and self-reflections and once they're deemed ready #they're reborn/reembodied (reembodied is more accurate since they #*they're given life back in a body similar to their former one and as an adult and not reborn as a child - but reborn is used in fandom)#and they might be sent to Middle-earth? or sent to Valinor - I'm not 100% certain on that bit but I think it may depend on if #they have something left in Middle-earth - otherwise they'#*they'd go straight to Valinor which is the Elven realm/afterlife specifically #although I'm not sure how Faegalad would be permitted to go elsewhere than into Valinor - perhaps if sent to see what became of the world?#and basically continues her courier duties for a stint of time #but yeah anyway that's my train of thought that I'm sticking with sdfjhksdfj))

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tyquu · 1 month

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Ah I remember my question now!! Since Ezra is a growing boy, how does that impact his prosthetic use? I'm assuming they can't just go get him refitted like normal... do they help him resize? Do they build new parts? Or help him find some?

Hiii!! :D) So I doodled out my thoughts as I pondered this question but my handwriting is ass so… I’m also gonna write a little summary too!

Ezra's first Prosthetic was given to him by the same people who performed the amputation on his leg in the first place. Some concerned Lothali citizens who couldn't bare to watch him hop around on his severely infected leg any longer. 12 year old Ezra was pretty pissed about it though (understandably). It didn't help that his first prosthetic was old as balls and awful to walk on.

Thankfully, using bits n bobs he'd collected out on the streets, Ezra was able to tighten the loose hinges at the joints and modify the top to fit better. Alas, he ended up loosing this leg after bopping Kallus over the head with it pretty early on into joining the spectres.

Hera set him up with a pair of crutches and then devoted herself to finding him a replacement. She was determined to find something that was better than his last prosthetic and thought she'd struck gold when she figured out Vizago had one sitting in storage. She haggled hard but eventually managed to pocket the rarity, and delivered it back to Ezra. Sabine helped modify it fit to properly, and to Ezra's delight he discovered that the hinges on this leg were motion activated, and could pack an even better punch (or kick) than his previous one.

Ezra hadn't really manage to curb his habit of using his leg as a weapon on occasion, and during such an incident ended up losing leg 2 (much to Hera's despair). Thankfully, Sabine had helped Ezra do enough maintenance on his last two legs that she was confident she could fix up some similar prototypes using her engineering skills. The spectres all contributed to a scrap box that would be used to build replacement legs whenever Ezra ended up losing or outgrowing one. All of them were very dedicated to scouting out parts for him and happy to help with maintenance.

At some point the rebellion had gotten large enough to start having a more organised healthcare system, and Ezra was offered a spot on the surgery waitlist for cybernetics. Ezra was initially hesitant, however, post the incident on Malachor he eventually agreed.

The cybernetic, although not the most advanced for it's time, is connected to his nerves giving him full mobility over the prosthetic. However, it came with it's own new quirks that took some getting used to. Detaching and Reattaching the cybernetic takes between 2-5 minutes to do, and often requires tools to help, rendering it no longer an option as a spontaneous mid battle weapon. As a result there was no longer need for him to cut holes in the left leg of his trousers either.

Ezra doesn't sleep with the cybernetic (same as one wouldn't with a prosthetic) cause it would be hella uncomfortable. On lazy days, he often goes without it, opting to use crutches around base instead. The cybernetic is waterproof, however, in both snow and sand it can sometimes become clogged and stiff, and may need extra maintenance after the mission is complete. The ghost crew is always willing to help pitch in with their engineering expertise (mainly Hera, Sabine and Chopper) or spare part gathering.

Anywho,,, yeah. I hope that sort of answers that question?? I'm not 100% familiar with how prosthetics and cybernetics work in the Star Wars universe so forgive me if some of this info doesn't check out. ( also if u see a spelling mistake,,, no u don't)

#star wars #ezra bridger #star wars rebels #sw rebels #hera syndulla #sabine wren #amputee ezra bridger #cybernetics #ty tidbit #asks #swr art #ghost crew #star wars fanart

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luvhughes43 · 4 months

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instagram follows | jamie drysdale

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: reader and jamie have been in a relationship for maybe 5 or 6 months and reader hasn’t said anything but the girls Jamie follows on instagram really bother her. she doesn’t want to seem controlling because of her past relationships but she is trying to find a way to bring it up to him. so one day she is feeling a little more insecure and Jamie is trying to figure out what’s wrong and she finally snaps and tells him. like she would say “you haven’t unfollowed any girls on the gram since we started dating and it makes me feel horrible about myself”

word count: 1.1k

you knew it was an awful idea even before you decided to scroll through your boyfriends instagram following. it was a bad idea for multiple reasons actually - mainly your own body image issues. however, you had seen what seemed like all the tiktoks in existence about men and their instagram usage pre and post relationship. also, it didn’t help that you kept getting recommended videos of girls' devastating reactions to scrolling through their favourite hockey players following.

when you first clicked on jamies following list, you thought it wouldn't have been so bad.

Blondes.

Boobs.

Brunettes.

Canadian University Girls?

you went into a completely unwarranted deep dive because really, jamie had never given you any reasons to doubt his faithfulness and yet… you were a half-tub deep into your litre of mint chocolate ice cream with grey’s anatomy playing distractedly in the background.

with jamie gone on a roadie, you had time to push all of your feelings of distrust and discomfort to the back of your mind. you had been in this position before, and with yours and jamies relationship so fresh you didn’t want to say anything. last time you had brought your insecurities up with your ex boyfriend, you had been yelled at and called controlling - which you would rather not relive. even though jamie was much nicer than your ex, you were still having trouble trying to find a way to safely bring the topic up, so you dropped it.

a week later and jamie had gotten back from his trip, completely exhausted but wanting to spend time with you nonetheless, you had tried your best to forget all about his following list.

“how’s my girl been?” jamie smiles at you sweetly before wrapping you into a hug. the two of you rock back and forth for a moment.

“oh you know… the usual,” you shrug, silently loving the glint in jamie’s eyes. he was so pretty.

jamie brings you back into another hug and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “oh i forgot, trevor wants to know if we’ll go out with him tonight,”

“go out where?”

“some new restaurant downtown,” jamie shrugs carelessly as all men do. “do you wanna go?”

you think about it for a moment, did you really want to go out with trevor? ultimately though, you decide that going out would be the perfect distraction you needed. plus, the extra time with your boyfriend might help reassure yourself about your relationship.

wrong. three hours later you were dressed, ready, and sat uncomfortably between your boyfriend and his best friend. their friends sat across from you, all of whom were single and making comments on all the girls that walked past your table. their comments weren’t out of the ordinary, but you couldn’t help but wonder if jamie felt the same way as his friends. if like his following suggested - he liked appreciating other girls more than he let on.

“now she’s hot”

“you should go ask her for her number! look at her ass,”

“i think i just saw a goddess…”

“i’d let her dog walk me,”

with each comment you shrunk into yourself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of your body and your outfit choice. jamie was quick to notice of course, leaning into you and whispering, “are you okay?”

when you nodded your head in response, jamie only frowned.

when everyone’s food arrives and you were still acting off, jamie questions you again, “no seriously… what’s wrong?”

you smooth the sleeves of your top, “i don’t want to get into it here,”

“what?”

“jamie, please just drop it”

things were tense between the two of you for the rest of the night and instead of trying to work through things, you simply order another drink at the restaurant. by the time jamie drops you off at your apartment you were tipsy.

“can you tell me what’s wrong now?” were the first words out of jamie’s mouth when you locked the door behind him.

“no,” you respond quickly.

jamie was rightfully confused. “yn…”

you pretend you don’t hear him. “do you want something to drink?”

“no! I want you to tell me what's wrong with you!” jamie was clearly frustrated and tired of your refusal to talk.

you whip around towards him - still tipsy and upset. “you want to know what's bothering me?” you start, to which jamie nods enthusiastically. “you’re bothering me!”

“what did i do…?”

he was so oblivious sometimes. “i know i shouldn't have looked through your instagram followings but i can't unsee what i saw! all the girls…. i feel sick about myself,”

jamie tries to speak but you interrupt him, “and i don’t want to be controlling and force you to unfollow them but… i just feel so awful and ugly and like… you have so many options out there that you’re probably interested in and-”

“okay wait,” jamie finally interjects. he inches closer to you, his mind still reeling from how fast you were speaking. “first of all, i don’t look at other girls,” you scoff but jamie keeps talking. “and if my following was upsetting you, you could've just told me instead of bottling up your feelings and getting upset with me”

“i use instagram like, once a year and i honestly don't look at my following list it’s from so long ago. so, if you want me to unfollow the people that make you uncomfortable than i one hundred percent will” jamie continues, stepping closer to you and grabbing ahold of your hands.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, sad and confused all at once. you hadn’t meant to blow up all at once, but your past relationships would have never been this kind to you and so you were unsure of how to react. you were almost positive that you were being controlling and you suddenly felt sick. “i didn’t mean it-”

“yes you did,” jamie’s voice is soft now, his hands comfortingly trailing patterns up and down your arms. “and by the way, i think you're the most beautiful girl that i’ve ever laid eyes on. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i don’t want anybody else,”

“i don’t want anybody else either,” you breathe a sigh of relief and wrap your arms around your boyfriend.

the next time you check instagram is when you get a notification that your boyfriend had posted a picture “for the first time in awhile”. the pictures are sweet shots of the two of you, taken by trevor whose presence you can never evade. you get curious again though, clicking on your boyfriends profile only to see that his following had significantly decreased.

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale fic #trevor zegras x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic

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victorgrwrites · 7 months

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Gortash Age/Timeline

For my prelude, see live footage of me at work below. (PS: Mac on the right there is basically my wife, she was very kind to let me ramble about this.)

Here we go. And I think it goes without saying, but spoilers ahead.

So, we have a better idea of Durge's timeline than Gortash, which is helpful since we know that they knew one another before the events of the game. On top of that, we know what each was doing when the other was doing something else. At least, to a point.

We'll start with Durge.

Exhibit A: We know that Sceleritas Fel appeared to Durge on their "age of majority", which is generally accepted to be 18. Could be 16, but we're going with 18 for the timeline.

---

Exhibit B: We know that in the prequel Blood in Baldur's Gate, the main antagonist is Dark Urge, and Sceleritas himself appears multiple times in the story. We also know for a fact that this happens in 1477, 15 years before BG3.

Therefor, we know that Durge CANNOT BE YOUNGER than 18 in the year 1477, and therefor cannot be younger than 33 in BG3.

It's important to note for later on that at this point in Baldur's Gate in 1477, it is very likely Durge has already started the cult of Bhaal or is on the verge of starting it. --- Like I said, easy as Hell, now on to Gortash. Cause he is definitely trickier; we'll be needing to work backwards for this guy. Exhibit A:

Gortash is intent on making a memoir of his life, and has given us a helpful order of events, if without dates and such.

Exhibit B:

We'll start with the heist at the House of Wonders. If you don't know what the House of Wonders is, imagine a giant museum/research university run by NASA. It's a big fuckin' deal, and holds some insane things.

We don't know everything they stole, but we do know some. 1. A Bhaal torture device and some preserved Bhaalist bodies (unimportant for our conversation), and 2. Schematics which served as the basis for the Steel Watch, as well as the submersible.

((I can't find the specific screenshot for the Steel Watch schematics, but just trust me, it exists.)) We can assume that Karlach was sold right around this time, maybe before, most likely right after. The reason why she was sold around this time is because... ---

Exhibit C:

Karlach is a proto-prototype Steel Watcher, or at least of the infernal engines the Steel Watch use. What Gortash most likely got for Karlach were plans/materials/development for the infernal engines.

youtube

So let's recap. We now know that ten years ago Durge and Gortash pulled their heist, traded Karlach, figured out infernal engines, and started production or development on the Steel Watchers. Neither were the chosen of their gods yet, and the Crown of Karsus wasn't even on their radar.

Let's keep going. --- Exhibit D:

The first and second listings in Gortash's memoirs are him founding the Bane cult, and then discovering that there was a Bhaal cult already started. I would posit that Gortash established the Bane cult right around the time of the previously mentioned Blood in Baldur's Gate. At the bare minimum we know that Durge had to have been already active and Sceleritas already trying to guide him. So we can likely say that Gortash established the cult of Bane in 1477. Which means he was not in the House of Hope any longer in 1477.

The Crux of the Issue:

Here is where we get into speculation, and there's several questions we have to answer that don't have a clear answer. 1. How old was Gortash when he was sold off?

2. How old was he when he escaped the House of Hope?

3. How long after that did he establish the Cult of Bane?

I'll give you my answer for these questions, and my reason why.

Given my previous post, you might know that I subscribe to the idea that Gortash had a knack for artifice when he was young. There's no way a devil/warlock would pay even a small amount for a useless kid. So, at what age is a kid "useful" while still being a kid? My guess would be as old as ten, as young as eight.

Based on the conversation with Nubaldin, I would say he was still fairly young when he escaped. The way he talks about Gortash establishes that the jailor remembers Gortash as a 'sniveling little shit' and 'mischievous little blot of a boy'.

I would put him at about sixteen, absolute tops.

3. I believe he would have started the Bane cult very, very soon after leaving the House of Hope because I have a sneaking suspicion that Bane's influence started at the House of Hope. Might be how he escaped in the first place, or maybe he heard about Bane while there. Either way, I don't think he took very long.

In my head, he's probably around 17-19 when he starts the Bane cult. But also, if there's age discrepancies, this is probably where they come in.

---

And there you have it. I don't focus on his in-game model much, because looks can vary so wildly. Especially when there's years of demonic torture, obsessive artifice study, and dead god cults. The game narratively describes him as a young man, so I generally erred on the side of "young" when figuring out this timeline.

If you've got questions, comments, additions, go on and lay them on me.

#bg3 #bg3 gortash #enver gortash #lord gortash #durge #I'm tired #This took me longer than I thought it would #Youtube

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creedslove · 7 months

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The Millers 💖

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: an insight of Joel's married life with you and fatherhood of a little boy

Inspired by this post after I fell in love with the idea of Joel being a dad to a baby boy 💙

Warnings: fluff and Joel Miller being the best husband and father in the world

A/N: idk besties, I love Joel and I want him to be happy 😭🥺

1.6k words

When Joel had Sarah, everything was harder; he was too young to take that much of a responsibility by himself and yet he did it. Giving up his dream and short term plans, he saw himself seeking a steady job to provide for himself and his baby daughter, and for that he worked hard. Joel Miller had to work his ass off in order to make sure his family would be well taken care of. However, he loved that tiny little baby girl with all his heart, and it was that love that gave him the strength and the perseverance to fight things off and make sure his daughter had everything he could give her. Luckily to him, he did a pretty good job at raising her, stated fact as she blossomed into a beautiful, lovely and kind-hearted young woman, who gave him nothing but happiness and pride when she managed to get into a top-notch university, after all, she was the smartest kid he'd ever met.

He didn't know exactly what to do after he dropped her off in college, returning to the home that had been filled with her presence, her laughter, her joy and her things, was now a home Joel would have to live in alone and occasionally sharing with his laid-back brother. He was still fairly young, he had a successful business and he thought he would spend his next decades leading a quiet, comfortable life, with a lot of work, some fun, some night stands and that was it.

Meeting you wasn't planned, but it ended up being one of the best, sweetest surprises life had given him, and still, he had never thought it would end up in marriage. He figured you two would be together until you got tired of him and found someone better, he wouldn't blame you, he always thought you deserved more, even if it broke his heart. Turns out you didn't want anyone better, younger or wealthier, you wanted him, exactly like he wanted you, so despite Joel being a stubborn man, you showed him your love and you ended up married to the love of your life. Not bad at all.

However, he had never thought of having a second child. Not that he was against it, but he just figured it wouldn't happen at all, he had gone through all of it with Sarah, so he didn't see himself restarting it from the very beginning… that is until you came with a positive pregnancy test and Joel realized he was going to be a father. You were going to be a mother and you two would become parents. It took him some seconds to let the news sink in, he was shocked, he was not going to lie… he knew you two should've discussed the possibility of having kids and how that would affect your marriage and daily life, but since you were already pregnant, he saw that ship had already sailed.

He was terrified, but also couldn't hide the fact he was so happy to be doing that with you, before he knew it would be different than the first time, where he had to handle a newborn on his own and became a single parent, instead you would do it as a couple, together, building up a family, you were about to become The Millers and he fucking loved that.

Over the course of his life, Joel had to learn to be a girl dad, task that wasn't easy at all, he had no idea one day he would have to learn about Disney princesses, and Barbies, and My Little Pony shit and all the sparkly glittery Sarah was so crazy about when she was a kid. And for a rough guy like himself, he had done a decent job. Which was why his whole perspective had changed the moment he learned you and him were having a little boy.

Joel felt like his heart had stopped for a moment, it was the second time you nearly gave him a heart attack during your marriage. It was so new to him, to know that in a matter of months he was having a little boy. He thought of all the things he would like to do some day, such as teach him how to play the guitar, take him to sports matches, play soccer after Sunday lunches, take him to work… there was just an infinity of things he could try. He was excited.

When you and Joel decided to turn the guest room into nursery, was when he began wondering if his son would be the dinosaur kind of kid, or if he would be into space stuff, animals, or whatever, and just to be safe, Joel bought some of each of the items; that way his little boy could choose whatever he wanted and Joel would be a proud dad not matter what.

Three years after you broke the news to him, Joel prepared himself to leave home and come back home every night to his beautiful wife and his sweet little toddler. It terrified him how time flew by and in the blink of an eye, his beautiful Samuel Miller went from a tiny little baby, to a sweet chatty toddler, and in a matter of time he would become a teen and then an adult. It felt like an exaggeration, but that was what happened to Sarah. He just didn't want to miss out on his son's life, he didn't want to waste precious family moments by working too much. Money was a need, but so was his family, and that was why Joel hated the fact he had to work until that late, he knew you would be gladly waiting for him, but Sammy would be just asleep by the time he finally made it back home. He sighed, as he really enjoyed spending time playing trucks, cars, or blocks with his little man.

He got off his truck and walked to the door, opening it to find a nearly quiet home, the sound of TV was there, though it was low enough for him to be aware you were still awake, but he was sure his boy was already in bed. That was why it made Joel so surprise to moment he saw a tiny little thing waddling towards him, his messy little brown curls showed he had already got cuddles from his mommy, which caused him to he sleepy, judging by the way he rubbed his tired little brown eyes - exactly like Joel's.

"Daddy?" He whispered and smiled tiredly the moment he spotted Joel, rushing to him and hugging him tight, giggling adorably the moment his daddy lifted him up and tiny arms wrapped around Joel's neck. "Miss you daddy"

"Miss you too, Sammy… were you nice to your mommy? Did you take good care of her?" He saw his son nodding obediently and you resting against the doorframe, smiling at them. Your heart was a puddle of love each time you saw how good Joel was with your little boy. You walked to them, caressing Sammy's head gently and pecked Joel's lips

"There's dinner for you" you winked at your husband and got his plate out of the oven, as it was still warm and placed it on the table. You walked to him and tried taking Sammy, but he shook his head "no mommy, stay with daddy please" he gave you the puppy eyes and then turned to Joel "can we play trucks after dinner, daddy?" He asked with a yawn and rested his little body against his dad's stomach, fighting sleep as hard as he could.

While Joel ate, Sammy just stayed quiet, his small hands gripping his daddy's wrist and holding his watch. He shook his head when Joel offered him some food, all he wanted was to play trucks with his daddy.

Joel was still hungry and he was eager to finish that amazing plate you'd made him, but he couldn't simply continue eating while his boy wanted to spend precious time with him. He wrapped his arm gently around Sammy's tummy and got up, taking his son with him

"Daddy is done eating, let's play now, okay? But let's play in your room because our trucks are so noisy and we can't bother mommy" he tickled his son, as he used his trick to convince Sammy to play a little in bed before tucking him in. Sammy on the other hand, could barely contain his excitement, he rubbed his tired eyes once more, but this time the giggles came easy as he was taken to his bed by his father. He sat down comfortably and asked Joel to pick his yellow and blue truck: it was his favorite, given by his big sister Sarah on his last birthday. The man smiled at the thought of it, how his kids were adorable, even if the age gap between them was expressive, Sarah was every bit of sweet to her baby brother, and Sammy simply loved her. He handed his son the truck and sat by the edge of the bed. As they engaged in the activity, Sammy told his daddy silly nothings, giggled and smiled, until he was overpowered by sleep. He lay down in bed, and Joel placed the truck on the floor, taking the fluffy dinosaur blanket and covered Sammy. His big hand caressed his son's beautiful face. He might look like Joel, but he was every bit of sweet and lovely as his mommy, you, the woman Joel loved the most and he was so thankful for having given him the best present a man could have: a family.

"Night night daddy"

"Night Sammy, daddy loves you"

"I love you too, daddy"

____

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taasgirl · 2 months

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say something pt 3.

summary: although playing for the same club, pedri and y/n cannot stand the thought of being around each other. enemies to lovers for all my slow burn girlies out there - i got u

a/n: not proofread and all in english + more installments coming soon!!

"Sir, can I get an extension on this? I've got a game the same day." The room was small enough for me to get my voice across. We had finished learning all the content and were just revising and studying for our exams.

"Talk to me after class and I'll see what we can do." I hated asking for extensions and grants on assessments, and I could almost hear everyone in the room roll their eyes every time I asked for one. I was also avoiding Alex. I last saw him at my match where I blew him off. I was planning on talking to him about everything. I really felt bad about how I was treating him.

As the professor wrapped up class, I began packing my things into my duffel. I had training later today, but I was absolutely dying for some food.

I followed everyone down to the exit and stopped at the desk. "Listen Y/N, we're all quite aware of your commitments to football." The Professor, Mr Lanigan, was filing papers into a binder. "But we've awarded you too many grants. I'm sorry, but for this paper the day you are sitting the exam is set in stone."

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. They generally were totally fine with my footballing schedule. "I can't make it then sir. You know how strict they are." He looked at me sympathetically.

"You're a bright girl. you'll figure something out." I walked out after thanking him, but I was pissed. There was no way I could sit that test. Barca were strict. Missing a game for university was a big no no, they were already being flexible with me, allowing me to attend lectures during the day.

After a quick pitstop to the closest cafe on campus, I decided to walk back to the apartment. I needed to collect my thoughts and find out a way for me to attend my assessment while also getting to my game on time and prepared.

While walking through the streets of Barcelona, I was stopped numerous times by fans asking for my photo. Now it wasn't uncommon for me to be stopped, but I took at least 30 photos today which was way more than usual.

As I got back to the apartment, I was greeted by a sleepy Salma. "Morning girly." She was still in her pyjamas, obviously looking for something to eat. "Sal it's 2pm." She shrugged, making me laugh.

"Hey I need to get to football a bit earlier, I've gotta talk with Jonatan." Salma opened the fridge, "Yeah that's fine, I'll drive."

"So do you know what time your exam is?" I was sitting in Jonatan's office, begging him to help me figure something out. "It's from four until five." He shook his head at my response.

"I'm sorry Y/N but you won't be able to make the game." I wanted to throw my head back in anger but I didn't. "Please, is there anything you or the president can do? I can't miss this exam and I can't miss the game." I had found out that the game that I was set to miss because of my exam was an El Classico. I wasn't going to miss that.

"That's not in my power. You must speak to your university and make a decision." I could feel my eyes swelling. It may just seem like a game, but I had been dreaming of an El Classico at the Camp Nou my entire life. This was the first year that they had decided to play the derby at the iconic stadium, and I wasn't going to miss it for the world. "I hope you can figure it out. I'll see you on the field." He stood up and helped me out of the room.

I couldn't look at him as I felt the tears come on. I walked down the hallway with my head down, trying as fast as I could to get back to Salma's car. She had given me keys and trusted me to drive it even thought I still didn't have my license. And right now, it seemed like the perfect place to cry.

I continued walking and picked up my pace. That was until I walked straight into someone. The apology came out of me before I could even look up.

It was Pedri.

He was holding my arms, and was concerned when I looked up. "Y/N are you ok?" I was so angry. I needed to just get all my thoughts out.

"No I'm not Pedri. Everything is so fucked." My voice turned croaky but I kept speaking.

With his hands still on my arms, he pulled me into a random office with him, he told me to keep talking.

"I just can't do school at the same time as this. Why did I think it was a good idea to play football. Or go to university." I had begun crying. "And now I have to either miss out on one of the most important exams I will ever take, or miss out on the most important game of my life." I wiped the tears from my cheek and continued as Pedri stepped closer.

"And I'm sorry if this is gonna come off as rude but I have to go to uni. My job is not as permanent as yours." He pulled me in and held my tight, lightly running his fingers through my ponytail. "If I fuck this up then I need a backup. And there's just so much pressure to do both. I can't handle it anymore Pedri."

"It's ok baby, let it out." I couldn't stop crying. I had bottled these emotions up for too long, and they needed to come out. I just wish it wasn't Pedri who would have to see me like this.

We stayed like that, me in him arms for at least another minute while he reassured me. When I pulled away, he picked up my chin and wiped away a tear. "You're a pretty crier." I lightly smacked him, sniffling. "We should probably get to training Pepi." He agreed, and walked out with me.

We walked down to the changerooms together where he then spoke up. "You can talk to me if you need. I may not be able to relate to you or your situation, but I can understand you." I hugged him. It was all I could do, no words were coming out.

I stepped into the women's changeroom and was met by Salma's eyes. "So what did he say?" I shook my head at her. "He can't do anything."

She got up from her seat to hug me. "You smell like cologne." I blushed into her shoulder, I wasn't gonna tell her about what happened.

"And girls, please make sure you're on time tonight." Lucy spoke to us all as we finished up training. Tonight was the some type of ceremony for our sponsors. These fancy dinner happened almost fortnightly, however it wasn't often that we all had to attend.

Lucy was definitely targeting us. Salma had made us late so many times, walking in awkwardly when someone was mid-speech.

"Oh and the boys'll be there too." The whole changeroom groaned. As much as we were 'one club', we couldn't stand the guys. It was something about their cockiness that really pissed everyone off.

"Girl you look fire. Surely your trying to impress someone tonight." Salma nudged my shoulder while I was putting on my make up. "Watch it Paralleulo, one wrong move and my lipstick becomes foundation."

I chose a gorgeous blue and white dress. It wasn't too formal, but also not to casual - the perfect pick.

"Oh and I'm not driving. Pedri is picking us up." My eyes widened in the mirror. Pedri. Driving us. Pedri? "Don't give me that look girl, I know you wanna jump in his pants."

"That's gross Salma. When will he be here?" Salma peeked out the window. "Now. Him and Gavi are outside." I ran to the window, finding Pedri and Gavi dawdling on the sidewalk. "Come on Sal, let's go down."

Once we approached the two boys, Salma ran to Gavi, giving him a big hug. Pedri and I locked eyes. He smiled awkwardly before coming closer to me. He wrapped his arms around me and I did the same. "You look great." We peeled off each other as Pedri went to Salma, and I to Gavi.

"Alright guys come one we don't want to be late." Gavi ushered to us as we packed into the car. He offered the front seat to me, basically forcing me to sit in with Pedri.

"Y/N chuck on some music, let's see what you've got." Pedri helped me connect the bluetooth to my phone, and soon enough, I had the car pumping to some 2000s pop.

The trip didn't take too long. We were on the road for about 30 mins and it was truly enjoyable. Salma led most of the conversation, but soon enough Pedri and I warmed up.

"Oh guys, does anyone wanna go out after this thing? I'm happy to drive around?" Pedri called out to us, he turned he head to mostly face me. I smiled at him, "Yeah actually that would be great." Salma spoke after me, "Surely we go and pick up some McDonalds."

"Do you know what this is actually for?" Pedri leaned into my ear. We were seated at a table together with some sponsors. Literally just us. "Boy don't ask me, I'm still half asleep." He chuckled at my response.

We spent a decent amount of time talking to the people at our table, most of them were major sponsors of the club. "So Y/N, you think you'll be able to fight for Champions League this year?" The short man opposite me asked. "Of course, I've always got space for silverware on my shelf." Everyone around me laughed, the found my cockiness funny. "Atta girl." Pedri rubbed my back gracefully.

"This is boring." He was playing around with the food on his plate. It was some type of concoction of left-over steak with a dark red sauce. "Shut up and eat your food Pedro." He rolled his eyes before sticking his fork into one of the roast potatoes on my plate. While looking straight at me, he ate it. "Hey don't eat my stuff." I smacked him on the shoulder.

"So how long have you two been dating for?" Pedri practically choked on his food. "Huh?" I looked at one of the women sitting a few seats down from me. "How long have you two been together? I mean with that much chemistry, it's gotta be a few years." My cheeks turned rosy.

"Umm." I cut him off "Oh we're not together." Despite how loud the venue was, I could hear the silence radiating from our table. "Oh woah, I'm sorry. I really thought you were- never mind." I smiled at her almost apologetically.

I leaned over to Pedri. "I'm just gonna head to the bathroom." He nodded.

I walked straight to the bathroom to touch up my makeup. I was feeling flushed from what that woman had said. I didn't think we were too affectionate, or even flirting. Well at least not a lot.

I fixed up my hair before pushing open the door. As I walked through the narrow hallway, I felt a hand from behind pull me in.

I spun around and was immediately pulled into a kiss. Pedri had one hand on my cheek and the other on my waist, kissing me relentlessly.

As I pulled away, I smiled at him. There were faint lipstick smudges on his lips. "You need to stop making out with me outside bathrooms." I punched his shoulder playfully.

"Come here." He pulled me back into him, this time his hands were exploring my back. "You're so gorgeous." I kissed him harder to shut him up.

When we had finally stopped kissing I laughed. "Go to the restroom and clean that lipstick off your face." Concerned, Pedri tried to wipe it off. All I could do was smile. "I'll catch you back out there."

"You good?" Salma had caught me as I entered back into the show room. "Your hair's a mess." I rolled my eyes as we made our way towards the table. "Where's Pedri?" I raised my shoulders.

"Holy shit. You just fully fucked him huh?" I smacked her. "Shut up Sal." She was in awe. "I was wondering where you two went holy shit." I turned her around to face her away from everyone, and from the hallway out walked Pedri.

"You slut." Her smile was from cheek to cheek. "We kissed now please don't say anything." She couldn't stop looking at me.

I found Pedri again and sat back down next to him. “And to think that only a few days ago you smacked the shit out of me.” I laughed at what he said. I stood by my decision to smack him up - he deserved it.

Halfway through the dinner I got a message from Alex, I immediately began responding to him. I needed to tell him how I really felt.

He was asking me for some notes from class. Something about interview techniques. I told him that I was happy to send them through but only when I had gotten home.

“Who you messaging?” Pedri was staring at my phone. “One of the boys in my class - you’ve seen him.” He nodded his head, still reading the incoming messages. Alex was asking me when we could meet up next. I instinctively told him tomorrow. I wanted to right some wrongs with him. He was a genuinely sweet guy, just not the guy.

Swing by mine tomorrow - I need to talk to you

The car ride home was pretty silent, we didn’t end up going to McDonalds and instead Pedri drove us straight home. He hadn’t really said much since we kissed. I put my hand on his thigh, only for him to move his leg away.

When we had reached the apartment Pedri didn’t bother leaving the car. “Come on ladies, I’ve got you.” Gavi walked us to our rooms, and explained how he was gonna go clubbing now with Pedro.

“Don’t get too drunk yeah?” I patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah and don’t let her boyfriend get too drunk either.” I gave Salma a death stare. “Who Pepi?” She smiled at him. “Did you two…” he didn’t finish he sentence. “No we didn’t sleep together god.” He laughed and ushered us inside.

As soon as I had taken off my dress and removed my makeup, I landed straight into my bed. “What’s up with you girl?” Salma opened my door.

“If this is about Pedro… just trust me, he’s literally in love with you okay? Yeah he’s an angry dickhead, but he does really care for you.” I rolled over in my bed “He’s so confusing Sal.”

After what seemed like the longest sleep in of my life, I was woken up by the sound of my phone buzzing. Alex was messaging me about when he should come over - I told him in an hours time before taking my phone out of the charger and checking instagram.

Well if that wasn’t a huge fucking mistake.

Each photo and video in my feed was of Pedri making out with some girl. And that girl wasn’t me. I tried not to immediately jump to the fact that it was last night, but his coat jacket and blue button up were far too recognisable.

I went looking for more and felt my heart shatter when I saw the girl sitting on his lap. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight to his body.

I found even more videos until I couldn’t bare seeing what I saw. Salma cautiously walked into my room. “Hey babes.” She sat down on the end of my bed. “Have you seen the fucking videos?” She looked at me sadly. “Aw come here.” She wriggled her way up to me, holding me as I felt the tears begin to fall.

“I thought he liked me Sal.” She brushed her fingers through my hair. “He does Y/N, he’s just really fucking stupid.”

To me, this feeling was worse than a breakup. We weren’t together but that’s what made it worse. He wasn’t even cheating on me. God he was just out clubbing and making out with a hot girl.

The tears fell effortlessly down my face. “I never want to see his stupid fucking face again.”

“So, has the club figured anything out?” My professor asked. I knew that he was trying his hardest with the university, but they wouldn’t budge. “Nothing sir. I’m just gonna have to bite the bullet and hope they don’t kill me for missing an El Classico.”

He looked at me sympathetically. “Listen, I’m gonna try for one last push. I’ll see what I can do.” I thanked him once more and left the building. Alex was outside waiting for me - I told him that I was too unwell to meet up yesterday.

“Hello beautiful.” He kissed me on the cheek and took the tote hanging off my shoulder. “Are you still okay for lunch?” I nodded at him, and soon enough we were in his car.

He was driving us to a local Thai restaurant - apparently it was his favourite. When we entered, I realised it wasn’t just a Thai restaurant. It was undoubtedly one of the fanciest restaurants I had ever been in. “Oh wow Alex, you really didn’t need to do all this.”

“It’s honestly nothing if it means I get to spend time with you.” I blushed and picked up my glass of water.

“So what’d you need to tell me?” His eyes were on the menu but still directed his voice at me.

“Umm.” I had no idea what to say. If Pedri wasn’t a complete and utter dickhead - making out with randos right after me, I would’ve told Alex that I wanted to end things.

But if Pedri really didn’t feel the way I thought he did, then I wasn’t going to waste my time or energy on him. “You know what, it’s nothing.” He smiled at me.

We were sat for at least two hours, letting ourselves completely loose; talking about anything and everything. As we finished up, he insisted that he paid. “Please, seriously it’s my treat.”

After lunch, we took a leisurely stroll close in the Botanic Gardens. Alex couldn’t stop taking photos of the flowers, and after a few accidental brushes, our hands were interlinked.

“Y/N you know I really like you right?” We walked past a grand oak tree, I smiled assuringly at him. “Like I genuinely see you as someone I want in my life for a long time.”

I froze. I liked Alex sure, but I wasn’t ready for that type of commitment. “Alex, I genuinely do enjoy spending time with you but I can’t commit to anything right now.”

His head dropped. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed my hand. “I understand.”

“Omg Y/N! Please can we get a photo?” I immediately dropped his hand. “Sure girls.”

Pedri’s POV

“The fuck is this shit?” I threw my phone across the room. “Calm down Pepi what is it?” Gavi called out to me.

“Is it Y/N?” He walked into my room and picked up the phone one the floor. “Oh shit.” He muttered to himself.

“So did that kiss mean nothing to her?” I practically shouted at Gavi.

“Oh, so she can’t go out to lunch with some random guy, but you’re allowed to make out with the first girl that jumps on you?” He chucked the phone at me.

“Salma called me and Y/N is pissed Pepi. That girl is absolutely head over heels for you, but you can’t control your dick enough to see how good she is to you.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah well what the fuck do you expect me to do when I see her messaging a guy, telling him to come over right after I fucking confessed my feelings to her?”

“I always knew she was whore, I just didn’t expect her to fucking use me.” Gavi slapped me. Right across the face. “Don’t call her that.” I stared at him. “Get the fuck out.”

“You need to talk to her Pedro. She’s really hurt.”

you know the drill! lmk if you like this series and want to be tagged in the next!! some accts wouldnt let me tag so sorry if that was u.

if you have any reqs pls submit them, i'm working on a few rn!!

@poppyflower-22 @girlidekanymore @heli991113 @xxenia14

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Note

Hello🥰 It's not a request per say, but I'm really curious what's one of your favorite Joel headcanons if it's ok to share it now? Your writing is amazing, thank you for sharing it with us!

Jules, I am so glad you asked this question. I've been dying to just talk about the things Joel Miller enjoys.

(Also, thank you so much?! It means the world you enjoy my writing! <3)

Starting from the top, shall we? Pre-outbreak Joel Miller, well..

He's reserved only to people he doesn't trust. If you don't know a thing about Joel Miller, you better bet Joel doesn't like your ass.

Worry not about miscommunication—that's a word his vocabulary lacks. Whatever he feels or not for you, he'll make it known. Unless you're his old neighbors, Joel has no qualms about keeping shit to himself. He'll just say it.

His mouth got him into trouble when he was younger. Often.

It's why he learned to react in his mind first, speak later. Too bad his face gives away his feelings anyway.

Speaking of feelings... Joel Miller is a romantic. Big, big time. It's why he's single after all these years and Sarah's mom — "if it ain't the right thing, I don't want it."

Joel's not scared of being alone because he likes his own company. It's why he values so much when he finds another one he enjoys, too. He appreciates real connections. Good conversation.

Hates small talk. Will not do it. Will get away with doing it 9/10 times.

Blood is made of caffeine, sandwiches, and take-out food, which is why...

He's a whore for home-cooked meals. He gets by on his own, but he doesn't have the heart for cooking. Tommy got those genes. Joel would sell his soul for home-cooked meals everyday, and he'll say it to whoever hears it.

Workaholic only because he wants to put Sarah through a good university, but when she complains about the lack of time she has with her father, he compromises. Hires more people, tries to balance work and Sarah.

Balance is not really his expertise. But Joel's good at compromising. Rationalizing. He's a man of structure, of building things from scratch—he knows the value of firm, solid base.

Not really a sports kind of guy, actually. He'll watch it, but... Shrugging it off. "I don't see what the big deal is over a ball. I mean — it's fun, but damn. Breaking windows and busting fists on walls ain't my thing. Not over a damn football, at least."

On the other hand... history buff. Over the strangest, weirdest, most specific topics. Joel has trouble naming three countries in Asia, but he can tell you in details everything about Mayan construction and their society. Go figure.

He's a man of taste. Good food, strong alcohol, fruit picked from the tree, and woman who let him sink to his knees and taste them 'till he's drunk on it. He's starving, quite often.

Joel's a tease.

He can play a game of chicken all night long. No fucks given about how hard he's straining in his jeans or the beads of sweat trailing from his nape down his spine — if you touch him when you two are out, he will make you live to regret it. To whine and cry his name.

Joel loves a playful thing. Seriousness is imbedded in his bones, he loves a person that can make him laugh.

His sense of humor is... peculiar.

("It's shite. You're sense of humor's the same as a fifty-six year old man, Joel." "You say that and yet, you're laughin'... how does that work, beautiful?")

You know his taste? His sharp tongue, his clever brain and quick fingers? Yeah... it makes him a cocky bastard.

Everything Joel has of insecurity, he equals in cockiness once he knows his person's attracted to him.

Reciprocity's big on him.

Joel pays attention to details. He'll remember the outfit you were wearing the day you two met 'till the day he dies, which is why he knows when he's in deep from miles away.

Loves being surprised, exactly because of this ^.

Joel loves through gestures, through words, through action.

Love language is touch, touch, words of affirmation, touch.

Never gonna half-ass anything that matters to him. Never.

Will play to you when he decides to confess his feelings. Will sing his heart out, even if he’s not that good at it (his words), will make himself vulnerable and open like a wound if he thinks he’s in safe hands.

One in a million. Joel’s one in a million and when the right person comes along to appreciate it, Joel only glows. Only glows up, and gets finer with each passing day, like a great wine.

(If you’d like me to do post-outbreak Joel, I could..)

#usernexusnyx #joel miller drabble #joel miller headcanon #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine

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bloatedandalone04 · 29 days

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Bets & Bargains - Part 4

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and bradley hang out for a third time and are both left questioning whether or not a friendship could form between the two of you, or something else entirely.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.7k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley was still thinking about the quick kiss you pressed to his cheek last night, even a whopping sixteen hours later.

Your lips felt soft and unfamiliar, but he found himself wanting to feel them again. And again.

You had only given him a small, friendly peck, but it was enough to have him driving back to the frat house with a semi that only got worse the longer he let himself think about you.

It was quite ridiculous, the effect you have on him. He felt like a teenager again, getting hard from just a kiss on the fucking cheek.

Still, you were his friend - at least he and you were on the way to being friends - and he didn’t want to let himself think about you like that.

He ended up taking a cold shower then going to bed, but to his surprise, he was still thinking about you when he woke up seven hours later. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? He was supposed to be bettering himself so he could get Bri back, but he was barely thinking about her lately.

Bradley grabbed his phone and sat up as he clicked onto his messages, and he saw that Bri hadn’t gotten back to him after he finally texted her a response yesterday.

Typical.

He wished he hadn’t texted her back, because now he had taken the bait she left out and looks like the one who can’t move on, when she so clearly had.

Instead of getting annoyed at her, though, he let his thoughts shift back to you, and he was clicking on your contact before he even realized it.

Would it be too weird to tell you that I thought about you all night?

Morning, by the way.

He figured he had nothing to lose, and if you were weirded out by what he said, then it was a good thing you and he had only hung out twice, so he wouldn’t be giving up too much.

But he should know by now that you two fit each other concerningly well, and how you weren’t one to be scared away by his forwardness.

Y/n: No way, I thought about you, too.

Y/n: Morning, btw.

Bradley felt a dumb grin form on his lips as he checked the time, seeing that it was nearing ten in the morning. He got up and lazily threw his sheets over his bed in a half-assed effort of making it, using his free hand to text you back.

So we’re both thinking about each other. Any suggestions on where to go from here?

He dressed himself in dark jeans and a flannel before throwing his backpack over his shoulder and making his way across campus to his class, and when he found an empty seat and sat down, the text he received from you left him smiling for the most part of the two hour class.

Y/n: Round three?

Bradley suggested a movie night at his place since his roommates won’t be home, and you were a bit nervous to go back there since you would be completely alone with him this time and not wedged between him and a wall like you were at the party.

You were also excited, because hanging out with him had been the most fun you’ve had since attending university, and you were in your second year now.

He didn’t need to know that, though.

You tuned out for most of your classes, and when you changed into a pair of sweats and a cropped tee, your phone went off. Thinking it was Bradley, you pick it up with a smile that immediately drops when you read the caller ID.

Luke.

Of course it was him.

Even though you were actively ignoring him, he still wasn’t getting the hint that the relationship was over. You knew you needed to send him a final text and set things straight, because you were ready to move on, and he was making it harder than it should be.

Please stop texting me. We’re done, Luke. I will always be grateful for you and our time together, but it’s time we both move on. I wish you the best.

That sounded nice, right? You hoped so, anyway. You didn’t want to hurt Luke; you simply wanted him to get the message and stop contacting you until you were both over each other. Maybe you could be friends later down the road, but that was a hard maybe. You were never friends with Luke, you went from strangers pretty much right to dating.

You wanted to take your time with your next relationship, whether that was with Bradley or not. Though, you couldn’t be blamed for hoping that he is your next.

With no further communication with Luke, you pocket your phone and start the walk across the reasonably big campus and towards Bradley’s frat house, and you smirk at the reminder of why you set his contact name as Fratley.

You reach the front steps and knock on the door, second guessing your choice of outfit and wondering if it was too casual, but what else were you supposed to wear for a movie night? Comfy casual? Or uncomfortable non-casual?

When Bradley opened the door in a similar outfit, you felt better about yours, and the not so subtle way he looked you up and down definitely had your worries disappearing and your face heating up. “Hi,”

“Hi,” he said back and opened the door a bit further. “Took you long enough, I’ve been cleaning for the last hour and a half.”

You cover your mouth with a quiet laugh and step into the house. “You mean this place doesn’t look like the aftermath of a party all the time?”

Bradley playfully scoffed. “Do you think I enjoy living in that filth? I hibernate in my room half the time to avoid seeing what new mess the guys made,”

You laugh again and follow him into the living room. It looked a lot bigger than the last time you saw it, without all the people, and it was actually quite nice. “Well, I’m not sure how long you spent cleaning in here, but…” You turn to smirk at him, finding him already looking at you. “Good job.”

He holds his arms out and leans down in a bow. “Thank you,” he returned your smirk. “Did it all for you. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was thinking about you.”

You blush and look away before he could see the effect his words have on you. “It’s nice to see this place not crowded,” you change the subject and move to sit on the couch. “I can’t believe we met at a party here.”

Bradley stays where he is, the smirk still painted on his lips as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, well, if I had known this was going to happen, I would have agreed to that party a lot sooner,”

You playfully roll your eyes. “You’re full of it,”

He laughs and gestures to the doorway that leads to the kitchen. “You pick the movie and I’ll grab the snacks. Are you feeling like soda or something stronger?”

You debate it for a few seconds and come to the conclusion that you don’t want to be drunk this time around, but one drink wouldn’t hurt. “How about one beer and one soda?” You suggest and he nods with a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen.

Your face was still a bit hot as you sat by yourself, and you knew you needed to get a grip. Bradley was just another guy; a cute, funny and confident guy.

Yeah, you were fucked.

Bradley still hadn’t come back when your phone went off, and when you saw that it was Sam calling you, you declined it and opened your text thread with her to let her know that you were busy at the moment. Then she beat you to it.

Sammy: YOU BROKE UP WITH LUKE????

Your heart dropped a bit, though you’re not sure why. You didn’t just break up with Luke, the break up happened months ago, and Sam knows this.

Sammy: Y/n what the fuck

Sammy: You guys were supposed to work it out.

You scoff and type out a response, and you were a bit annoyed that Luke went running to his sister and your fucking roommate instead of moving on and letting things go like an adult would.

We broke up months ago, Sam. That’s not new news. I’m busy right now, so I can’t talk about this. And I don’t want to. I’ll see you at home later.

You lock your phone just as Bradley returns with three cans in one hand, and another can and a bowl of chips in the other. You were a bit impressed as you reached up to take the three cans from him with a laugh. “Wow, no need to show off,” you joked and he shook his head with a smile as he set the bowl down onto the coffee table.

“I don’t like making more than one trip,” he replied and you hum in agreement as you take a chip and watch as he sits next to you. He left very little room in between you, but you didn’t care a bit. This close proximity allowed you to inhale the piney scent of his cologne and see every fleck of gold in his brown eyes.

Oh yeah. You were seriously fucked.

Bradley’s plans of getting Bri back had been completely pushed to the back of his mind, and it’s been that way since he met you.

The more he thought about it, he realized he didn’t miss her as much as he did that morning she broke up with him. He was far too preoccupied with thoughts of you, and that scared him a bit for a few reasons.

One; he met you only a few days ago and has spent more time with you than he has with the majority of his friends.

Two; he was supposed to be focusing on trying to fix things with Bri but wasn’t putting much effort at all into that task at the moment as he sits literally right next to you on the couch.

And three; Eli and Wes might start to believe he’s actually going through with the stupid bet.

Which wasn’t what was happening at all. Yeah, you were the girl he drunkenly and stupidly picked when he came up with the bet, but he was hanging out with you because he wanted to. Not because he was planning on getting money out of it.

“Did you pick a movie?” He asked as you leaned back on the couch and opened your beer, and he couldn’t deny that he found the way you liked his favorite type of beer attractive. You were really attractive, there was no questioning that.

You freeze for a couple seconds before giving him a shy smile. “I did not,”

He laughed and grabbed the remote from off the coffee table and leaned back as well. “Well, pick something,” he said and handed you the remote.

“Why me?” You pout and flip through the possible options of movies. “I don’t know what kind of movies you like.”

“I’ll watch anything,” he shrugged and opened his beer, hoping the cold liquid would help ease his heated body. He had no idea why he reacted to you like this, but he felt like an out of control teen all over again for the second time this week.

You huff and skim through a few more comedies before settling on a horror movie from the 90s, and Bradley lifted a brow at your choice. “What?” You asked as you tossed the remote onto the cushion beside you and crossed your legs.

“Nothing,” he answered, nonchalantly draping his arm across the back of the couch. “I just didn’t take you as a scary movie girl.”

You scoff and glance up at him. “The scarier the better,” you say back and he swore you moved a little closer to him.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who can watch a horror film then sleep peacefully right after,” he challenged, daring to move his leg just an inch closer to yours.

You shrugged and gave him that unbelievably sexy smirk he loved seeing. “Like a baby,”

He refrained from asking you to marry him right then and there, and instead he shifted his attention to the TV mounted on the wall and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. “You’re crazy,” he uttered as he kept his eyes on the screen.

You laugh quietly and sip on your beer as the movie begins.

Bradley had no idea when the small gap between his body and yours became non-existent, but as he held you against his side with his arm around your shoulders and your beers discarded, he didn’t care to know.

You were warm, and it might’ve been from the blanket he threw over the both of you, but he liked to think it was because you were feeling the same way he was.

Your body fits damn near perfectly with his, your height difference making it easy for him to hold you like this without his arm cramping up.

About an hour into the movie you had fallen asleep, your head pressed against his chest and your arm draped over his lap. You had shifted like that in your sleep, and he borderline loved the way your body reacted to his, even while you were sleeping. He turned the sound down a bit until he could barely hear it, but he didn’t mind the fact that he had to really strain to be able to understand what was happening.

Bradley felt himself falling asleep, too, when your phone lit up from its place on the coffee table. He didn’t mean to, but his gaze naturally shifted to the lit up screen and he accidentally ended up reading the text you received.

Luke: What a fucking waste of time, huh? We get into one fight and you just decide to check out? Fuck you, Y/n. Don’t talk to me ever again.

Bradley could only assume that Luke is your lovely ass of an ex boyfriend, and he felt his brows furrowing as a warmth settled over his face.

Who the fuck did this guy think he is? No wonder you broke up with him.

Bradley never talked to Bri like that, or really anyone for that matter, let alone someone he loved. Luke loved you? As if.

He wanted to grab your phone and call the fucker, but you shifted again and drew his attention away from your bad choice of a boyfriend. You pulled the blanket up further and nuzzled your face against the side of his neck, and he felt himself calming down a bit as your quiet and even breathing met his ears.

You were so sweet, how could anyone ever talk to you like that?

Without meaning to, Bradley fell asleep with his chin resting on the top of your head, and the next morning he had a pain in his neck so fucking bad, he nearly got up to take enough painkillers to knock him back out again so he could sleep it off.

Then he glanced down at you, still asleep on his chest, and he thought that maybe it was worth it since he got to wake up to the pretty sight.

The TV had turned off automatically during the night, leaving the living room dark as he had closed the curtains before you got here yesterday. He grabbed his phone and squinted at the brightness as he checked the time. It was almost nine in the morning, and he knew he needed to get ready for his class that was in about an hour, but he really did not want this little moment with you to end just yet.

Reluctantly, he gently began shaking your shoulder after a few more minutes had passed. “Y/n,” he quietly said, watching as you began to stir. “Wake up, babes.”

He didn’t mean to call you that, it just slipped out, but the way you slowly sat up and grinned over at him made him want to call you that all the time. “Morning, babes,” you greet in a hoarse voice, reaching up to rub at your eyes as the blanket falls from your shoulders. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine,”

You gasped, “In the morning?”

“Yeah,” he laughed and began massaging his neck, trying to work out the kink he felt.

“Shit,” you mutter and grab your phone, making Bradley remember the rude text you got from Luke. He hated the fact that he knew what you would be reading the next time you checked your phone, and he wished he could’ve done something about it but knew it wasn’t his place. He’d let you tell him more about your ex if you wanted to, and he’d keep his opinions to himself for now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep and stay over.”

“It’s okay,” he waved you off and slumped back against the couch again. “You must’ve needed it. You slept for quite a while.”

You blush and smooth out your hair. “I should get going, I have class soon,”

Bradley nodded and watched as you stood up. “Do you want a ride back to your place? I’m going that way anyway,” he offered. “I need coffee.”

You laugh and look down at your casual outfit, which was strangely sexy to him. “You know, usually I’d turn down a three minute drive and just walk, but I don’t really want to be seen in this so early in the morning, so yeah,” you answer and pull the blanket off him, folding it and setting it aside.

He huffed out a laugh and stood up as well. “Let’s go then,” he said and began walking with you to the front door. “You look hot, by the way. You shouldn’t care what people see you in.”

You blush again and glance back into the living room, seeing the scattered beer and soda cans. “I can help clean up first,”

“No, it’s alright,” he grunted and grabbed his keys from off the table near the door. “I’ll do it later. I don’t ever make a mess, so the guys won’t get pissed at me for leaving it like that.”

Nodding, you step outside when he opens the door and walk out to the Jeep. Once you are inside, you turn to him with a small smile. “I keep saying this, but I had fun last night,” you say quietly as he reversed out of the driveway. “I know I fell asleep pretty early on, but still.”

Bradley laughed and put the car in drive. “I had fun, too,” he said. “You weren’t kidding about the whole ‘falling asleep after horror movies’ thing, huh?”

You covered your mouth as you laughed, too, and Bradley wondered why you often did that, but now wasn’t the time to ask. “Nope,”

The drive was a short one, and two minutes later he was pulling up to your dorm and regretting not offering to walk with you instead of driving as it would’ve given him a few extra minutes with you.

He put the car in park then turned to you, meeting your eye as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride,” you say in a teasing tone.

Bradley laughed quietly, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then he leaned in and kissed your cheek like you did with him after dinner at Five Guys, and when he pulled away he saw that a pretty blush had taken over your face again. “No problem,”

You smile again and hop out of the car, getting to the third step and hesitating for a few seconds before you turn around and make your way to the driver’s side door. You pull it open and grab a fistful of his shirt, guiding him into a kiss he was all too willing to accept. It didn’t last long, unfortunately, but it still left the both of you wearing dumb smiles when you pulled away. “I’ll see you later?” You whisper and he nods, reaching up to gently tug on your bottom lip before your smile grows and you step away, closing the door afterwards.

You give him a small wave before disappearing into the dorm and leaving Bradley with a heat deep in his body. He had to force himself to drive to the coffee shop a few minutes away, and then back home once he got his fix.

When he entered the house, he saw Eli sitting on the couch with a smirk on his face. “Fun night?” He asked as he nodded towards the cans and empty bowl. “Was it Bri?”

Bradley scoffed as he put his coffee cup down and began gathering up the cans. “No,” he answered and put the cans into the bowl. “Y/n.”

Eli’s smirk grew at that and Bradley instantly regretted telling him about you. “Ah, Y/n,” he laughed. “You really want that money, huh?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes. “No, actually, I don’t,” he replied and grabbed his coffee again. “I don’t want your stupid money, okay? I like Y/n, really. She’s nice and so not the person I thought she was.”

Eli just nodded but was still wearing that stupid smirk as he looked back down at his phone, and it made Bradley feel a bit uneasy.

“I’m not kidding,” he warned. “Let it go.”

Eli raised his hands in surrender. “I’m chilling, man,” he muttered but Bradley knew better.

But he refused to waste his time trying to get his friend to understand him when he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. So he just left him there and brought the bowl to the kitchen before getting ready for class, still thinking about the kiss he shared with you that he wished was so much longer.

He already couldn’t stop thinking about the peck you gave him on the cheek, but now he had gotten a taste of the real thing, and he was so close to throwing out every promise he made to himself about bettering himself for Bri and giving all his time to you.

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darkkryptonian · 10 months

Text

Summary: Natasha is Younger Stark's professor. She catches her fucking another student. There is a twist. (I wish I was better at this)

A/N: Well, you can refer to my Masterlist if you wish to read more of my stuff. Also, request if you wish to. Also, my life has a huge void I do not know how to fill, and last but not the least, you are not allowed.

_____________________________________________

“Professor.”

You greeted the redhead with your eyes as you entered the class. She replied back with a slight nod and motioned you to sit.

“Your behavior has been a matter of concern for a very long time, Ms. Stark. But, what you did yesterday was way out of line.”

She was talking and you smirked. Natasha had walked in on you eating a girl in the women's washroom. You had kept going even though you knew she was in the room so you could give her the release she deserved for being a good girl. You had then helped the girl dress up and placed one last kiss on her clothed pussy before bidding a goodbye.

Then you stood in front of the professor, looking down as she stood a few inches shorter than you. She had asked you to visit her the next day, which brought you to the present.

“We were both consensual adults, doing consensual things in a private space.”

You quipped and she looked at you with an expression that bordered offense.

“This is a University. You cannot do this…”

You smiled and stood up in front of her.

“I am one of the brightest students in this university, if I seek some stress relief from time to time I don't see a reason for you to stop me.”

You had walked closer to her and she took a step back just to maintain distance.

“Ms Stark, this is a university and you are expected to behave professionally…”

“I understand that, Ms Romanoff. But, as per my knowledge it is also a crime to be a spectator of such a scene for fifteen minutes just to get to the release.”

You quipped and her eyes shot up at you with a surprise.

“She was the only one with her eyes closed, Professor. Mine and yours were wide open.”

Natasha's expressions turned into true horror and you stepped even closer.

“I do not care that you were in the audience, Natasha. To be honest, I absolutely adored how flushed you were listening to her call me Daddy. I just wish you had taken permission beforehand.”

You could see her visibly flustered.

“What you did was a violation of that girl's privacy. I am all about consent and I am pretty sure she wouldn't have minded if I asked her to let you watch. She would've even given you a taste, if you wished.”

“Shut up!”

You knew you had crossed a boundary. But, you were a Stark and you were not taught to back down. So, you stood in front of her, looking at her with the same fire that was in her eyes. She finally smiled, and you realized that there was disappointment hidden in that expression. You just couldn't figure out why it bothered you so much when she decided to move away from you to get behind her desk.

“You may leave, Ms Stark.”

She said and you looked at her. Her features were now settled into a calm. You looked at her for a few minutes before finally leaving the room.

_____________________________________

That was the last she talked to you for the next two weeks. She was your professor, but before that she was one of Tony's best friends and a person you had admired for all your life.

Her being so cold towards you was bothering you. So, when she entered the party that Tony threw for some god-awful reason, you decided to talk to her.

It was evident that she was avoiding you. She hasn't even spared you a glance the whole event and you couldn't blame her. The fact was, you had fucked up.

So, when she excused herself for a moment to go into the house, you followed her. You gently grabbed her by her elbow and she turned around.

“Do not touch me.”

She said with the same cold in her voice and you retreated your arm.

“I am sorry, Natasha. For everything.”

You had mustered up all the sincerity you could in the apology.

“No, you are not. You were extremely disrespectful, and you feel no regret for it. I know the girls around you fall for this fake facade you put up, but I am not one of your toys. To think I thought of you as a fucking friend.”

The last part was more of a whisper. You could see she was really hurt with what you had done. So, you stepped forward and pulled her in an embrace. She tried to push you away, but you held her adamantly.

“You are not a toy, Natasha.”

You said and pulled away a bit. You held her chin and made her face you.

“You are so much more. I am so sorry for saying all that stupid stuff. Please forgive me. I cannot imagine my life without your smile. Please?”

She would give you that. You were one heck of a smooth talker. She knew she had no option but to forgive you.

“Okay. But this cannot happen again.”

You nodded and pulled her closer by the waist. You looked at her and smiled when you saw a you're of confusion in her eyes and a light blush on her cheeks.

“Shall we, M'lady?”

She chuckled at your overexaggerated gestures and nodded. You smiled back and led her to the party.

_____________________________________

Natasha knew you enjoyed being by yourself around the university, except for the occasional times she saw you going into secluded corners with different girls.

She also knew you always had girls around you. You were an attractive person. Also, being the heir of one of the biggest industrial empires in the world certainly worked in your favor.

So, finding you in that position in the bathroom was not a surprise. But, still she had felt a twinge of hurt in her heart. Yes, she had wished to be the one to call you Daddy. The affection that she felt was recently developed. The fact that you were so assertive and forthcoming about sex was not helping her case.

When she came in the class the day after you apologized, her eyes found yours and you gave her a small wave. She reciprocated with a small smile and looked into the notes in her hands.

When she looked up she noticed a girl sitting way too close to you. She was whispering something in your ear and she noticed your eyes darkening.

She started the lecture, but her eyes kept darting back to you. The hand of yours that was out of her sight was definitely busy because the girl sitting almost on top of you had her eyes closed now.

By the time her lecture was ending, the girl was heavily leaning on your shoulder, as you occasionally muttered some words in her ear. She was nodding along and you saw her finally clutching on to your arm that was definitely inside her and she bit your shoulder to stop her scream.

You gently tucked a few strands of her hair that were on her face behind her ear and she gasped a second later as your hand came into view. You licked your fingers before wiping them on the girl's dress.

“We are done for today. Ms Stark, stay back. I need to talk to you.”

You nodded looking at her and the girl with you left after placing a long kiss on your cheek. You approached her desk and she looked at you.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“I know you don't really need to study Business Management. You already have two doctorates. Why? Why are you here? Just so you can sit in my class and fuck a person? Is this some kind of sick powerplay for you? If it is, I want you to stop. Because-”

“You.”

You said stopping her rant.

“What?”

“You asked me why I was doing this. The reason is you.”

“You are doing this for me?”

“I have liked you for a very long time.”

Natasha's eyes were widened as she looked at you with a surprise.

“What-”

“May I say my piece? I will not bother you afterwards.”

She stopped and looked at the desk.

“Look at me, please.”

She finally looked up at you.

“I have always been Tony's little sister to you and I understand. But, you were not able to see me as anyone else. This was my attempt to reintroduce myself. I really like you, Natasha. I have ever since we were kids.”

She put a distance between you and her as soon as she heard what you were saying.

“I cannot- leave.”

“But, Natasha…”

“No! No! You don't get to do this. Was the getting with all those girls part about liking me as well? I don't… leave.”

“I am sorry about that. I wish I could give you a good reason for my behavior, but it's just… I wanted to make you jealous.”

The last part was spoken in a very soft whisper.

“You are impossible. Leave.”

“I will. I am… I am sorry.”

You said and looked at her once before making yourself scarce from her classroom. She glanced at your retreating figure before letting go of the breath she was holding ever since you professed your affection for her.

_____________________________________

You had made it a point to not come across her. You avoided every party, every gathering. You even stopped hanging out with some of your common friends.

It bothered Natasha. Ever since you all were kids, you were always present in her life. You were merely three years younger than Tony, and you had become a part of his crew very early on. So, not having you around was not only bothering her, but also everyone else around her.

“Stark! Where's your sister?”

Clint asked as she approached Tony who was standing at the bar.

“Venice. A business dispute that needs to be settled.”

Clint nodded, letting go of the topic, but Natasha was really feeling your absence today.

“Nat! Nat!”

She was woken from her thoughts by Clint as he tapped on her shoulder.

“Where are you?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about work.”

“I guess we have a gang of workaholics. You, Little Stark.”

Just as he took your name, everyone heard distant sounds of a chopper. The helicopter landed at the Stark Residence. The door was opened by your bodyguards as you stepped out.

“Thank you.”

You addressed the person opening your door and walked towards home.

“Damn Little Stark! You look dashing.”

Clint quipped as you approached the table and she had to agree. The all black three piece suit looked divine on you, and as she looked around she realized she wasn't the only person thinking that. A lot of girls around you were spectators of the marvel of your presence.

“Thanks, Barton.”

You said without looking up from your phone.

“I just…”

You motioned towards your phone and picked up a call and went in. Natasha could notice the distress on your face. She decided to follow you in to have a conversation.

You noticed her as she stepped into your room and you cut the call, telling the person on the other end that you will call them later. You motioned her towards a couch in your room and she sat down.

“Yes, Natasha? Anything I can do for you?”

“Where have you been?”

“Well, I was in Venice for the weekend.”

“Not only this weekend. You haven't been to any group gatherings or parties in the past two months. What happened? Is it about what happened between us?”

She asked and you sighed.

“Yes. It is. I need to move on and it won't be possible if I keep looking at those beautiful eyes of yours.”

She looked at you again, this time with a softer expression.

“What if I don't want you to move on?”

“What?”

She moved closer to you and you gazed into those beautiful eyes of hers.

“What if I want to be yours?”

You cupped her cheeks and looked into her eyes.

“Natasha, you asked me to leave.”

“I was… afraid. You are always around so many people, one day you will realize I am not good enough for you and leave.”

“I have been in love with you ever since you taught me that concept in Astrophysics. Yes, in the past few months I have realized that it is love. Every person I have ever been with, I have imagined them to be you. Thinking of you has become a habit of mine and… I love you.”

She looked at you with unshed tears adorning her beautiful eyes.

“May I kiss you, Nat?”

You asked and she nodded. You gently leaned forward and she closed the distance. When it came to sex, you were always an impatient person. You always wanted to get the girl begging as soon as you could. But, with her, you felt the need to be slow. To explore everything that felt right for her and everything that felt wrong.

She pulled away for a breath and you looked at her. You realized that she looked gorgeous this close.

“I love you, Natasha. You don't have to say it back. I just want you to know. I love you.”

You said and kissed her again before she could reply. The kiss got heated soon and you hoisted her up and took her against the wall.

This time when she pulled away for a breath, you started kissing her neck. As soon as she felt you nibbling right under her ear, she moved her neck to give you better access. You softly dug your teeth and her moan after that can only be described as intoxicating.

She was grinding herself on your clothed abs when a ring interrupted your conversation. You got to the bed with her still in your arms. As you leaned against the headboard she was straddling you.

You started talking to the person on the other end as she kept grinding. The expressions on her face were distracting you. Her eyes were closed, and she was clearly enjoying the stimulation. You decided to add on to it, and caressed her perky nipple which was now visible from her dress, with the back of your hand. She moaned at the slightest contact and you started caressing her.

After a minute you realized she was close to her release and you decided to help her a bit. You maneuvered your hand between the both of you and moved her panties out of the way. As soon as her bare pussy touched you, she moaned so loudly, you had to cut the call right away.

“Cum.”

You demanded and placed your fingers between her lips. She hugged you tightly and moaned in your ear. You grabbed her by her neck and pulled her away from you.

“Open your eyes.”

You saw the beautiful green eyes, now adorned with desperation and hunger for a release, begging you. You softly caressed her clit with your thumb and she came with a loud scream.

Her eyes were closed again as she rode her orgasm on your fingers and you couldn't help but admire how sexy she looked so disheveled. After a minute, she hugged you tightly and started breathing heavily. You softly pulled your fingers away from her and she moaned at the softest touch.

“You are coming to London with me.”

You claimed rather than asking and she looked up at you.

“What?”

“We are going to London. I have an important meeting tomorrow and we leave in two hours.”

“But…”

“I believe you know what I feel about people who question my decisions.”

She did. The whole world did. You were famous for going to extents that no one could. So, she nodded.

“Good girl.”

You could feel a shiver going down her body as you praised her. You softly touched her pussy again and she moaned loudly at the slightest of contact.

“Too sensitive.”

She whispered and you inserted a finger inside her. You pulled out the finger after a second and pulled her away from your neck before licking it.

“Next time, I taste it from the source.”

She nodded and you smiled and kissed her.

“I need to pack a bag.”

You said and gently placed her beside you on the bed. She sprawled across and you covered her with the blanket. You were packing when she sat up to lean against the headboard and looked at you.

“I need to pack a bag too. Will you take me home?”

“You don't need a bag. You will be naked anyways.”

She couldn't understand how you could say such things with a straight face. When you looked at her, her entire face was adorned with a beautiful tinge of red.

You walked towards her and held her chin to make her look at you.

“We do not have to do anything you do not wish to, Nat.”

She gazed into your eyes to find any insincerity in your words. But, she couldn't find anything other than pure honesty.

“I want to.”

You pecked her lips and caressed her still perked up nipple making her moan.

“That's a good girl.”

_____________________________________

In an hour, you were both in the plane. You asked the crew to serve the food and sat beside Natasha, occasionally feeding her. Once you were done with food, you took her to the bedroom in the plane.

As soon as you were in the room, you ripped off the dress she was wearing.

“I liked that dress.”

“I'll get you an identical one. Now, get that off.”

You motioned towards her bra and panties as you shed your suit jacket. You then rolled up your sleeves to your forearms and looked up at Natasha. She was standing in front of you, a bit shy, hiding her boobs with her hands folded across them.

“Don't hide from me.”

You said and she took her hands away slowly. You looked at her and you held both her arms in a fist behind her back. You gently nudged her thighs away and now she was standing in front of you completely exposed.

“You look gorgeous when you obey me.”

She looked at you and you picked her up in a bridal carry. You placed her gently on the bed and caressed her hair. Your hand caressed down her belly to her pleasure and you started fingering her.

You moved your hand from her hair to her throat and dug your fingers deep in your girlfriend. She let out a guttural moan at the sudden invasion and you kissed her passionately as you kept fucking her hard.

“Cum.”

You said, looking into her eyes. Her back arched at the command and you felt a pool of her pleasure gathering near your fingers. You let her get the release and moved away from her licking your fingers.

“You taste divine.”

“You are a menace, Stark.”

She said, between her battered breath and you smirked at her.

“Are you complaining?”

She blushed and looked anywhere but at you. You sat near her and pulled her head on your lap.

“I am going to make you my wife, Romanoff.”

“The day you ask I will say yes, Stark.”

#natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #fanfiction #smut #fluff #Very small angst #i don't know #they fuck #marvel #fanfic

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jaazzpur · 4 months

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Morningstar family redesigns

I kinda wanted to expand on my choices for my redesigns for fun

So first, Lucifer. I really don’t have a lot of issues with his original design, I think it’s fun and fits within the Hazbin universe! I just wanted to reimagine him.

I always liked the idea of Lucifer having curly reddish hair, something about his fall turning his hair red (this design isn’t 100% biblically accurate as it is just for fun), but I toned down the red to be closer to his original blonde since I also like blonde Lucifer, and I figured he’d liked to keep his hair neat so I decided to put it up and take away the hat

I wanted to keep the ring leader theme in his outfit, but I wanted to further incorporate the snake element in his design since I think he’d be proud of his fall (hence why his suit looks burnt and torn, and he shows off his burnt arm, I figured he’d do this intentionally to remind others of his rebellion)

Lastly I changed the entire family’s main colors to purple, as biblically out of the 7 sins Pride is purple and since he’s supposed to rule pride in the show I figured he’d be more purple themed then red, pretty simple🙏

Next Lilith, I think she was the only one out of the three where I didn’t really like her original design. Not only because she didn’t have much going on, but she also looked really similar to Lucifer, to the point where they almost look blood related.

I think Viv’s choices for Lilith were a bit odd, as she had SOO much potential that just wasn’t used.

I kept her blonde hair but I gave it some tan undertones and I put it up into a semi-low slicked back pompadour inspired by some hairstyles you might see young women have in the early 1900s or late 1800s, but I gave her a little down section that fades into a dark purple and looks somewhat feathery due to one adaption of her describing her as a “screech owl”. I kept the purple theme somewhat like the original and plus she technically rules over pride as well, I would have loved to have given her a red theme if pride was red.

Based on these different adaptations of Lilith a took inspiration from each, giving her a flame-themed dress and the upper body of a beautiful women yet still somewhat demon-like, I also put some fluff at the bottom of her dress since I thought it looked kinda like smoke puffs and clouds. Her stomach is covered with gold rings that look somewhat like a snake belly, and I gave her a necklace with a style inspired by some eastern jewelry, the jewels on her necklace are each the color of one of the 7 sins which I thought would be a fun touch and a little bit of a “showing off” of her role as the queen of hell.

lastly I kept her horns since she is meant to be a succubus, but I stylized them a bit to look less like those big ram-like ones since I didn’t really like how odd they looked against her head. I also gave her long slender fingers that faded to a black naturally as in biblical lore she steals babies from mothers and I thought making her hands that she stole the children with look creepy and eerie yet still beautiful was a nice touch.

Lastly, Charlie! Again, I didn’t really have a problem with the original design. I changed her suit color and theme to prides color, put I made her hair curlier and more red/orange like her dads, and I wanted some parts of her suit to resemble his a bit hence the buttons and the back of her suit going out like her dad’s (but a bit shorter for convenience.)

I imagine her being a bit showy so I kinda decked her out in silver, I thought it’d also be a fun mirroring of how her mom is covered in gold. Her shoes are pretty similar to the original, I put a little split at the front of the shoes in the dark purple since Viv has said she has little hooves which I’m not sure is true but I thought it was a fun idea so I kinda hinted at it with that

I changed her irises (is that what they’re called?) to look more snake-like like her dad, and I gave her little horns since I thought they were cute and I wanted her to maybe show them on purpose because she wanted to blend in more with the citizens of hell so they might feel less intimidated by her presence as the princess, that’s also why I didn’t give her a crown :]

Overall this was just a fun little project I did out of curiosity and boredom, these designs aren’t made to criticize or taunt vivziepop since like I said I love her designs already

#art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #digital art #purple #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #helluva boss #vivziepop

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seresinhangmanjake · 4 months

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That's Definitely a Name

dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: You need to name your newborn son and your daughter helps.

Notes/warnings: this is inspired by an ask about the moments after their son's birth. I wanted to do it with Oh, Baby, too, so I am doing Oh, Baby first, and then Signed Away. Mention of pregnancy, birth, that's it I think.

Words: 835

Part of the Oh, Baby Universe

"He looks like you."

You snort, but it's weak from your exhaustion. "Well it's only fair," you say. "Eve is nearly your clone."

"That's true." Jake chuckles before he presses a kiss to your temple. It’s a long kiss, and soft, and conveys once more what was earlier expressed with words: “I love you, Honey. You’re so amazing. How did you just do this? How have you done this twice?

That last question has also crossed your mind in the twenty minutes since birthing your son. Twice. You’ve done this twice. But this time, your brain isn’t full of a humming fuzziness in the aftermath as it was with Eve. You’re so alert and aware of your daughter waiting outside the room with her grandmother, of Jake wrapped around you, of your new son swaddled in your arms.

“What do you think we should name this little man?” Jake asks. “We never settled on one.”

During the months of your pregnancy, you’d shuffled through many names for your son, but none of them seemed to fit quite right. For Eve, it was a no-brainer. Without Jake in her life, it was important to you that her name connect to her father in some way, which was achieved by choosing the name of his grandmother. For your son, though, there isn’t someone you can positively name him after without some degree of resulting issue. After your mother’s fit over Jake a few years ago, your father didn’t make the effort to stay involved in your life, and Jake’s is horrid, so they were never added to the list of possibilities. Jake feels that making the little boy a junior will be too confusing, unable to let go of the image of you irritated for some reason and calling out the matching name causing unnecessary anxiety for both he and his son when you are actually only mad at one of them. You tossed around the idea of using a name from your group of friends, but you quickly realized that of the five other men on Jake’s team, four of them would take serious offense if their name wasn’t chosen while the other one would be so sweet as to simply thank you and your husband for even being considered. They didn’t last on the list for more than a day.

“We weren’t given enough time,” you decide as you trace your finger down the line of his tiny nose. “He came too early.”

“I don't think one week before your due date qualifies as too early,” Jake says, snickering. “Let's be real, Honey, we were slacking from indecisiveness.”

“Well, since we can’t figure it out maybe we should just let Eve pick a name.”

You immediately miss the warmth of his arms when Jake pulls back and shifts to the side of the bed to look you in the eye. “Now wait a minute, Honey. Think about what you're saying.” His eyes are wide and his hands gesture wildly with his attempt to snuff out your idea. “I love you and I love our baby girl, but do you really want to risk our son being named something crazy like, I don't know, Meeko? You know she loves that weird raccoon from ‘Pocahontas’,” he says. “And what happens when we don’t take her suggestion because we cannot do that to our son, hmm? This is not a particularly good time for us to be snubbed by our daughter.”

You release a light scoff. “Oh, she wouldn't do that to us, or her brother.”

“She absolutely would,” Jake says with a slight quirk of his lips. His hands fall back to his sides. “Honey, if we truly let her pick, ninety-nine percent chance we have a Disney critter sidekick name for our son.”

You look down at your newborn as you consider Jake’s concern. Meeko Seresin? You internally chuckle. No, that would not do. But your girl is smart and neither you nor Jake have been able to come to a decision on your own. You see no real harm in asking. Not to mention, it would be a prime opportunity to have Eve feel more included now that she’s no longer the only child in her parent’s lives. And if her suggestions are life-ruining bully-targeting disasters, then you’ll deal with her reaction from being denied later.

—

“Teddy Bear!” Eve bursts out as she sits tucked between you and the rail of the hospital bed.

A sigh mixed with a barely-there chuckle falls from your husband’s lips.

“Baby girl, you want to name your brother Teddy Bear?” Jake asks, glancing at the amused smile you’re struggling to hold back before returning his eyes to his daughter.

Taking the question very seriously, Eve’s face loses all expression, her stare unwavering against her father’s. “Yes.”

“After your teddy bear?”

“Yes.”

Jake runs a hand through his blond locks. The other rests on his hip. “Wouldn't you like to think about it for another second?”

“No.”

—

Teddy “Bear” Jacob Seresin

(More Bear and Eve) Digital Daggers: Oh, Babies by @mamachasesmayhem

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie @ateliefloresdaprimavera

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x fem!reader #dad!jake seresin #dad!jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

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purinfelix · 3 months

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show me how ⊹˚. ♡

pairing: reader x spiderman!carlos sainz summary: your new neighbour is a mystery to you, and so is the masked vigilante that you've heard news of around your city - but the chances of them being related are impossible, right? warnings: none! w/c: 2.8k (i don't know how to write short fics i'm sorry)

a/n: after nearly a month away, i'm back !! most of it was bc i was on holiday but also bc I've had the worst writers block ... also i can't decide if i have horrible or amazing timing given the news abt lewis butttt its ok!!! just hope yall enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3333 (just note it might be a little rough ...)

You didn’t know that much about your neighbours.

Granted, it had only been about two months since they moved into the apartment next door and for the most part, they kept to themselves. But, during this short period, you’d managed to compile a list of facts you knew about them for no reason other than pure curiosity.

You knew they hosted quests quite often, almost once a week, which you could always tell by the loud music and banter that went on late into the night whenever they did. You knew the woman of the house was an excellent cook, having often walked past their door and caught a whiff of whatever it was she was making for dinner. You knew they were a family, quite a young one, with a son who was about your age and a student at your university. You’d spotted him around campus, often donning a pair of headphones and a hoodie that silently said “Leave me alone”. You’d yet to see him smile though, which you had initially chalked up to some remnants of teenage angst, at least until you spotted him leaving the chemistry labs with an unkempt stack of notes.

Despite these facts, your neighbours were still largely an enigma to you. And for the most part, you didn’t mind - this was New York you lived in, where not knowing much about whoever lived next door wasn’t unheard of. It wasn’t like you didn’t have anything better to do than stalk them too, considering you were swamped with university work, going into your second year as a nursing major.

This painful reminder weighed down on you as you dragged your feet through your apartment door, only managing out a tired mumble as a greeting to your parents. They didn’t seem to mind though, from their spots on the couch you couldn’t make out their faces, but you could tell they were immersed in tonight’s latest news story. The bright light of the television emitted a soft glow, and you couldn’t help but lend a listening ear as you trudged past.

“This just in, reports of a masked vigilante who has been helping the local community at night,” read out the news reporter, an image of the mentioned figure showing behind him.

You couldn’t help but let out an amused scoff as you pulled your backpack higher onto your shoulder, at how ridiculous the guy looked. Even after living here your whole life you had yet to hear anything as ridiculous as some weirdo running around in a mask at night.

Pushing open the door to your dimly lit room, you collapsed onto your bed with a soft thump. The fatigue from a long day of lectures and tutorials seemed to catch up to you as your eyelids drooped and you weakly grasped at your covers in an attempt to pull them over you. Even as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, you could faintly make out the news reporter continuing.

“People are calling this figure ‘Spiderman’, due to his red and blue suit reminiscent of the bug, The individual’s identity remains unknown though, and any persons with any information are encouraged to talk to their local police about it.”

You wake to a tapping sound. It’s quiet at first, but starts to get louder and more desperate before ultimately rousing you from your sleep, confused and disoriented. You push your hair out of your face and can just make out the time on your bedside clock, which blinks “2:34am”. Wiping a line of drool dribbling down your cheek with embarrassment, you whip your neck around to locate the source of the tapping noise.

That is, until you spot it, a shadowy figure peeking out of the corner of your window. Initially, your instinct is to scream as loud as humanely possible, but instead your body freezes you in place. Resigned to just staring at the figure with eyes wide in shock, you watch in horror, as it lifts a finger to what you assume is its mouth, signalling for you to be quiet. You bob your head to signal that you understand, and your arm springs up with a mind of its own, already reaching to open the window - although whether it’s to wave it away or let it in you aren’t entirely sure.

The decision isn’t yours to make though, since the second an opening forms in your window the figure slips its fingers in and lifts it up with ease. Before you even realise it, it’s slipped seamlessly into the bedroom, your bedroom, where it stands in place. You let out a shaky breath, your hand fumbling in the darkness for you lamp which you flick on, basking your room in a warm light and illuminating the figure in front of you in all of its red and blue glory. You feel your breath hitch in your throat.

“… Spiderman?” you gasp breathlessly, and the name sounds unreal coming from your mouth, mostly because you never thougt you’d say it out loud, ever. The figure in front of you shows no reaction though, as it moves its arm, and you flinch, only before you realise it’s reaching to pull its mask off.

First pops out a long, messy mop of dark hair, which falls over his eyes just as his mask falls to the ground. Bringing up a hand, he brushed his locks out of the way to reveal a familiar face.

You’re rendered speechless, unable to do anything but let out a confused huff as you take in the features of your neighbour. Instinctively, your hand reaches out to grasp his shoulder, almost as if to make sure he’s real and not just a figment of a really really strange dream. It’s almost too much for you to wrap your head around, until he steps closer to you, further into the light, and you notice a rip in his suit not far from where your hand is, spanning from his shoulder to the centre of his chest.

You take a step back, and realise its one of many rips, some revealing gaping wounds and sores. In the light you can also notice his chest, the way it’s heaving, and the exhausted look on his face.

“Look, I’ll answer all your questions later, I just,” he pauses to chew on his bottom lip and to catch his breath, “I need your help.”

You try not to think too much about how deep his voice sounds, compared to what you expected, having never heard it before, and focus on the issue at hand. You’re inclined to do the normal thing, to turn him away, to tell this stranger to get the hell out of your room, but the desperation in his tone causes you to nod.

“Sit down,” you order, already turning to grab the first aid kit you keep on your desk. Behind you, you hear him let out a tired sigh as he sits on the edge of your bed, which groans under his weight. Kit in hand, you pull up your desk chair and scoot as close to him as you can get. It doesn’t occur to you to worry about just how close you are to your neighbour, who at this distance you’re slowly realising is a lot more attractive than you’ve ever realised, since you’re too busy worrying over his wounds.

You go through the familiar motions you’ve learnt, even with your preliminary nursing knowledge, first wetting a cotton ball with antiseptic to clean up the gory mess he’s made of himself. As soon as the cotton makes contact with his skin though, he lets out a hiss of pain, causing you to shrink back and look up at him with concern.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sternly, although the way his eye avoids yours hints at embarrassment more than anything. You try your best to work quickly, or as quickly as you can with a patient that keeps wriggling out of your touch. It occurs to you though, that this might be the best time to get some answers to your questions.

Okay, so,” you say, once you’ve finally managed to clean up all his wounds and can get to patching them up, “I think I’m owed an explanation.”

“What is there to explain?” he says, and for a moment he sounds genuinely confused - as if he’s the one who has the right to be confused in this situation - but this gives way to more of a shy tone, “I’m Spiderman, that’s all there is to it.”

“That’s all there is?” you scoff, pulling out big wads of gauze from your kit, “you don’t just become a masked vigilante overnight, tell me from the start.”

“Well actually, I kinda did,” he lets out a soft laugh, and you’re taken aback by the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him actually smile, “I got bitten by a spider one day and when I woke up the next, I had all these powers.”

“Like?”

“I mean, for one I can shoot webs.”

“What like, from your-”

“No, from my wrists,” he shuts down your question hurriedly before carrying on, “I can also stick to walls, and I have these weird tingles that tell me when things are wrong.”

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the end of your word to show that you don’t entirely believe him. “And this has been going on for, how long?”

“About a month.”

“A month?” you exclaim in shock. “What, so you’ve managed being a chemistry major on top of, being,” you pause, searching for the right word to describe what he is, “a superhero?”

“Well, it isn’t easy but- wait, how did you know I’m a chemistry major?” he leans closer to you, trying to catch your eye with a small smirk tugging at his lips, “have you been stalking me?”

“Hey, it’s not like that okay?” you mutter defensively, “You’re my neighbour, so it’s only normal I’d notice you around campus and stuff.” Avoiding his eye, you press down on a bandaid a little too hard, causing him to draw in a sharp breath, and for you to quickly apologise.

“Anyways, I’m the one asking the questions here okay?” You huff in flustered exasperation, before pausing for a bit, “Why did you come to me anyways?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, motioning to his injuries.

”I mean, yes, but why me? Wouldn’t you much rather your mum or dad do this instead of me?”

He’s quiet for a while, and he can’t bring himself to look at you when he speaks again.

”My, uhm, my parents don’t know about this,” he mumbles.

“Then, a sibling? A friend? Someone you actually know?”

Silence once more, only this time you’re the one to break it.

“No one knows?”

He nods. “No one except for you now.”

The weight of this realisation weighs down on your shoulders like a pile of bricks and you have to pull yourself back from the wound you’re tending to to let it sink in. Here he is, your neighbour, the Spiderman, revealing his identity to you and you only. For the first time that evening, you realise how truly vulnerable the man sitting on your bed has allowed himself to be with you and you can’t help but feel your heart flutter, as well as beat at the immense amount of pressure you know have to deal with.

“Plus, I don’t think any of them would know how to fix me up as good as a nursing student,” he adds, still avoiding your eye, but trying his best to lighten the mood. You let him.

“Oh, and I’m the stalker?”

He avoids your question. “Are you done yet?”

“Almost, one more.”

He watches you work with a quiet, resigned expression, almost fascinated with how quickly you’ve managed to tape down the gauze and conceal his wounds. You lean back to look at your work with a proud smile, closing up your kit and going to put it away.

“Thank you,” he says, and it’s the most earnest he’s sounded all night.

“Don’t sweat it, it’s not like I could turn you away in the state you’re in.” You’re trying your best to maintain a casual composure about this whole situation, even if it means being slightly awkward.

“Good point,” he chuckles, rubbing his nape sheepishly, “well, I better get going.” He’s already reaching out to slide your window up but you stop him by holding out your hand.

“Hold on, you really think you’re going to be able to climb back into your room after that? Your injuries are far too serious, you need to rest first.”

He’s a little taken aback, “For how long?”

“I’d say, at least until the end of the night.”

“If you wanted me to stay over, you could’ve just asked,” he says slyly, and for the second time that night you’re caught off guard.

“Wh- don’t be stupid, I’m the nursing student, and that’s just my professional opinion!”

“Whatever you say doc,” you catch him scanning the room once more, “but uhm, where exactly will I sleep?”

“Oh, you can take the bed, I’ve slept on the floor plenty of times.”

“Now you’re the one being stupid, this is your room, I’ll take the floor,” he insists.

You’re still unconvinced, but you can tell he’s too tired to argue with you and decide to let him win.

“Fine,” you say, the word more a sigh than anything. He looks at you, eyes soft with gratitude and you can’t help but feel a strange pang in your chest at the sight. “Let me get you a blanket at least.”

You turn around to gather a few blankets and a pillow from your closet, which you make into a makeshift bed on the floor, and he watches you the whole time, his gaze heavy on your back. When you’re done, you stand up and dust off your hands before gesturing for him to lay in it. As he does, you climb back into your own bed.

There’s a short silence filled with nothing but the rustling of blankets as the two of you get comfortable, and some soft grunts of discomfort from where he is on the floor. Finally though, the two of you lay still.

“Good night, Spiderman,” you say, forcing a lightness in your voice that you don’t quite feel given the night’s events. You’re half expecting him not to respond, but when he does you can hear the smile in his voice, even though you can’t see him.

“Carlos.”

“Huh?”

“My name, it’s Carlos. You don’t need to call me Spiderman, at least, not now.”

“Oh, right,” you feel almost bad that it sounds like you’re making a mockery of him, and you can feel an apology forming in your mouth before he speaks again.

“Goodnight, doc,” he hums, before turning off the lamp on your desk. Your room is once again plunged into darkness, and you’re left to stare up at the ceiling, and try your best to sleep despite the millions of thoughts buzzing around in your mind.

You wake again, only this time it’s to the sound of birds chirping outside of your window and the first rays of morning sun slipping through it. You blink lazily, stretching out before forcing yourself to sit up.

The first thing you notice is the absence. The floor is empty, the makeshift bed gone and instead a pile of neatly folded blankets takes its place. There’s no sign that anyone else had been in your room, let alone Spiderman.

You peer outside your window, as if looking for a trace of him, evidence that the previous night had been more than just a weird dream, but find nothing. Instead the city wakes up with you, peoples bustling about, cars honking, just like any other day. It still feels surreal, and part of you is ready to label it a dream and move on, but you know better. You remember the desperation in his voice, the tenderness in his eyes, the wounds you had tended to.

Out of the corner of your eye though, you catch sight of a yellow sticky note balanced carefully on top of the pile of blankets. Slowly you climb out of your bed and read it, the letters ‘IOU’ scrawled in a lettering that is definitely not your handwriting. It might not be much, but it’s all the confirmation you need as you whisper a silent prayer for his safety, his health, and for the two of you to cross paths once more.

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