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sundrop-writes · 10 months

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Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

The Titans have faced a lot together, but never something quite as troubling as the possible return of an inter-dimensional demon that shreds apart worlds and leaves nothing standing in its wake.

You hate to admit it, but even standing with your team - you're afraid. Dick tries his best to comfort you, but for once during his career as noble, selfless team leader - he takes a moment to be selfish, and does something that he has been avoiding doing for years.

Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 4, Episode 6.

Word Count: 2,900

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this one is a bit more on the angsty side; this fic features major spoilers for season 4 (and for the majority of the show) - so if you're watching it for the first time or you haven't seen it yet and you want to watch it spoiler free, then avoid this fic for now; the reader character is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; the reader is one of the original Titans; the reader and Dick are childhood friends through the Justice League - the reader is the adoptive child of Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (the reader is a talented marksman and trained in combat); the reader is mentioned to be an orphan (again, aren't all good superheroes); major pining from Dick - he has had a crush on the reader since they were kids (most of this is from his POV, so it's not specified if the reader has returned his feelings for just as long); mentions of canon character deaths; a lot of this is from Dick's POV so - warnings for Dick being emotionally constipated and referring to romantic feelings as a 'disease'; this is an AU where Dickkory never happened; mentions of canon violence - not described in graphic detail; mentions of the apocalypse/the world ending (and the anxiety this can cause); the reader is feeling extreme fear/anxiety due to the possible end of the world; technically - unresolved pining. I believe that's it.

A/N: The second part of the First Kiss series! I had a lot of fun with this one. This is the first really romantic fic I have written for Dick, and I enjoyed it so much omg. I was so tempted to write an enemies to lovers version with him, because he annoys me so much in the canon, and I feel like 'kissing in the middle of a heated argument' would work so well with his character - but maybe we'll save that one for Jason (or Hank, idk). instead, I went with emotionally constipated Dick Grayson, because that is sooo canon. he would not admit his feelings for someone if he had a gun to his head. and I had a lot of fun writing this mostly from his POV. I feel like he is such an interesting POV character to work with, so I might do more from him in the future. anyway, please enjoy!!

...

Stress.

There were few other words to describe the horrible feeling that was dense in the air around them.

Everyone was looking to Dick for answers, and unfortunately, he had none. Sebastian was missing, likely kidnapped by Mother Mayhem in order to complete a ritual that would likely mean the end of the world. Rachel had lost her powers and the Titans needed her unique form of magic now more than ever. Tim was impatient, annoyed because Dick wasn’t letting him use the minimal training that he had. But of course, Dick was hesitant to let the next would-be Robin off the bench after what had happened to Jason.

(Dick could barely bring himself to think about Jason these days.)

Kory was having difficulty controlling her newfound powers, and so was Gar. Which left the team weakened on all sides. Jinx was helpful on the magic front, but she was far from easy to control when it came to executing plans and corralling her rather wild personality.

And Dick didn’t even want to think about what was happening with Conner. He just had to pray that this whole shaved-head, Lex Luthor impression was part of his mourning for his would-be father, and hopefully - it would be temporary.

All of the chaos among the team left Dick leaning on you. As usual, you were likely the only person on the team who wasn’t experiencing any extreme drama. You were the only Titan with some true stability.

And you were the person on the team with the most experience. Even more than Dick himself. Beyond being part of the original Titans team that had helped to found The Tower, you had been trained under Oliver Queen, who was part of the Justice League as Green Arrow. Ollie had taken you on as his own child when your parents died and left him as your carer in their will. Naturally, early into your childhood, he had started training you in the art of combat and marksmanship - so you grew up with intense skill.

You and Dick met soon after he was adopted by Bruce. And much like Donna, you were a kind face and a wise voice that kept him mentally grounded well into adulthood. But you were also someone mischievous that made him smile; someone he could always turn to for a well timed laugh.

You always kept him sane.

And very much unlike Donna - soon after he met you, Dick started to develop feelings for you.

Of course, back then, it was just a silly crush. When he told Donna about it at the time, she laughed. And when he had hidden his face in embarrassment, she then told him that it was ‘cute’. She told him that you two would be good together when you got older. So naturally, Dick took her words as biblically concrete advice.

He decided that he should wait for you. That the two of you would be good together when you got older.

So he waited.

And he waited. And eventually - life got in the way.

He had a huge falling out with Bruce, things at the Tower went south. It was never the right time to tell you. How the hell could he tell his best friend that he had those big, terrifying feelings mounting inside of him, worsening each year like a disease?

It was never the right time to tell you because he was dodging disasters left and right and he needed you more as a friend than as a lover. He needed you as a brick wall to lean on. He needed you as that voice of common sense in his ear - the leader’s loyal first mate, giving him advice behind the curtain and keeping his head on straight.

He didn’t need to tell you about his awful, festering feelings and have you gone from his life too.

When Garth died, and then Jericho died and the Tower shuddered, it still didn't feel like the right time. Wounds were tender and even if you were never downright angry at him like everyone else was - you needed your space. Dick respected that.

That day, you stood at the mouth of the elevator, about to leave for Star City to go and lick your emotional wounds at Ollie’s for a while, and you looked at Dick with tears in your eyes - looked at him like you were waiting for him to say it. But it wasn’t the right time.

He still thought about you every single day when he was in Detroit. And then - he showed up at your door with a scared little girl, needing more advice, needing that brick wall again. It was only natural that when chaos found him, he needed your help.

He hated that your advice was to call in Dawn and Hank. He relied on you, and you relied on family. And he hated that they were waiting at your apartment, called against his will once he had left to do some more sleuthing.

But he found that you were right when he saw how Dawn bonded with Rachel, when Hank put up a vicious fight against those strangers who came to collect her in the name of her father.

Watching you get thrown off that roof sent Dick’s heart through his stomach. As he clung onto the rooftop with his fingers and the muscles of his arm burned, all he could think about was you. As you sputtered out blood and he cradled your head, unsure of how to help you, terror gripped him in a way that it never had before in his life, because he realized that he might actually lose the most important person in his life.

As you lay in the hospital, a set of machines barely keeping you alive, with Dawn loyally holding your hand in comfort and Hank seething to get revenge on the people who had hurt you - Dick ached with regret and not having told you.

Still, when you showed up at that house in Ohio, somehow magically awakened from your near death by Rachel's powers - Dick felt that it just wasn't the right time. He swallowed his regrets like ash in his mouth when he reunited with you, hugged you tight. He didn’t even consider telling you about his feelings to be on the radar of possibility.

When you came back to the Tower to help bring in Doctor Light - it just wasn't the right time. When you showed up in Gotham to help bring down Red Hood - it just wasn't the right time.

Even when Dick died and was brought back to life by some strange magical pit, a pool of waters that brought him dreams of a far off life with you - it still wasn’t the right time.

You were there to Dick's call, loyal and waiting, every single time. You looked at him with as much love and longing in your eyes as he needed (at least, according to Dawn and Donna you did) - but still, it never felt like the right time.

It never felt like the right time to destabilize his entire life by uprooting the one good friendship he had. It never felt like the right time to truly fuck things up with you.

Now, because of some cult that Dick believed to be long gone and a stupid blood ritual, the world was ending, and it still didn't feel like the right time.

He wasn't the son of a demon from another dimension, but he still felt cursed.

When Dick saw you slip out of the room, clearly trying to sneak away from the group, his stomach twisted with nerves. It was rare that you of all people cracked under the pressure. It was rare that you needed to escape from the madness for a breath. He mumbled an excuse to Kory and then chased after you, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to tell where he was truly going - but truthfully, he didn’t care.

He easily caught you in one of the late night deserted halls of STAR Labs.

The many glass walls overlooked the city - a collection of bright lights that made up Metropolis. Thousands of people that you never knew, that you had never met before. People that all seemed too important now as you contemplated their lives; thought about the fact that you might not be able to save them.

Dick saw the sickly look on your face, the glassy sheen of guilt in your eyes even from far off as you leaned on the polished titanium railing that separated the upper floors from the atrium. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall and you heard him approaching from far off. He made no effort to sneak up on you or conceal himself, not wanting to startle you when you were already in such a distressed state.

The minute you looked over your shoulder and saw him, your face broke from that dark, doomed frown into a haste smile, and you reached up to wipe away your tears, attempting to be subtle with that motion. You were trying to hide yourself from him.

Dick came to stand beside you, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms. He desperately wanted to shelter you away from any fear you might be feeling. Maybe it was selfish; wanting to hold you, wanting to protect you from anything in the world that could possibly harm you. Maybe it was downright idiotic - because realistically, he knew that couldn't protect you from this kind of harm. He couldn’t protect you from the world ending.

“Y/N-” Dick murmured your name gently, clutching a fist tightly by his side to resist the urge to reach out and soothe a hand over the trembling muscles of your jaw.

You were holding in a sob, and it came out as a harsh, sarcastic laugh instead.

“I know.” You said. “I know. You're doing that Team Leader Guy Thing.”

You tried to make it sound playful and joking, but with your voice wet and soaked with worry and fear, it came off as a pathetic bid to deflect.

Dick wasn’t sure how to reply. Because yes, he was doing that ‘Team Leader Guy Thing’. He was trying his best to, anyway.

“You're gonna ask ‘are you okay?’ and I'm gonna lie and say ‘I'm fine, boss. All good.’” You continued.

At least you were being straightforward about it being a lie.

Dick wished that he had something genuinely helpful to say, but his throat stalled with dryness and his chest ached at seeing you so distraught. It really wasn’t something that he was used to.

“I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world.” You let out another dry, sarcastic laugh.

Then, there was a moment of silence - a beat of realization as your chin quivered and more thick tears rimmed your eyes.

“It's - it's only the end of the world.” You spoke these words heavier, dropping any false laughter in your tone - it truly hit you. Any further jokes you could make left you.

Dick choked on his own tears when he heard the aborted sob in your chest - something that came out as a whimper when you reached up to clutch at your heart.

You were genuinely terrified. Terrified that the Titans wouldn’t be able to find a solution in time. Terrified that everyone was going to die. Not just the people you loved, but - everyone.

“Hey, come on.” Dick said, his leader instincts, his natural caring for you kicking in. “We've been through worse.”

Working with the Titans, you had been through a lot. Drug busts, battling against costumed psychopaths, the loss of a dear friend to a dangerous assassin. But you weren’t sure that you had been through something worse than this. Everything the Titans had been through had never affected the world on such a large scale.

“Have we?” You argued gently.

Perhaps not. Maybe the only time the team had been in such dire straits was the first time Trigon attempted to come to earth. But that had been when Rachel had been armed with her powers and had been prepared to take him down. But Dick wasn't going to voice those thoughts to you.

You waited in agony for him to say something, and your tears finally breached - rolling down your face in hot tracks, laying marks of the true fear you were feeling, laying it all bare for the first time. Dick knew that his own eyes reflected that same glossy hurt now, if only for the pain he felt in seeing you cry - something that was so incredibly rare over the time he had known you.

Dick reached out and gently cupped the side of your cheek, running his thumb across your face and wiping some of those tears away. You were so startled by the tenderness of the touch that you couldn't help but to let out a whimper, and you felt frozen as Dick spoke his next words.

“It's gonna be okay.” He told you, trying his hardest to sound confident in the words. “We're gonna get through this. I know we will.”

This time, unlike many before, you couldn't be inspired by his confidence.

“Have you - have you considered what happens if we don't?” Your voice barely reached above a whisper, barely daring to tempt fate with this possibility.

Honestly, Dick had not. In these kinds of situations, he didn't allow himself to focus too much on the negative. As the team leader, he did have to take all the possibilities into account. It was something he had to do in order to keep everyone safe. But if he focused too much on death and darkness, much like Bruce did, then he knew that paranoia would overtake him and his team would get caught in the crossfire.

He had to spend his time coming up with solutions to fix the problem rather than spending his time caught up in knots, worrying about what would happen if he fumbled and didn't actually fix things after all.

The literal end of the world? It just wasn't a possibility in this mind.

But right now, standing there, staring into your big eyes, glossed over with fear as you looked to him for answers - there was only one thing that Dick could think of.

And it was so incredibly selfish. It didn’t have anything to do with the team or being a good leader. It didn’t have anything to do with helping the others.

Dick brushed his thumb over your cheek again, an incredibly tentative touch that had your skin tingling. You let out a small sigh, and the world froze around you when he leaned in - slowly, moving toward you at a pace that more than gave you time to escape if you wanted to. But you found that you didn’t want to. You found his closeness to be an incredible comfort in these moments of mental chaos.

And so, he gently planted his lips on yours.

It should have come as a shock - your childhood best friend kissing you. But in that moment, it just felt right. All you could do was shut your eyes and lean into the kiss, reaching up to grip his wrist, keeping him close to you as you leaned into his smothering heat. His lips were surprisingly soft, and he tasted like coffee - using caffeine to keep himself awake for days, trying to marathon a solution against the impending doom.

His kiss was firm but so giving - a touch that easily swallowed you up with heat from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. It was a sensation that pushed out the rest of the world, smothered any worries about who or what might bring an end to it.

It was the most tender, but most wonderfully passionate kiss that you had ever experienced in your life.

When he pulled away, you sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling incomplete without his lips on yours. The shock then began to set in, like pulling the knife from a stab wound and feeling the blood rush out of you freely. It created a dizzying mixture with the heat that was now boiling under your skin.

Why? Your brain screamed out as you stared at him. When? How long had he wanted to kiss you? How long had you been missing out on Dick Grayson?

Dick could see all those questions bubbling beneath your surface as the fear in your eyes shifted to confusion, and he finally decided to speak.

“I'm sorry.” He said quietly. “But if the world does end, I couldn't die without knowing what kissing you is like.”

“Dick-” You sighed, about to go on a long rant about how he could have done that years ago, about how he should have - and the end of the world was a shitty excuse.

But you abruptly cut off your own words when more footsteps squeaked down the hall - the rubber soles of sneakers scuffing against the polished floor.

Dick jumped away from you as though he had been burned, clearly wanting to keep the interaction private. Both of you tuned to see Gar approaching.

“Dick?” He posed. Gar had a look of confusion, clearly wondering if he should question what was going on between the two of you but swallowing it.

“Yeah?” Dick replied.

“Um - Conner's missing.” He announced this in a nervous, meek tone, not wanting to bring the team leader any more bad news.

“What?” Dick gaped.

There was no time to further discuss what Dick had said to you. With the end of the world in your hands, it easily fell to the back of your mind.

...

If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans x reader #titans fanfiction #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson x gn reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #titans hbo #dc titans fanfiction

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almondmilktargaryen · 2 months

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The Girl Who's Got Agoraphobia (Part Three)

*pictures not mine. layout made via canva

Summary: You're the girl with agoraphobia Michael told Oliver about. You're known for not leaving your room much (obviously). But that doesn't stop Michael from checking on you.

Couple: Fem!Reader/Michael Gavey

Category: Flangst, friends to lovers

Word count: 1.7k

Also on my Ao3

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four

N.F.I., Me and You

There was a college Christmas party tonight. You and Michael heard about it. No one told you, of course. You just overheard it from people who didn’t know you were listening. They didn’t invite you. That was a given. When you asked Michael if he was upset about not getting an invitation, he responded (oh-so maturely) by blowing raspberries. Not in your face, though. He’s not an animal.

You quickly learned that not being invited to a college party (of any kind, because you weren’t invited to any of them) had a bright side - the library was all for you. Completely vacant. Quiet and vacant. Your go-to spots are in the back, where shelves wall you in and gawkers can’t peer in through the windows and interrupt your flow. No one does that, but it can feel that way. There was no need to look over your shoulder here. There was no open space for a person to exist. Only books and just enough room to scoot out of your chair. The air smelled faintly of dust and old paper, a comforting scent that always made you feel at ease. The yellow lights in the ceiling cast a soft, steady hum, adding to the peaceful silence.

Most people who show up to the library treat the place like it’s social hour, gathering around tables to chat shit, drown in coffee (that they weren’t supposed to have inside), and not touch a single book. Which is another reason you choose this location every time; no one finds this area entertaining for long. You wouldn’t be surprised if only a few people knew about its existence.

And speaking of only a few people, Michael emerged between the bookshelves, peeking from the side like he was going to scare you.

Well, he did scare you. Startle is a better word for it. You jerked in your seat at the sight of him in your peripheral. The look of instant regret played on his face; wide eyes and a gaped mouth. He apologized with a frantic, “Sorry, sorry!”

You laughed in spite of it. “If you wanted to kill me, then just say it, Michael.”

He snickered at you. “I knew you’d be here. And I wanted to see you.”

Then you looked down at what he was holding. Not books, as expected.

Michael’s eyes darted from the table to you. “Here, I brought you something.” He set the mugs down (a decaf Americano for him, a white macchiato for you). The thud of ceramic against lacquered wood echoed in the quiet, similar to the thud of your heart against your ribs, only on repeat. The rich aroma of coffee wafted up, mingling with the scent of the old books, creating an oddly comforting blend.

You were stunned by it. Not just because of the gesture (it was such a sweet gesture), but because of the obvious. “Michael,” you said to him, “you know the rules.”

“I do.” He smirked, then took the seat across from you, adjusting his glasses.

“Then why’d you bring open drinks from the shop?”

“Because no one stopped me.”

“If we get caught, then we’ll get in trouble.” The anxiety alone of getting into trouble was enough to make your leg bounce. Yet you tried to swallow down the fear. Your throat was already so dry from the winter weather, and you could already feel a sweat percolating under your collar.

“No. They like you too much. Because you don’t do anything.”

That was true, at least. You didn’t know if they necessarily liked you, but for someone who doesn’t leave the dorms much, you’re at least recognizable considering that they smile when you visit.

Michael pushed your macchiato toward you, and you worried it would spill. You pondered, looking at the coffee, then back up to Michael as if he were making you choose between the red or blue pill. The macchiato beckoned you in anyway, so you lifted it to your lips like there was no turning back. It soothed your throat from the winter air. “Thank you.” You pulled a napkin from your blazer pocket to wipe the froth off your mouth. Michael didn’t pick up on how deep your breaths were (because he wasn’t looking at you. He was poking around in his satchel). It was difficult to capture a good amount of air to fill your lungs and rid them of the lingering anxiety. The sip of caffeine you just took was definitely not going to help, but at least it was delicious.

“Also, I wanted to give this back to you.” He held up a collection of Kate Chopin’s short stories. He extended his arm across the table for you to take it.

You did and quickly flipped through the book before putting it in your bag. He completed reading The Awakening a week after he began and was delayed in cracking open her short stories. “So, what did you think?”

“I see why you like ‘A Story of an Hour’ so much. Very much your style of humor.”

At least this time at the end, the woman dying had a funny layer to it; seeing her husband actually not dead from a reported accident made her “die of joy” when she, once again, was happy to not be married anymore.

He picked up his Americano. “I definitely see the pattern you’re talking about. With the marriage part. But it makes sense why it would be so consistent. Given the time and all.”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you said it. Despite your hesitation, you still reached out to take another drink. You could already feel the caffeine coursing. As you tried to steady your breath, you scanned your notes again. You could feel Michael’s eyes on you, and you were afraid he was noticing. “How’s Oliver?”

Michael sighed. “Dunno. I’ve seen him staring a lot at Felix Catton and his group of fucking losers. He’s been acting differently.”

“Really? You think they’re friends?”

“Michael shrugged, his arms still flat on the table. “Not sure. I’ve never seen them together. He still doesn’t talk much, so not the same on the charisma scale.”

Maybe he has a crush on him. Has he talked about him?” You asked slowly, as you swallowed.

“Not around me. He didn’t know about the party either.”

“Hm,” you simply said. Your fingers twitched as the energy reached the ends of your feet. You swore you heard footsteps somewhere between the shelves where Michael came in. You were almost convinced that someone would catch you, clenching your teeth as you prepared for inevitable embarrassment.

Michael leaned back in his chair, looking down the aisle. “No one’s there.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I think someone was just walking by. No big deal.”

“Okay.” Your exhale was slow before picking your pen back up. You lost track of where you were in your rewrites. People like Felix and Venitia Catton and their peers may be more popular, drunk, and social than you’ll ever be, but their grades matter by the end of the semester. At least one of them always needs notes for classes they didn’t attend, especially if they need to retake the class. They’re just as vain, so aesthetically pleasing notes will sell more. You searched through, trying to find where you left off. But your leg bounced once more, the small heel of your shoe growing obnoxious.

“Still nervous?”

You nodded as you searched, finding where you left off and trying to concentrate on your handwriting; being slow and methodical to keep it as neat as a font.

“You can dare to take risks now and then, you know. It’s not always going to turn out as bad as you think.” His tone was earnest as he leaned forward slightly.

But you gripped your pen to instinct, pausing as your stare turned hard, finding Michael in your crosshairs.

He rested his head on the table. His lips disappeared into his mouth briefly as he started to put together that he may have fucked up. “What?”

Okay, maybe not.

“You know it’s not that simple for me. You, of all people, should know that it’s not that simple, Michael.”

“Phobias are irrational. They feed on an extreme lack of logic.” He said it with a mix of defense in his argument. It was as if this was something up for debate.

“I understand how phobias work, Michael. Like you, I am a student at Oxford University. I may not be a genius like you, but I understand my phobia from years of my research and experience.”

Michael picked his head back up. Perhaps the growing heat from your anger started brushing against him. “I just…” his back hit the chair and his posture sank. “I’d rather not see you miss out on four years of Oxford University.”

“My time at Oxford University is for education. Just like yours.”

“You know what I mean.” He blinks as his glasses slide down his nose.

“Do I?”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” He leaned forward, reaching a hand out. He was literally trying to bridge the gap. Any other time, you would’ve taken it.

“You can’t control that.”

“But you can control cows?” The hand was gone, and his tone turned sharp as his words sliced through the library's quiet. “You deserve a break from the academic side of all this. Like everyone else.”

“You think the outside world is a break for me?”

“Well, not exactly but—”

You snapped your notebooks closed and stood to put on your overcoat. “I need to go.” You struggled to keep your voice steady, mapping out the typical path from the library to your dorm.

“Wait, don’t.” He reached out, but you gave him nothing.

You didn’t respond or even look at him. The Christmas party was likely still happening, given it was only seven in the evening. You hoped Michael wouldn’t get up. You hoped he’d let you leave. He knew you didn’t like feeling trapped, but he didn’t seem to know (or care) as much as you thought he did.

You were mindful as you walked between the shelves, conscious of the bookbag you held against your hip and making sure it didn’t knock any books to the floor. The trickle of tears lined your eyes and burned as you tried to hold them back. The library's warmth, once comforting, now felt suffocating, and you longed for the crisp air outside.

Taglist: @anukulee

#michael gavey #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fanfiction #saltburn #michael gavey saltburn #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey self insert #michael gavey fluff #michael gavey angst

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heartthumpnovel · 5 months

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Heart Thump: Chapter 7

“Growing Pains”

Word count: 9437

Just got this wrapped up before I leave for a week! This is gonna be insight to how Jason is dealing with the new big changes in his life (I am not sorry). This chapter was very fun to write because it has my favorite character in it; Oliver :> By they way, since it seems people are getting interested in this story, I've seen people do tag lists for each chapter. Let me know if you're interested in that!

cw: Cursing/Swears

Last chapter: Seeking Answers

Next chapter: It Came From Outer Space

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Atlas Gang Group Chat November 9th @ 3:00 pm

Jason: Just got out of the doctors office.

Jason: Won’t be dying anytime soon, but, It seems like I did get electrocuted at some point on the golf course.

Ellie: FR??? Are you going to be okay??

Natasha: HOW?? OH MY GOD JASON HUN I AM SO SORRY!! I SHOULD OF GOT YOU TO THE HOSPITAL!!!! D’:

Motor: Shit dude. F.

Jason: Now don’t get too upset @Motor.

Jason: But to make this clear, @Natasha you have nothing to be sorry about. It wasn’t obvious and I had a bit too many drinks. I am still not sure what shocked me but I have those lighting scars on my back…

Ellie: Like Lichtenberg Figures? At Least those are the coolest scars to possibly have right?

Jason: @Ellie I guess... I am just lucky I managed to live through it.

Motor: bro you realize you don’t have to @ everyone you’re trying to talk to right??? It’s literally just the four of us here.

Jason: It’s called being efficient @Motor.

Motor: I don’t wanna hear pinging coming for you every five seconds. IT'S CALLED BEING ANNOYING.

Natasha: uh hey are we just gonna ignore the fact Jason nearly died from electrocution or??

Jason: Awh @Natasha It’s quite alright! The doctor said that I had little to no damage and the shock passed right through me. He did say that it was a risk considering my heart condition but, I am overall unharmed. However, he did write me up for two weeks of rest just to be on the safe side.

Natasha: Consider the call in done. Imma also gonna look into that golf course to see if there’s any loose wiring problems and give them hell!! >:(

Ellie: YEAH GIRL GET THEM!!!!

Ellie: And here I thought golf courses couldn’t get any worse.

Ellie: But uh Jason, wasn’t there anything else the doctor … found out about your condition or?

Jason: No. Just pain medication and rest.

Motor: yeah no big deal..no BIIGG deal at all. >:3

Natasha: :/ ????

Jason: Shut it @motor.

Natasha: Uhhhh

Ellie: Don’t worry about it Nat. :’D

The phone screen went dark as Jason pressed the side button on his phone and shoved it deep into his pants pocket. He didn’t need the stress that Motor was giving him for nearly spilling the beans on the whole giant fiasco. It felt like the entire thing was one stupid joke away from giving away the big secret. He laid back in the bus seat and stared down at the small paper bag filled with the prescription antibiotic cream and tylenol that was settled in his lap.

Thinking back on the doctor appointment, Jason wished he could have told his doctor everything that was happening to him. Maybe he could have gotten more than just stuff to treat the surprise scars on his back. But, the troubles that would have come from telling his doctor would have been extremely bad. His doctor could have thought that he was either having a mental breakdown, ran out of the room screaming if Jason were to prove the claim, and may have probably called the government to take him away to be then experimented on for the rest of his life. Yeah, there’s no way he was going to take those chances.

However, Jason was told that his heartbeat was now more noticeable and beating faster than usual. Not enough to be at the regular rate but a definite improvement than before the incident.

“Huh, cure me a little bit and in exchange turn me into a freak of nature… Not really a fair trade is it?” Jason quietly mumbled to himself as he placed a hand on his chest. Looking outside the bus window to check for his stop, his mind began to wander as he witnessed the rain outside fall into the streets of Seattle. Sure, he does believe now that he was right in the middle of this weird phenomenon but it still felt so unreal. A monkey’s paw’s finger must have curled as he always wanted to be a few more inches taller, feel more happiness and have a clean bill of health. At this cost however?

Definitely not worth it.

While listening to the bus’s public radio talk about this newly discovered meteor that was currently in orbit of the solar system, The bus slowed and pulled up to the bus stop where Jason needed to get off. He rose from his seat and stepped off the bus as quickly as he could. He just wanted to get home. Before he could make his walk back to his townhouse, Jason couldn’t help to notice the inky spot on the road that was across the bus stop. His memory started to jog and wondered how that lady with the crushed minivan was doing.

Wait, had he seen that minivan before? Consequently, he could feel a slight pain emerge from his foot and once he put two and two together; He remembered.

During that fateful night, he remembered getting the boot from a ride-share car. Jason couldn’t recall for the life of him why he was removed from the car or how he even was able to summon one in the first place. However, his drunk/electrocuted brain was thinking of Natasha for some reason and with the knowledge Jason gained about what happens when she enters his thoughts…

He could only recall pieces of the night. Losing one of his nice dress shoes, stumbling in the streets, buildings slowly shrinking around him, and the moment his foot accidentally stepped on a hunk of metal that blared loudly as it was crushed beneath his weight.

The pain in his foot stung worse and Jason immediately started speed walking down the street. He needed to get home ASAP before he unexpectedly grew again and caused more damage. If only he could repay that woman for her van and make it up to anyone else who was a victim of his carelessness. Though that would be very expensive, and he would have to admit that he was the giant freak that did it. Perhaps these one-time sins from when he didn’t know better could serve as a lesson to Jason to not let himself get carried away.

That fast paced walking turned into a sprint as he had no faith in his wandering imagination. Thinking back on the bus ride, he realized that could have ended badly as well and Jason mentally scolded himself for putting people in danger. The few people he ran past stared at him and Jason for once didn’t care what they thought. He needed to put himself away at home where he could focus on NOT focusing on those lovingly destructive thoughts.

He stumbled onto the stairs on his front door and shoved a hand into his pocket, fumbling on grabbing his keys. His two feet tapping anxiously on his welcome mat, and Jason using his other hand to search for the keys as well. Wait- where was his prescription bag!? His gaze darted below him and his head snapped to the bottom of the porch stairs. Jason spotted his nearly spilled out shopping bag on the sidewalk and just as fast as he sprinted there, he quickly shuffled his way down the stairs and nabbed his bag with a swift snatch. Muttering a few quiet ‘oh come ons’ before he managed to shove his key into the front door.

The front door swung open and slammed closed. Jason laid on the other side of the front door, trying to catch what little breath he had. It took the man a couple of deep breaths to find his bearings as his shoulders dropped. Though he did snap back to reality when he felt a comforting presence press on his calf. “Meow.” Jason looked down to see that his orange companion, Oliver, was already complaining about waiting for his dinner. The lovable dope had his tail raised and was rubbing his face into Jason’s pant leg, getting fur stuck on the fabric. “Awh is the little pumpkin hungry?~'' Jason cooed as he bent down and picked up Oliver by the sides to hoist the cat to be cradled into one of his arms, “Sorry I’m late, Daddy’s dealing with reality shattering stuff lately.” Jason walked into his cozy living room and dropped the prescription bag off at the coffee table while his orange fur-baby was meowing complaints. As he made his way to the kitchen, Oliver kept staring at Jason with his one eye and began to purr loudly as he lay comfortably in Jason’s scrawny arm.

What a strange little creature.

Oliver didn’t stay in Jason’s arm for too long as he jumped off when he saw his food bowl come into view. A cat has his priorities after all. Going through the cabinets Jason started to tell his thoughts to his cat, just like any cat owner would even if the cat had no idea what the heck their owner was talking about. It wasn’t like Oliver could snitch on him or anything.

“I honestly don’t know what’s happening to me Oliver,” Jason said as he peaked through the cabinets, “I’ve become a ticking time bomb overnight and now I am a threat to society without even meaning to be…” Jason grunted when he didn’t see the cat food in the usual place.

“Wha- oh goodness I thought I just bought you a palette recently..” Jason spoke as he pushed some cans of soup aside and he tried to rack his brain on where in his house the cat food could be. It was about a week ago he went grocery shopping, and consequently that night had also been board game night with his friends from work. He did pick up some extra snacks for that night and Motor, while annoying he can be, actually offered to help Jason with the heavy groceries.

He felt his blood run cold. Jason arched his neck up to the high cabinets in his kitchen. While it probably was a stupid idea for a short man like Jason to rent a home which felt like it was specifically made for tall people, it was a really good deal at the time considering he was living in Seattle. Besides, he had managed to live with it this long and had no problems since he had a step stool on hand. Though he had to admit, Motor putting the heavy cat food stack on a high shelf was seriously infuriating.

Jason sighed and turned to find that step stool buried deep in the pantry. However, his feet stopped half way through the turn as he had a small thought sprout in his mind. What if instead of spending more precious time digging through his pantry to get the step-stool, Jason could just simply put that new side effect to good use. Jason shook his head for a moment, “Oh heavens no-” He mumbled as he took a step towards the pantry, “That’s ridiculous, I wouldn’t want to risk it…” He cleared his throat as he reached his hand over to the pantry door. The hand halted before it could grab the handle and Jason took another glance at the high up cabinet. It had never looked so close yet out of reach…

“I mean,” Jason spoke towards Oliver, “Just maybe a little bit couldn’t hurt… Now I know about what the cause is..” “Meow.” “Yeah, it could end up being safer than throwing my back out! Smart boy, Oliver.” “Meow.” It has been decided, then.

He made his way back to below the high up cabinet and stretched out his arms as if he was going to be entered in a weight lifting competition. A long concentrated deep breath came from him as he closed his eyes. Feeling a bit anxious from this but, if he only thought of her for a moment then it should only be a few inches right? “Alright Oliver, keep your distance.” Jason said as pushed up his glasses and wondered what he should specifically think about. Obviously nothing too intense, probably? He actually wasn’t sure when the point of no return was. His hands came together and made them hold each other. Maybe just the thought of holding her wonderfully soft palms might do the trick--

BANG

CRASH

“HISSSS! ROWWEEERRRR!”

CLANK

“AGGH! BOLLOCKS!!”

[Image Description: Jason grew too tall and ended up slamming his head on the ceiling. This caused him to fall back onto the kitchen island and he got smacked by a pan and is in pain.]

In one brief moment, the kitchen descended into chaos. The height that Jason had desired was passed up very quickly and his head punched itself through the ceiling, causing a huge crack to form. Debris fell and blinded Jason for a moment- causing him to stumble backwards onto the kitchen island. In a different time, it was nice to have a really good cast iron steel set of pots and pans. At the moment however, the back of Jason’s head didn’t appreciate it as he tumbled into them. His back was sprawled across the counter and all he could do was hold the back of his head, seizing in pain.

“Oooowww-” The now 10 foot tall Jason moaned, “How... have I not gotten brain damage?…” He opened his eyes to a horrifying sight, not at his ceiling being caved in nor his expensive cooking equipment being scattered everywhere; but the sight of his poor fluffed up baby boy huddling in the corner and hiding his scared face behind his puffed up tail.

“Oh… oh no pumpkin I’m so sorry...” Jason cooed, feeling like an absolutely disgusting human being, “I-I didn’t mean to scare you, It’s still me Oliver…” Jason managed to flop himself over so he could lay on this stomach comfortably. He reached out a large hand to Oliver, who at first backed up from the offered hand. The man’s heart dropped from seeing this and expected Oliver to sprint towards the bedroom to hide from the big scary monster that invaded his home.

Instead, Oliver slowly raised his head from his tail and stared at the hand with his good eye. His nose reached over to Jason’s huge fingers and gave them a couple of small sniffs. From this new perspective Jason gained, Oliver could have been mistaken as a kitten on how small he looked. This almost made Jason’s heart soar with glee as he’d never got the chance to meet Oliver when he was a baby cat, but what really brought him glee was when Oliver rubbed his fuzzy head into Jason’s palm and let himself be wrapped by his owner’s large fingers for scratches. Tears of happiness covered Jason’s knocked askew glasses.

Forgiveness was granted.

----

After giving Oliver double the serving that he usually had for dinner, Jason crawled through his own home to get to the bathroom. The hallways of the townhouse had become more like service tunnels as he had to duck throughout the home. While he was careful to not smack his head on any light fixtures, his feet were having a hard time adjusting to the new walkway. The pain in the back of his skull was still stinging slightly from the incident so he used his free hand to massage it while the other large hand traced the walls and grabbed onto the door frame that entered the bathroom.

“Ugh, the new pain meds are comin’ in handy today..” Jason mumbled before he looked up at the mirror, “AH!!-- Oh… oh.”

He yelped for a brief moment before realizing that the bathroom mirror had only reflected himself. However, he almost didn’t realize it was him due to the fact he was now completely covering the doorway and he was crouching to be able to get inside the bathroom.

Watching his reflection, Jason's emotions morphed from surprise to a tinge of sadness. It dawned on him why his coworkers had initially been apprehensive around him. With a resigned sigh, he maneuvered into the bathroom, barely leaving any space to spare. He chuckled at the thought that he had once considered this compact bathroom relatively spacious for townhouse living. Without further ado, he removed his glasses to splash water on his face.

“...Wha- Wait what!? Are you kidding me!? Noooo,” Jason spoke out of disbelief as his glasses suddenly shrunk right as they left his face, “How the hell?...”

Try as he might, he couldn’t put them back on his face as they just simply wouldn’t fit. Jason couldn’t exactly get himself to fit the glasses either as the pain in the back of his head made it near impossible to concentrate.

“Oh, that’s just great…” Jason said sarcastically as he placed his glasses on the bathroom counter, “That’s how it’s going to be then.” He rubbed the arch of his nose before gingerly turning the faucet on. Splashing cool water on his face did make him feel a little bit more grounded despite the weirdness. He patted his face dry with a teal bath towel before eyeing his sweater vest and polo.

“I guess I’m not expecting visitors or going out like this…” He mumbled to himself as he grabbed the bottom of his polo and started to pull it over his head, “But I’ll leave the trousers on for now- Ugh!” Jason grunted as he was having a bit of trouble trying to get his upper wear over his shoulders. His elbows had hit the ceiling and the lack of space made it hard to yank the polo combo off. Undeterred, Jason persisted, shifting and shimmying until he successfully removed the polo shirt.

Jason held onto the clothing and was rather stunned as he saw that it too, had shrunk back down to his normal clothing size. This brought on more questions from Jason; Why did his clothing shrink back to normal when he took them off? Does anything in his pockets change size too? How is his clothing growing along with him and not getting ripped to shreds?

Jason shivered, perhaps he should just be grateful that he gets to remain fully clothed as the alternative would be a whole new set of problems to deal with.

He tossed his clothes into the hamper to put an end to those thoughts and looked back at the mirror. His large hands nearly eclipsed the bathroom counter as he gingerly placed his palms on it. His eyes traced the scrawny ribs and various fresh bruises that marked the kitchen incident. An uncanny feeling was raised from within as it felt like a crime against nature itself for a body type like his to be able to fill an entire room.

Spotting the end of the lighting scar on his shoulder, Jason reached out his fingers to touch it and turned a little bit to get a better look at the wound. The appearance of this scar shocked him as he hadn't felt pain from it till days after the incident. His muscles tensed up from touching the scarring and he pulled away to just stare at it. While getting a Lichtenberg figure from a lightning strike wasn’t uncommon, what was strange about this scar was that the entry point looked shaped like a cartoon heart. Probably a silly coincidence or a mocking branding.

Coming to terms with his condition felt impossible, it wasn’t like anyone else in the whole world that could relate to him. He could no longer stare at the freak in the mirror and hung his head low, thoughts wondering if this meant he could never truly find happiness in a relationship. While he didn’t want to be in a relationship, now it was as if he no longer had any say in the matter. Tightness built up in his chest; what did this all even mean and why him? Perhaps he was being selfish for falling hard for someone who could be fired and have her life ruined if he’d dared to act on his feelings.

“Meow.”

“Oliver? Oh bloody hell I left the door open didn’t I?”

“Meow!”

His eyes squinted to try to make out the fluffy orange blob that passed under his legs and was rubbing his ankle dramatically. The flick of Oliver’s tail made Jason’s frown curl into an appreciative grin. Oliver’s paw twitched a little bit from the unexpected puddle on the floor, Jason looked back up in the mirror and realized his face was completely wet with tears.

“I-I’m sorry for crying like a big baby Oliver, That’s very unbecoming of me…”

“Meowwwwww.”

Jason reached down gingerly to hoist the fluffy noise box off of the tile and into his arms. Oliver squirmed a little as Jason tried to find a comfortable position for his fuzzy son due to his arms being much longer. It only took a few seconds to adjust and Oliver was once again cradled like a newborn comfortably.

“Oh my gosh Pumpkin you’re so tiny~”

Jason sniffled as he used one finger to lightly pet Oliver’s fluffy tummy as he turned away from the mirror. Truthfully, It was awkward trying to shuffle out of the bathroom with a bundle that demanded attention. The kitty’s insistence was a little bit annoying, but the annoyance was overpowered by how Oliver wields his cuteness to his advantage.

While it took a minute to navigate his home, he managed to get to his living room. Thankfully the ceiling was raised considerably, so he didn’t need to stress his back anymore. Getting to his usually comfy leather couch, Jason ever so carefully lowered himself down. The squeals from the wooden legs made him flinch and held onto Oliver for support. When he managed to sit completely down onto the couch, he sighed in relief that it didn't give way. Looking around his living room, he started to notice the fragile photographs that adorned the walls, the expensive television across from him, and plenty of breakable items that are precious to him. More things he could quite easily destroy without meaning to.

He’d let go of Oliver and the orange fluff cloud pranced onto the low coffee table, sitting down regally with his tail covering his front paws. “Well,” Jason said, leaning down to his right and attempting to make himself comfortable on his ‘new’ loveseat sized couch, “I think it’s about time to reorganize the place, just to be on the safe side.”

The couch creaked in protest, as Jason laid his back to toe cushion and his neck cradled haphazardly on the arm rest. His long legs found it uncomfortable to curl up on the couch, so they stretched out over the opposite armrest, and the soles of his feet rested on the floor. Finally, he had managed to find some comfort in this new body of his.

He took a deep breath and- SNAP

Oliver leaped off the coffee table in response to the loud noise, caused by the couch's plywood giving way under the weight it was never meant to bear. Although it startled Jason for a moment, his body sank back onto the broken couch with a disappointed sigh. What else was new?

------

A Ravine [ Dream II ]

She was farther than ever before;

Across the Ravine.

Upon looking down,

He couldn’t comprehend the unseen.

Before he could plead,

His chest burned.

No fear, no regrets

He took the leap.

The blue moon loomed

Claws dragged his ankles down,

Before he could cross;

Abyss cemented his doom.

Down he fell into the ravine;

Knowing he will never be seen.

Darkness consumed all,Lost forever within the Ravine.

------

It wasn’t a recent development for Ellie’s hatred of college level essays about the unclean parts about mental health. Though she didn’t like writing essays in general, she really had to double her effort from having to research grotesque subject matter. While it was necessary for her future career, damn if it wasn’t a mood killer. The blank document’s cursor flickers in mockery at Ellie as he sat on top of her bed sheets. Curled up with a nice warm cup of matcha on the side and held a firm grip on the sticker covered laptop on her lap. Sadly, she couldn’t use her love birds as an excuse to procrastinate as they were in the middle of their mid day cuddle nap. Ellie rubbed her nose in frustration, her mind pulling out blanks for an introduction for a tricky subject such as this.

After another embarrassing date going south, she wasn’t in the mood to chat up potential bachelorettes either. This left her with just herself, and the doomed assignment.

Usually when she found herself stuck on inspiration for stuff like this, she’d head over to her best friend that was conveniently next door for guidance since he’d always had a knack for essay writing. Unfortunately, he wasn’t available and hasn’t been for a week. Ellie missed the days where they’d open their bedroom windows to chat nonchalantly about their weekend or gossip about their coworkers. It was one of the reasons why they rented these townhouses as they could stay in touch and get those sweet discounts on the places. However, every time Ellie peaked through her bedroom window to check to see if Jason was there, his curtains had remained closed. Ellie did think about heading over there herself to check if he was okay, though her deep rooted fear held her from going. It wasn’t like she was scared of Jason necessarily. What monster would be afraid of their best friend suffering from an unknown sickness? On the other hand, her sleep had been tormented with imagery of being unknowingly squashed under a heel and feeling like a helpless bug in an uncaring universe.

This part of herself she knew, long before this mess. A deep sinking feeling of panic brewed when she passed by unthinkably tall buildings and passed on Motor’s movie night ideas. If she could diagnose herself, she'd guess it was a classic case of megalophobia. That fear was usually unfounded and didn’t affect her life day to day usually so she wasn’t that upset about it. Until now. While she did manage to push through it during their experiments in the forest for her friend’s sake, she did have to binge through videos of kitten fostering videos to cope through the tears.

Ellie noticed that she was gripping the sides of her laptop and biting her tongue as her stress boiled over. Her laptop was pushed onto her bed and she rose from her sheets with a determination filled with obligation. She rushed to her drawers and got dressed into her usual autumn weekend outfit.

Her heart couldn’t take the communication break down anymore. Ellie needed to make sure Jason was alright and the thought of abandoning her friend when he needed her most made her feel like a disgusting coward.

Ellie snatched her keys and rushed by her chirping lovebirds as she made her way to the front door. Once she shuffled down the front steps, her gaze turned to Jason’s front door. At first she couldn’t find the strength to move her feet, the mere thought of what could be happening in there made her blood run cold. Though it was too late to bail now.

With one last look at her front door, Ellie sighed and her heavy feet walked up to the front door of Jason’s home and she knocked her fist on the door. Ellie’s shoulders jumped when she heard a dramatic thud coming from within the home. Her concern only grew from there as the noise was followed with a few scraping noises and then silence.

“Uh, Hey man are y-” Ellie said before the front door suddenly swung open, revealing a normal sized, but uncommonly disheveled Jason with a deceitfully wide grin.

[Image Description: A very concerned Ellie staring at Jason, who has opened his front door and is leaning on the door frame with a wide guilty grin.]

“Heeeeey Ellie,” Jason said, with fake cheerfulness, “It’s so nice to see you! Man alive, how long has it been?” “Uh, about a week…” Ellie said, trying to peek her head behind Jason, “Wanted to check in on… things.”

Jason shoved his head in the way of Ellie’s eye line while he kept that telling grin on his face. “OH! Things have been just swell! ” Jason paltered.

And as if the universe itself took offense, a shelf crashed to the floor.

Ellie peered further over Jason’s shoulder and decided to push him aside despite Jason’s protest. To no one’s surprise; everything wasn’t swell in Jason’s abode. Bits of the ceiling fluttered onto the carpet and the cardboard boxes that had been hastily taped up. Once Ellie looked up, she could see multiple sized dents in the ceiling with a few expensive looking holes.

“Jason…” Elllie gasped, turning to look at Jason who at this point was hiding his face with his fingers. “I know…” Jason groaned, “the landlord is going to bloody kill me.”

Ellie gestured her hands towards the disaster in his house, “You did all of this in a week!?” Her voice raised, more so out of concern than disbelief. Jason kept his head low and moved past her into his ruined living room in shame as he laid a hand on one of the boxes. “Getting used to this disease has been harder than I anticipated…” Jason confessed, “I’ve been putting everything breakable away and haven’t left the house for days.” At this point he had completely dropped the act, his face darkened in shame.

“Oh gods…” Ellie said as she reached a hand out to Jason’s shoulder to comfort him. Though right before she could, she heard a familiar yowl come from the couch. Her attention was shattered and she cooed at Oliver, who was trying to take a needed nap and was rudely woken up by the commotion. Ellie bee-lined towards the couch and scooped up the orange fluff ball into her arms.

“Right, that’s why you came over,” Jason said with snark as he approached the two.

“Nooo, I did come over to see how you were doing,” Ellie said as she bounced Oliver like a newborn, “But I mean, come on look at him!” She hoisted Oliver up in her arms and the look in his eye showed that there was truly a void of nothing behind it.

Jason couldn’t wallow forever and acquiesced with a chuckle. He petted the top of Oliver’s head and kept his eyes on his little furry friend as he spoke to Ellie. “He somehow still loves me after all of this mess, ” Jason said, “Though I’m not sure how long I can control myself to keep him safe.”

An awkward silence filled the room after that. Ellie sighed as she looked at her dissonant friend and she gave herself a moment to ponder the situation. She took note of the crater’s in the ceiling and the clearly evident eye bags below Jason’s eyes. “How much sleep are you getting?” Ellie asked as she set Oliver free. The cat pranced out of Ellie’s arm and onto the back of the broken couch. Jason sighed as he put a hand on his forehead in foggy thought. “None,” Jason complained, “I’ve been having a lot of dreadful nightmares and I’m afraid I’ll wake up to find myself homeless.”

Ellie anxiously tapped the broken remains of his couch and took a deep breath. She gave a comforting gaze to Jason despite her own comfort. “Why don’t you come over to my place?” Ellie suggested, “We can try to do research on this thing, just like what we used to do in college.” She put a firm hand on Jason’s shoulder as he recoiled in shock. Before his stuttering could refuse, his head shook vehemently and he tried to pull away. “Wh-what!?” Jason exclaimed, “N-no! No, that's a terrible idea! Do you want me to get you in trouble with the landlord too!?” Ellie thought to argue that. “Look around, You’ve been isolated for way too long and it’s gonna drive you nuts!” Ellie said as she gestured her hand to the disastrous state of Jason’s living room, “Besides, I know that you’re gonna be extra careful if the house isn’t yours, you’re too considerate.” Jason folded his arms. It was very rare that he was unsure of his friend’s judgment, though at the moment, his doubts were plenty. “It’s dangerous,” Jason said, “I’m not keeping myself locked in my house for no reason Ellie.” He pushed Ellie’s hand away grimly and stared at the floor longingly.

Well, Ellie didn’t care for that one bit. She took it upon herself to scoop up Oliver, who chipped in surprise, from the couch and marched towards the door. “In that case, I’m sure Oliver would love to study with me to find out how to cure your stubborn butt.” Ellie said while she headed straight towards the front door with a sly grin on her face. “Wait- WAIT ELLIE,” Jason called after her and clumsily followed her trail like a helpless puppy, “You can’t just take my cat! Hey- ELLIE! HOLD JUST A SECOND-!!”

------

If one were forced to think of one word to describe Ellie’s living room, it could very well be ‘serene’. The place definitely looked lived in, but it was a very clean mess of psychology textbooks on the handed-down oak coffee table, that had been gifted to her by her mothers. Pots were placed around the room that cradled many different types of plant life, and in one corner, Ellie's cassette collection laid haphazardly near her vintage boombox. Despite the apparent disorganization, she never had trouble locating any mix-tape in that pile. Music selection was not a frequent problem, though, as her two very vocal love birds' cage occupied a central position in the living room.

Jason had been sitting quite uncomfortably on her bequeathed bargain couch, though not due to the lack of support from the couch, but because he was essentially held hostage there. His traitorous kitty decided he wanted to spend time with auntie Ellie after being catnapped. He crossed his arms pouting, trying to ignore the smug look she had on her face as she entered the kitchen. “Whatcha want to drink?” Ellie asked.

“Earl grey,” Jason said, “Also you’re evil.” “I know,” Ellie playfully replied as she disappeared through the doorway.

As much as he wanted to right then, Jason couldn’t seethe forever and eventually released the breath he was holding. He knew she was just trying to help but he was more scared than angry at her insistence. His gaze checked around the room for anything potentially breakable and expensive. By the end of the first week of being a circus freak, he’d picked up a new awareness of how fragile things can be and how much of a hassle it would be to replace them. Jason stood up from the couch, not wanting to dwell on how much money he was already losing, and made his way over to the pair of love birds.

“Ah! Hello Mango and Papaya,” Jason greeted them as he leaned over to the cage, “Oliver is in the guest room right now so you two can stretch your wings, yeah?” Mango squealed in agreement as the door to the cage was opened and she hopped excitedly onto Jason’s hand. Papaya decided to stay cautious and only peaked her head out to check on Mango’s well-being. Mango had always been the more approachable one out of the couple. Jason’s thumb scratched the love bird’s neck and ruffled her head feathers. She leaned her head towards his hand in merriment, as her closed eyes smiled in bliss. For a minute, Jason completely forgot that he was forced to be there against his will. He showered the bird in affection until their wholesome interaction was cut short.

Despite the desperate neck stretches and opening her beak to show authority, Jason didn’t realize that Paypapa wasn’t going to let her soulmate be taken by some human tart. She thought to rectify this slight and confronted Jason with a hard bite on the fingertip. “Owch! Okay fine I’ll put her down, god-” Jason stammered as he let both birds onto the top of their cage. He rubbed the small bite mark on his finger as he saw his aggressor frantically groom Mango. Despite the pain of being chomped on, Jason chuckled after the fact. “My apologies,” Jason said, “I almost forgot you’re a bonded pair.” While he was not a bird expert, it was obvious that Papaya was just trying to protect her sweet girlfriend. How romantic.

Only for a moment Jason got lost in thought, unaware of his surroundings as his mind was swooned by the very idea of soulmates and his longing desire to have one for himself. To be honest, he did feel a tad jealous these birds have a better love life than he ever will. The train of thought crashed as he heard a loud gasp, tea being spilled and the feeling of the ceiling pushing down on his head.

“Oh gods, J-JASON!” Ellie stuttered, trying to regain her composure from nearly suffering from a heart attack by the sight of a giant suddenly appearing in her house. Panic flooded onto Jason’s face as he realized he wasn’t as careful as he thought he was. “I-I’m sorry!” Jason begged as he tried to crouch down, trying to make him seem smaller in vain, “I’ll try not to break anything on the way out.” Before he could start crawling towards the front door in a fit of panic, Ellie rushed to set the un-spilled mug of earl gray onto her coffee table and approached him. “Wait!” Ellie said, with her phobia and compassion at war with each other, “You don’t have to go! It’s fine, I swear!”

Jason halted and looked at her in disbelief. While he wasn’t the best at reading people like Ellie was, even he could tell that Ellie was terrified of him and was just trying to be polite. “I know you’re scared of me,” Jason said bluntly, “My feelings aren’t hurt, I’ll just take my leave.”

A harsh tug on the bottom of his t-shirt stopped him from turning around. He looked over to see that Ellie is gripping the fabric as if she was able to actually keep the man the size of a Honda from escaping. Though that sad desperate look in her eyes may as well have bolted him to the floor.

"No! I might be scared, but I'm even more terrified for your well-being!" Ellie argued, “No matter what horrifying thing you turn into; Giant, cockroach, hell, a giant cockroach! I’m still not going to abandon you!” Jason sighed heavily and before he could even begin to formulate an argument, Ellie cuffed her full hands together. “Please let me help you,” she pleaded, “you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Jason felt this stomach tie up in knots. He’d already felt guilty for being a terrible house guest, but he couldn’t just say no to her insistence. Jason stared at the floor in shame as he admitted defeat. “Fine,” Jason said, “I’ll stay.”

Ellie smiled, releasing her shaking hands and turned to pick up the spilled tea mug off of the floor. “We’ll figure it out,” Ellie said, “Besides, what kind of a cat dad leaves their precious baby behind?~” Jason groaned, “Don’t push it.”

----

This impromptu study session really did bring back those college freshman memories when Ellie and Jason had to cram for exams. However, the tension wasn’t being built by a demanding deadline. Ellie felt the stress when she peaked over her laptop and saw the gargantuan man sitting next to her couch trying to gently sip the tiny mug in his massive hands. His fingers fidgeted around the mug's handle uncomfortably. He also kept hesitantly pulling the cup towards his lips but, whenever it got near his mouth, he pulled away reluctantly. Watching this constant backpedaling was starting to be unbearable to watch. “Dude, I can make you tea in a mixing bowl,” Ellie commented, glancing over to see Jason’s grimacing face being offended by the mere suggestion.

“What? No,” Jason said as he tried to ‘properly’ hold his mug, “I don’t need to feel anymore out of place than I already am.” He uncomfortably shifted as he glanced down at his remarkably large hands that nearly enveloped the little mug. Ellie rolled her eyes, sharing that same gaze to his mug. “Getting accommodated doesn’t make you weird,” Ellie said, taking a sip herself before turning her attention back to her internet browser, which had several open Wikipedia tabs. They’d been looking at a variety of human body size disorders that could fit the bill. None of them helped in the slightest, since it seemed like Jason’s condition was anything but normal for a human. Ellie started to mass-close all of those useless tabs as Jason sighed in defeat and sat the mug onto the coffee table gingerly.

“I don’t even know why we’re bothering trying to search this… thing on the internet,” Jason said, folding his arms, “It’s not like some other poor sod could be going through the same deal, and if we do find something, it’d be some weirdo’s fantasy writing.”

Ellie thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Myths! We can look at legends around the globe for answers,” Ellie said excitedly as she started to type search terms in the browser bar. “Why myths?,” Jason asked, “Shouldn’t we be looking for, you know, factual evidence?” “There’s a nugget of truth in a lot of cultural tales,” Ellie explained as she pulled up more web pages filled with different stories concerning giants, “Maybe one of them is actually true.” “You’re sounding an awful lot like Motor,” Jason said as he pushed himself a tad closer to Ellie and arched his neck so he could get a look at the kind of ridiculous stuff she was searching for. The listings had notable large figures such as the treacherous Gogmagog to the vastness of the Daidarabotchi, though many of these listings seemed to pull up gods or malevolent creatures. Jason was sure he was definitely not either of those things.

Probably.

While Ellie may have been on the right track, Jason couldn’t see how any of these beings and monsters had any relation to him. Though it was getting hard to read her laptop screen as she kept tabbing through websites at top speed. While this made Ellie great at procrastinating and getting away with it in her college classes, Jason wanted to research too.

A brief flicker of recognition flashed registered in Jason’s brain as he spotted golden fur for a split second through Ellie’s browsing. Quickly Jason leaned over her and without thinking, slammed his hand next to hers. “Hold on! Can you… Ellie?” Jason attempted to ask before he realized that Ellie’s body froze suddenly. The only thing that was moving was her shivering hand. It felt like her entire soul left her chest and seeing a huge hand that could have weighed more than a brick nearly missed hitting her frail fingers. Ellie’s neck craned slowly tilted her head upwards hesitantly to be met with Jason’s wide chest. Ellie was rendered speechless and Jason eventually picked up on that. He lurked away from her, sputtering apologizes as he proceeded to sit on his hands. “I’m so sorry I-I didn’t think about- I’ll keep myself right here,” Jason nervously trembled as he watched Ellie let go of a sigh of relief she herself didn’t realize she was holding.

“Warn me next time will ya? Geeze,” Ellie said as she tried to regain her composure and sense of safety, “could’ve lost my writing hand.” Compulsively, Ellie rubbed her wrist as she kept her eyes off of Jason for the time being. For now, she pushed down that icky feeling of distress and flicked through some of the back pages silently to see what Jason nearly broke her hand for.

“...It’s uh- … the golden dog I think,” Jason muttered with his gaze glued to the floor, “It looked familiar.” After a quiet moment that felt like ages, Ellie finally spoke up again after taking a swig of her tea.

“The Golden Beast,” Ellie began to read out loud, “A phenomenon seen around the world of a large golden canine that is very elusive, but it is said to be a symbol of great change and good harvest.”

Jason waited for a moment to listen intently to Ellie’s lecture, but nothing else came. “... and?” Jason asked, though he got his answer when Ellie shrugged with a disappointed look. “That’s it, not much information written down here,” Ellie responded as she went ahead to search for the term elsewhere on the internet. Both of them would be lying if they said they weren’t disappointed, especially Jason.

“I swear I’ve seen something that looked similar but,” He commented as he easily finished off his tea with a single sip, “I just can’t seem to recall anything.” He sat the mug down and watched Ellie peruse through a few websites, but in the end didn’t seem to find much else about the mysterious beast.

“Another brick wall… bummer,” Ellie said as she stretched her arms outward, making sure her wrists weren’t getting sore. Her bones cracked as she rolled her shoulder, she had attempted to loosen up and let go of the pent up anxiety she had plenty of. In her peripheral vision she could see Jason reaching his head to the side to look hopelessly at Ellie’s laptop without having to get too close to her.

“There really is nothing that can help me is there?” Jason said as he slumped, “Figures.” The two of them sat in silence for a while, unsure of what they could possibly do next or even find a trail to follow for the answers to their building questions. Ellie even half-mindly scrolled through news sites for anything unusual happenings. Though other than a couple of strange meteoroids being found around the globe, it was all mostly just news of politicians lying, groan worthy e-celebrity drama and a heartwarming story of a local pit bull named Twinkles saving a bus full of deaf school children from falling into the Vancouver River.

Ellie took a deep breath, “Jason I’m sorry I can’t…” Before Ellie could properly apologize to him, she noticed that Jason had a few visitors perched on the top of his head that were tugging tufts of his hair. Though he didn’t seem to notice it himself until he saw the despair disappear from Ellie’s face and she started to chuckle. She couldn’t keep a straight face for even a second.

[Image Description: Mango and Papaya are playing in Jason’s hair and Ellie is just sitting there. LAUGHING. ]

“Hey, what are you two doing!?” Jason exclaimed, trying to gently shoo away the uninvited guests. The birds of course, did not even acknowledge Jason’s attempts to evict them. Papaya just tugged at tufts of his hair to see if she could make a nest and Mango naively rolled around in the strange grass they discovered. If he had just been a little more stern, he could have negotiated with Mango and Papaya to retreat. However, Jason’s hesitant hands and soft voice made it clear that he wasn’t going to risk being slightly rough with Ellie’s pets.

“Uh- a little help please?” Jason asked as he turned his awkward gaze back to Ellie. She stood up from the couch, and from there, she had to hold on a second to take in how large her friend had become. Her mind could still barely comprehend a giant human being real and be sitting in her house. However, that pleading look in his eyes that paired with his helplessness from the invasion of her birds made one thing very clear: Despite her skin crawling, he was still a harmless dork. “They probably think you’re a tree,” Ellie giggled, feeling confident enough to wave him down closer to her. The giant hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to loom over her like a beastly ogre and give her heart’s well being a run for its money. That thought ended quickly though as Papaya started to nip at the brim of Jason’s glasses. “Oh good grief,” Jason mumbled, rolling his eyes and leaned down towards Ellie’s direction. His shadow engulfed Ellie as he eclipsed the ceiling light to draw closer. The heart in her chest might have exploded in fear when he bowed his head at her. Though upon seeing the little trouble maker’s untroubled play in his hair, Ellie’s shaking ceased. Perhaps, there wasn’t anything for her to worry about after all. Ellie reached her hands out to coerce her babies onto her shoulder and pushed aside tufts of hair to get to them. Though she froze when she felt a huge sigh brush against her legs. “I don’t know what to do,” Jason groaned, “no one in the world is going to know how to help me, never mind fix me.” His fingers halfheartedly fiddled with his socks, not really giving Ellie’s fiddling with his hair much mind. Ellie frowned, placing her birds onto her shoulder and gave the crown of Jason’s head a few pats. “Thanks,” Jason said. “No problem…” Ellie responded, though she did pause for a moment to contemplate a suggestion that Jason probably wasn’t going to like very much. “You know, ” Ellie continued, “there is someone who knows a lot about giants and he already knows about this curse.” “No way,” Jason objected, raising his head up to look Ellie in the face. She stepped back in a panic, trying to not be in the path of his drastic head swing. “Wait- hear me out,” Ellie pleaded, “Motor might be a bit… eccentric, but he might be our only available expert on how to handle yourself when you’re like- big.”

“He’s not a professional Ellie, he's a nerd,” Jason said, folding his arms indignant, “all he’d be able to teach me would be how to level a hospital.” Jason kept coming up with complaints while he watched her carry her birds back to their cage. Though most of those unwarranted complaints went through one ear and out the other. “And he’s just not all that bright honestly, how could I trust that ido… ” Jason’s rant was cut short by the daggers Ellie was staring at him, “My bad.” He learned to shut his mouth and sat there with gripped hands on his knees. “I know you two aren’t always on the best of terms,” Ellie said, “but he wants to help you and might be your only option for insight.”

The very idea of Jason having to grovel to Motor for help was already humiliating enough, but reaching out to him about this life threatening disease? Jason would almost rather stay indoors for the rest of his life. Realistically however, it would be only a matter of time before he hurts someone or destroys his house. Unfortunately it would seem like getting help from Motor was going to be his only option even if it was going to be an agonizing experience.

“Augh, Alright then if I don’t have a choice,” Jason said with a defeated sigh, “can’t help to feel that this is going to be a big mistake.”

Ellie closed the bird cage behind her, “Come on man,” she said as she walked back to Jason with a smile on her face, “What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

“Something terrible I reckon,” Jason responded, his fingers gripping his knees with another long sigh, “Also uh, can you help me shrink back to normal please?”

-----

Nothing happens in Stanley, Idaho. Well, that’s how one particular citizen would like to keep it.

This unassuming older woman stepped out of her lifted jeep with little effort and made her way inside the tea shop. A subtle exchange of knowing nods were exchanged between her and the front store worker as she walked past the meticulously put together display of various tea leaves. Upon reaching the elevator in the back of the shop, she proceeded to press the following buttons: Lobby, 1, 9, 8, 7, and pound. The elevator closed, and took her below the ground floor, which shouldn’t be possible for a two-story building.

As the elevator took its sweet time, she glanced down at her Hamilton military watch and gripped onto her steaming hot americano in her other hand. Seeing the watch read ‘5:00am’ made her groan with distaste. It was way too early for her to be up at her age. Duty calls, however, and she begrudgingly accepted.

After waiting for what felt like an eternity for the elevator to stop on the correct floor, she stepped out and was greeted by a long metal corridor that was barricaded with several security doors. Unperturbed, the woman walked up to each door, the same song and dance she always put up with to get to her damn office. Fingers to the hand scanners, eyes to the headache inducing retina scanners, and the most embarrassing of all, sticking her tongue out to a DNA analysis to let her through the final door. She had wondered if the engineers thought that last trial was some kind of bad joke.

Nevertheless, She slogged into the massive intelligence operation room that was filled with the panicked voices of government workers. They have all been responding to all sorts of calls for assistance to deal with found anomalies and confused 911 operators. However, the older woman was used to this chaos, and promptly walked past all of the pesky underlings trying to ask her questions. Even if she wanted to answer their queries, she had no idea what was going on or what she was called in for during her vacation.

Once she got to her office, she took off her windbreaker coat and wearily donned her standard issue FAIRA director’s coat. Before she headed to her desk, her hand shuffled through her windbreaker coat’s pocket and pulled out an opened box of cigarettes. Today was going to be difficult, why else would her superiors spring a surprise call-in on her? It didn’t take long for her to sit down at her desk and log her passwords into the computer with the help of her countless post it notes. The video call did not take its time either, ringing the moment her desktop loaded. She rolled her eyes and answered.

“Witch reporting in, receiving you loud and clear Eagle,” the director spoke before she heard the ear-grating voice come from the other end.

“EEEY BLAIR! How’s it goin’ grandma?”

“Sir, we have discussed this, we need to use our code names, also do not refer to me as grandma ever again.”

“OOOOH YEEEAAAH… I forgot.”

“Of course, sir. Anyway, was there any godforsaken reason why I was pulled from my vacation?”

“Calm down grandma! This is your crop and you gotta be the cream of it, ya hear?”

“Just get to the point.” “Aye soooo, we got a situation brewin’ up in the lil’ Washington, oooh yeah. You gotta take care of this ASAP. Ya see, they found these shiny rocks fallin’ out of the sky and it looks like your ring, if you catch my drift.”

“Right, so why isn’t NASA leading this operation?” “HMmmmmm uh, remember those budget cuts?” “I see.” “And while I love my guys in camo, they ain’t got the brain cells like your eggheads do, ooohh nooo.” “Fine, I’ll dispatch my team in the pacific northwest immediately-” “Oh no sister! You’re goin’ to pack your bags too!” “What!? Why?” “Cuz I noticed yer always sitting on your ass in that chair for years and I think you’re forgettin’ what it’s like to be one of your men, grandma.”

“My way of running things does not hold any relevance to the situation and for the last time; stop calling me grandma. I have a codename, Eagle, use it. ”

“It does more than you think chica, with somethin’ this big, I don’t think you should skimp on it. Plus, it’s the big Eagle’s orders so ya got no choice ya hear me?” She groaned, “…Understood sir.”

#heart thump #g/t #gt community #giant tiny #gt writing #giant/tiny #gt #writing #giant #jason #Ellie #Thank you guys <3

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saltyowlet · 7 months

Text

BG3FICFEB DAY 3: First Encounter with their Love Interest

Summary: The carrot is a metaphor, I swear

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Durge (named)

Word count: 2251

Ao3 Link: [x]

“You know, Astarion’s an odd fellow.” Olive couldn’t help but let out a loud snort.

“Oh really, what gave you that idea?”

The evening sun bathed a bare haze of sunlight upon the camp. Gale took a taste of the simmering stew with a wooden ladle, a moment to ponder, and added another dash of herbs. Few of their companions, Astarion, Wyll, and Laezel, decided to go into the forest to grab any prey that lurked beneath the trees. Gale argued that they didn’t need any meat in tonight’s impressively hearty meal but Laezel and Wyll did not take a no for an answer and went off, Astarion tagging along in hopes of finding his own prey.

Olive volunteered her services but got denied thanks to the wound Olive tried so hard to hide, a gift from yesterday’s encounter with goblin explosives from the recon. Astarion barely had a chance to warn the group of the trap when Olive ran in and triggered the explosives. After a few rounds of fighting the alerted goblins, they all managed to get away significantly unscathed, well all except Olive. The trap did most of the damage, the force throwing her far off to the other side of the chasm, and the sharp rocks left a gnarly gash in her right side. Injures like these were a dime a dozen for the most part, so Olive simply added some ointment and wrapped herself with bandages.

If it wasn’t for Astarion’s habit of constantly barging in on her tent, Olive would have been hunting with the others, but the pale elf just had to catch her right as she finished wrapping new bandages on her ribs. The indignant screech Olive let out made things worse as the whole camp ran to her tent. It took Karlach and Lae’zel to drag a kicking and screaming Olive down before Shadowheart could have a chance to cast a healing spell on Olive. The whole fiasco was enough to bench their leader from the hunting team. Now, Olive was stuck cutting vegetables. Great

Gale let out a soft chuckle. “Not my most astute observations, but I digress. Our rogue’s love for chaos seems to have brought you quite a bit of trouble. I’m curious as to how you came about him. Everyone else knows how we all met and intercepted each other at the Grove but your and Astarion’s own tale remains a mystery,” Gale said while wagging the wooden ladle towards Olive playfully.

“By all means, if you do not want to share it, I understand, but I can’t help but question the motive. I have no ill will, but mayhaps Astarion’s own morality tends to clash with yours and the overall collective camp’s, hm?”

Olive squinted at the carrots she had been chopping. She didn’t like how uneven her cuts were compared to Gale’s precise pieces. Handling a dagger to slice up goblins, no problem, but cutting vegetables? Olive let out a sigh, abandoning the half carrot to the side.

“Well, I initially left him at the beach where I found him, but I decided to drag him with me. Still not sure if I would make the same decision if I had the chance to do it all over again,” she joked as she reached out for the onions, praying to herself that her eyes would not burn this time. Olive made quick work, tossing the pieces to Gale who threw the prepped vegetables into the simmering cauldron. He eyed the unfinished carrot but said nothing.

“Well, I’m astonished. I thought you did not hesitate to help him the way you helped the others. What happened?” Gale asked genuinely curious. Olive paused for a moment, stabbing the knife onto the cutting board as she casually leaned on it with her hand. She gave Gale a matter of fact look.

“He pulled a knife onto my neck.” Gale had just taken another taste of the stew when Olive blatantly confessed, earning a sputter.

“He what ?”

“Gale, you're dripping soup on your shirt.”

Olive tossed a clean rag at the wizard’s face with a grin. Gale quickly wiped the splatter on his shirt and turned back to Olive with a look of disbelief. Olive gave him a shrug.

“Your lack of self preservation is most alarming, I have to say. If he put a knife on you, just how on earth did you come to the conclusion of keeping him company?” Olive let out a laugh.

“Because I headbutted him.” Gale quirked an eyebrow. Olive pulled the knife from the board and started tossing it in the air and catching the blade between her tiefling claws.

“Astarion had me pinned on the ground. I was still tired from, you know, falling to my death. I didn't have much energy so all I could think was slamming my head on his. Worked,” Olive said with a cheeky smirk.

“Our rogue’s cocky streak was well present then, and as you know whenever that cockiness gets to an all time high,-” Olive tossed the knife a bit higher, letting it twirl in the air a few moments before her hand shot out to grab the handle into a fist. As easy as breathing. “-Astarion deserves to be pushed down a few pegs.”

Gale’s eyes had been following the knife before a realization dawned on him. “Wait, you said you left him initially? Why the change of heart?”

Olive looked up at the horizon, the sky burning its last orange light before the coming night. The air had gotten colder, making the campfire a wonderful reprieve.

“Because I headbutted him.” Gale blinked, turning the gears of his wizard brain to best understand the cryptic words of their leader. Nope, nothing came to mind.

“You headbutted him. That’s it? I understand you have a propensity to be a bit forgiving about our occasional misdeeds, especially from the rogue, but I can’t help but wonder if it's better to keep things reigned in.” Olive’s eye twitched at the accusation.

“Excuse you, that’s not my job, as much as you all like to make it.”

Gale gave Olive a doubtful look that Olive rolled her eyes back at. Olive looked down at the carrot she had left and pursed her lips. Ignoring the doubt, she grabbed the root and started chopping, steadying her hand with each push of the knife.

“When I managed to get out of his grasp, I noticed how weak he was. Maybe because of the tadpole or maybe falling from the sky. Regardless, he was desperate. Desperate enough to pull a knife on someone while coughing up blood. I wanted to leave him there, he wasn’t my problem. Just as I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel guilt.” Olive stopped chopping, eyes hardened as she contemplated her next words.

“Don’t get me wrong, I had no sympathy for Astarion,” Olive grumbled as she lifted her knife eye level, staring at the tiefling who stared back in the shiny blade.

“So many dead people on that beach. I didn’t find any survivors until Astarion. In his own twisted way, he was reaching out for help, for anything actually. I may not remember anything from my past but I know when I see someone who has desperately clawed for their survival for way too long. Long enough that a helping hand can seem like a hurting one. I think-” Olive paused for a moment, looking at her own black eyes in the blade, watching how the dark shadows swirled in her orbs.

“I think I saw myself in him, saw someone scared underneath the bravo and bite. Had I left him, would he still be alive or would the worst happen?” Olive gave Gale a quick glance before looking back at the disappearing sun. Gale did not know what to say.

“I did not know how much our fates would intertwine or how much we needed each other back then, but-,” Olive swung the knife on the last bit of the carrot, slicing it cleanly into two, and shoved the now even pieces into the cauldron. “-I got tired of corpses for company.”

“I hear that,” Gale said solemnly.

Olive took a moment to contemplate and let out a long sigh. Olive never realized how much that encounter changed her. Whether they turned into mindflayers now or died trying to be cured, one thing for certain was that Astarion had made a mark in her life. Olive shook her head with a soft chuckle.

“By the way, Gale, why did you suddenly bring him up?,”Olive asked curiously. The wizard gave her a surprised look.

“Oh you didn't know? Astarion has been-” Olive put a finger to her mouth, and made an imperceptive motion towards their back. Gale held his breath listening. There was sudden rustling getting louder and the familiar iron smell of blood.

In an instant, Olive grabbed the cooking knife and a bigger dagger that she had sheathed and threw them both behind her. They both heard the sound of blade hitting flesh and a loud yelp.

“BY THE TRIAD HOLD YOUR FIRE!! IT’S US! ”

Both of them turned to see their hunting group cautiously step out of the forest with a large collection of caught animals. Lae’zel carried multiple dead rabbits, all hanging by rope while flashing a clearly annoyed face at Olive. Wyll had a small boar in his arms, using it as a shield for the knife that was currently lodged deep in its carcass. Wyll seemed hesitant to step any further as he still held the boar up.

“Hells, this was not the welcome party I had expected. Who didn't you think we were?!” Olive put up a hand to apologize. “I heard a sound and smelled blood. Better to ask questions later than after getting mauled. Sorry.”

“Hmph, your aim has gotten better,“ Astarion mused with the click of his tongue.

He managed to catch her dagger between his fingers at the blade and was now tossing it around, not even having to look at it as he grabbed it by the sharp end with each throw. Olive frowned as she watched Astarion strut towards her, her dagger now his plaything. The tiefling marched closer to him and reached out to grab her dagger back.

“Speak of the devils,” Olive muttered under her breath. Astarion must have heard it as he flashed Olive a signature smile, pearly fangs and all.

“Oh darling, were you thinking of me? How honored I am to be laced within your delicious thoughts.”

Astarion took a step back to dodge Olive’s hand, his own still twirling the dagger between his fingers. His shit eating grin plastered his face, extremely amused by Olive's attempts at retrieving her weapon. Olive’s eyebrows twitched, wanting to give no satisfaction to the rogue.

“Please, we were talking about how soft your head became from just a smack.”

Olive jabbed Astarion by the ribs with her elbow, making him falter enough for her to catch her dagger midair. Astarion scowled, rubbing his ribs. He lowered his face closer to Olive's, baring his teeth, this time in contempt. Olive matched him as well, her eyes steely as her hand readied her dagger. The scent of aged brandy coming from his neck tickled Olive's nose. Olive’s scowl deepened, hiding any trace of how really felt about his scent. They both heard Lae’zel let out a huff and a curse.

“Do your hate mating in your own tents, away from our eyes. I rather dine on our hunted feast in peace.” Gale had to stifle a laugh while Olive’s jaw dropped. Wyll began scooting a bit further, hoping to avoid the coming incursion.

“In what kind of plane is this a mating ritual?!” She felt fingers sliding under her chin and pulling her head to look at Astarion, a smarmy grin reflecting how absolutely delighted he was. Olive ignored the little flip of her stomach made.

“Oh, I could oblige, darling. All you need to do is come to my tent~?” Olive took a moment to blink twice before she slammed her forehead on to his. Astarion let out a yelp while Olive huffed in satisfaction.

“Sorry, darling. I thought I saw a mosquito on your head.” Olive grabbed the boar from Wyll who gave Olive a look of appreciation- and maybe a tinge of fear. The tiefling brought the boar near the campfire and started skinning it as everyone else gathered by the fire to help prep the other caught prey.

Gale let out a cough. “So, about earlier. The reason I asked is because Astarion claimed that when your both had met, it was he who saved you. That you, and I quote ’fell in love with him the moment he swept your feet’ Obviously, none of us believed it so I wanted to hear your side of the story, which makes more sense, I might add.”

Olive’s head slowly turned to Gale, jaw clenched tight.

“He WHAT ?!” Olive jumped up from kneeling over the boar and snarled at Astarion.

“YOU LYING BLOOD SUCKING ARSE ?! DID I NOT SMACK YOUR HEAD ENOUGH?!” One look at Olive’s face was enough for Astarion to quickly get up from sitting and run off. Olive tailed behind him, her now bloody dagger ready to stab the elf.

Lae'zel watched them run off with a disapproving look.

“I truly will never understand this plane’s rituals.” Gale and Wyll nodded in agreement.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3ficfeb #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x durge #dark urge #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanart #bg3 dark urge #baldur's gate durge #one of my fav fics to write cause i love analyzing their relationship

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lilmoony · 2 years

Note

Hm maybe Horace from MPHFPC x Shy/protective reader where the reader always gets infront of Horace to protect him. Maybe the reader and (Any peculiar child) get into an argument over something and Horace protects reader this time.

❝ the two times you protected him ; the one time he protected you ❞

pairing: horace somnusson x reader plot: you're always the one protecting horace. until one day he protects you too (set before jacob came in the loop) content: people teasing horace, some arguing, enoch is insufferable (i love him though), fluff if you squint word count: ≈ 1.6k words ps: i hope you'll like it <3

As every September 2nd 1940, you were sat with Horace on a little white bench in the gardon, your sketchbook in your hands. When you were little, your wish was to become a tailor and when you came in Cairnholm, you found a friend who could help you: Horace. Except him, you were great friend with Emma, but that was it. Social relationships weren't really your thing: you always had trouble talking to people since you were a shy and introvert person.

"I need your help because I'm indecisive. My sketches may be subjects to change, okay?" you paused for a moment "I thought about doing a wrap dress just like Elsa Schiaparelli, do you remember?"

"Of course I do."

He went through the pages, nodding everytime.

"You did a beautiful work Y/N" he said while giving you back the sketchbook while you started to blush.

In forty (40) years, you had time to improve your drawing skills, and it really showed.

"It's not tha-"

Olive posted herself in front of you two, shade replacing the sun.

"Hello you two! The boys' balloon is stuck in a tree. They need your help Y/N."

"O-okay, I'm coming back," you said while getting up.

You put down your sketchbook on the bench, next to Horace. Olive took your place, beginning to talk with Horace. You headed towards Millard and Hugues, who were looking a the ballon, which was really high. Depending on who was available, it was either you or Emma who helped with high things. Emma could levitate; you had telekinesis.

"How did you even manage to do this, boys? you asked them, concentrating on the balloon that you unstuck, then slowly lowered.

"It was not me, it was Hughes" replied Millard.

"You're a liar, it was you! accused Hughes.

You only shook your head, a little smile on your lips. You gave them the balloon and headed back to where Olive and Horace were. Something was wrong because you could swear Horace was embarrassed, his lips were pursed and a pinkish shade could be seen on his face. Olive had a big smile on her face and you heard a chuckle coming from her mouth.

"What is happening here?" you asked curiously.

"I really don't know," Olive answered, emphasizing on the "don't".

"Olive, stop it. I know you did something. Leave Horace alone."

"Okay, I'll leave you too," she got up and left you alone.

You waited for a little bit, watching her leave. She turned around at least twice before she got out of your sight.

"What happened?" you asked Horace, a concerned look on your face.

He cleared his throat.

"Nothing, don't worry"

You went back to your conversation, yet Horace wasn't the same and you could feel he was still embarrassed about what Olive had said to him earlier, whatever it might be.

*****

You were currently in the middle of your daily walk, hand in hand with your other friend: Emma. You were talking about animals, one of the subjects she loved to talk about with you.

"You know, when I was a kid, I loved frogs and butterflies. I still do! And one day, my teacher asked us to draw our favorite animal. I didn't know what to choose between these two; I was so indecisive back then. So I decided to draw a frog and a butterfly," you began to tell your story.

"You drew a frog and a butterfly? These are two animals, not one."

"Well, it was... Because I drew a frog with wings and called it a frogerfly."

Emma chuckled. You loved her laughs, and they never failed to make you smile.

"A frogerfly?" she asked, trying to stop her laugh which was beginning to hurt her belly.

"Yes, a frogerfly! And it was a beautiful frogerfly Emma!"

"Oh, I can imagine that!"

You and Emma were caught up in your conversation. Yet, at a moment, you heard some ruckus and a voice shouting. You, Emma and Miss Peregrine, who was almost next to you, turned quickly, confused. Miss Peregrine had, in addition, a frown on her face. The voice you heard was none other than Enoch's, who seemed pretty upset. About what? Well, we never really know. Enoch always seems annoyed.

"Are you serious?" Enoch shouted.

You couldn't say anymore you didn't know who he was talking to. Indeed, everyone had stopped walking, all looking at the noise caused by Enoch. In front of him was Horace, a calm yet confused look on his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Enoch. Please calm down," Horace's voice was cut off again by an exasperated sigh Enoch let out.

"Stop lying and just admit it" Enoch made a step forward towards Horace.

"Enoch, please stop and care explain yourself" exclaimed Miss Peregrine, everyone now was looking at her, except for Enoch who was still looking annoyed at Horace.

"He knows really well" answered the concerned.

"In fact, I don't. Please, enlighten me," replied Horace, his voice extremely calm as Enoch huffed in annoyance.

You went towards them.

"If you won't say what happened, leave Horace. And stop opportuning our walk please," your voice was pretty calm despite the fact that you were talking in front of everyone, who were nodding at your statement.

"It's weird how you always have something to say when it comes to Horace, isn't it? Enoch asked you rhetorically before heading towards Miss Peregrine as your cheeks reddened.

Fortunately, nobody said anything about the comment Enoch had just made, and you could never thank them enough for that. Yet it was true: you had always something to say because he was your friend. Even if your relationship was considered as friendship, you didn't have friendly feelings towards him but rather more romantic feelings.

You all continued your daily walk as if nothing happened. You were now talking with Horace; Emma was trying to talk to Enoch who stopped talking for the rest of the day. So she went to Olive instead, not wanting to disturb you and Horace.

*****

You were currently in the library, searching for the next book you were going to read. Forty (40) years after the beginning of the loop, there were still books you've never read. After some time, you finally decided to read The War of the Worlds, by H. G. Wells. A science-fiction novel. Not your favorite genre, but you liked reading, and one of your objectives was to read the entire library before the twentieth century would come to an end.

You heard someone some steps in the corridor and directly figured out who it was.

"Hello Y/N..." a little voice spoke behind your back.

"Hello Bronwyn," you turned to her. "What do you need, my sweet Bronwyn?"

She loved hearing this nickname in your mouth, and she smiled.

"Could you come in my bedroom? My teddy bear is on the wardrobe, and I can't reach it," she said to you while you frowned a little bit.

"Why is it on your wardrobe?" you let down The War of the Worlds on one of the shelves.

"I think he climbed on it during the night," you couldn't help but smile when you heard her words.

"Oh, of course. Why didn't I think of it earlier?"

You followed her in the corridor when Miss Peregrine's voice call you out.

"Y/N, could you please bring this jar of formalin to Enoch? He forgot it."

"Yes, of course Miss Peregrine."

You took the jar and went upstairs, Bronwyn in front of you. When arriving on the second floor, you headed to Enoch's experiment room, as you called it, while Bronwyn went in her room, waiting for you. Enoch wasn't in his room, so you decided to put down the jar on his table. You walked in the room, not really confident in entering the experiment room while Enoch is absent. But he wasn't really absent.

"Y/N! What are you doing?" a voice shouted at you.

It startled you, almost dropping the jar on the floor. You turned to him, who was standing at the door.

"I- Miss Peregrine told-" you tried to explain but he interrupted you.

"I don't care. You don't have the authorization to come in."

You frowned, confused.

"I didn't know we needed an au-"

"You're the only who need an authorization"

You couldn't say you weren't hurt at his words. Even though you weren't friends, it was still awful to hear this from a person you had to live with for eternity. You simply put down the jar on the table, causing a loud clash. He made a step towards you.

"What is happening? Is everything alright Y/N?" you heard a voice behind Enoch.

This voice belonged to Horace, and you couldn't help a little smile on your lips.

"She-" began Enoch before being cut off by Horace.

"I am speaking to Y/N, Enoch" his calm voice soothing you.

To say Horace's sentence shut Enoch up is an understatement. He was too baffled to answer back. You only shook your head negatively, looking at him while Enoch, as always, huffed in annoyance.

"Come Y/N, let's head to the garden and leave Enoch with his bad temper," he said while offering you his arm.

Some red appeared on your cheeks and you pursed your lips. You nodded and headed towards Horace.

"I have to go to see Bronwyn before," you remembered.

After giving back to Bronwyn her teddy bear, you spent the rest of the day with Horace in the garden, arm in arm. He reassured you about Enoch, telling you to ignore him. Your afternoon was full of joy. You had taken your book and were reading to Horace, who was listening to you, a smile on his face, and watching dreamily.

#miss peregrines home for peculiar children x reader #horace somnusson x reader #horace somnusson imagine

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nxttheendxfthestxry · 8 months

Text

"And honestly, fuck the so-called rules with fashion, if you like something, wear it."

#and if you're looking for trouble then count me in || oliver #oliver / open #thread: so called rules

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84reedsy · 8 months

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A Friend Date

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7888

Characters: Kevin Nash, Scott Hall, FemOC (Brooklyn)

Pairings: Kevin Nash/FemOC; Scott Hall/FemOC (implied)

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Consensual Infidelity, semi-public sex

“For some reason, it's really important to Scott that we are friends and can get along,” Brooklyn had trouble saying the simplest of things to Kevin Nash without an attitude creeping into her tone.

“We can fake it in front of him. At least, I can,” Kevin crossed his arms, defiant to her olive branch. Just because Scott was smitten with her didn’t mean he had to be, for that reason alone he often resisted returning any kindness out of spite.

“You can barely look at me without sneering” she pointed at him, “See? You just did it,”

Kevin resisted rolling his eyes, which would only further her point. He wanted to wipe that smug smile from her face. That's probably the way she often felt when he was around. He couldn’t blame her but couldn’t be bothered to change his ways at this point.

“Fine. How the hell do we do a ‘friend date’?” He gave in though the words were full of disdain. Seeing Scott outside through the kitchen window reminded him quickly that would do anything for his long-time companion. Even if it was willinging subject himself to an evening with her.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I guess we go to dinner or movies or the beach or something.”

“I doubt we'd pick the same movie…” he said judgmentally, “no chick flicks,”

“Oh no of course not,” she said sarcastically, “because you're much too deep and introspective,”

“You know I was doing you a favor agreeing to this, but I'm thinking it's a bad idea now,” he opened a beer and started to walk towards the door to the patio. Even though she and Scott had met on the road, Kevin didn’t share the same camaraderie with her, he didn’t feel obligated to play an audience to her.

“God, I’m sorry,” she went after him grabbing his arm, “Please, for Scott if anything. Just dinner or whatever,”

“Fine, Tuesday, I'll pick you up around 7,” he agreed, sighing loudly.

“What should I wear?” She asked, wondering what shitty dive he'd drag her to.

“Something a little nice. Low cut, maybe they'll comp our meal and I'll get outta this pretty cheap,” Kevin surmised.

“There's that classy reputation I've heard so much about,” she rolled her eyes towards his back as she followed him out to the patio.

Kevin couldn't deny how happy she seemed to make Scott. The smile across his friend's face was genuine when she came out of the house and she went right to him, wrapping her arms around him as soon as she reached him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been greeted like that. To say it made him bitter wouldn't be a lie, but more than anything, it made him envious.

She was too young for Scott, he reminded himself. 20 years his junior was too young to take anyone seriously. They were barely dating before Scott moved her into his house. Kevin had his reasons to be mistrustful.

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

“He agreed to it, by the way,” Brooklyn said as she got ready for bed, Scott emerging from the bathroom in a towel. She grinned at him with his black hair loose around his face and shoulders. Ever since she mentioned that she liked it down, he had been wearing it that way a lot more.

“Agreed to what?” He asked, confused at first, “Oh, going out together?”

Brooklyn could hear a subdued excitement in his voice. She knew Scott cared about her, but she knew how much Kevin meant to him, too. She never knew why Kevin never warmed up to her while they toured the pro-wrestling circuit together. She was nothing but nice to him then, but the closer she got to Scott, the more standoffish Kevin became. Sure, she could understand some jealousy, but these were full-grown, middle aged men; she expected more maturity out of them.

“Yes, we're going to dinner Tuesday,” she watched Scott like a hawk in his towel, any chance she had to see his body she took without apology. His physical presence made anything else on her mind seem to disappear.

He dropped the towel and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs, but chuckled when he saw the look of disappointment on Brooklyn’s face.

“What? You get to wear that little number to bed, but I gotta be naked?” He scoffed a little as she crawled up on the bed and kneeled at the edge of it.

Brooklyn looked down at the silky teddy he'd just bought for her.

“But it won't stay on long…” she reasoned, “I just wanted you to see it on me since it was a present.”

“Well aren't you just a good little girl,” he stalked toward her.

She found herself grateful that he'd put on those boxer briefs, they presented his bulge so well that it made her mouth water.

“How the hell is Kev supposed to keep his hands off of you when you look this good,” he licked his lips looking at her.

“Don't worry….Daddy…he won't see me like this,” she mewled at him.

Scott growled audibly at her, he still was extremely aroused by the new name she used for him. He was already half-mast, but he felt the surge of rigidity. Grabbing a handful of satin, he pulled her to him.

“God for a good girl you're so naughty…”

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

Tuesday

“What about this?” Brooklyn checked her angles in the mirror as she tried on yet another outfit. Scott watched amused, comfy in sweats and a t-shirt.

“It's cute, I've always liked that dress on you…” he thought about how often he had trouble keeping his hands to himself if she was in any kind of skirt. He knew Kevin well enough to know he had the same problem, “What about that red one?”

“The red one?? Scott, that's like skin tight and all lace,” she looked at him incredulously, “It's basically lingerie.”

“He might find it harder to be mean to you if you look like a fucking sex goddess,” Scott reasoned.

“Well that would make sense if I was trying to fuck him,” Brooklyn rolled her eyes but disappeared back into the closet.

She paired it with a skintight white slip dress underneath the sheer red lace. She wound half her hair up and secured it with an onyx zanzi and dug out white heels. They would give her a couple inches, but Scott (and Kev) would still tower over her.

Scott whistled a low, long tone when she walked out of the closet. She spun for him before going to the mirror again. She could tug at the bottom hem all she wanted, it wasn't going down any further.

“Look at your ass in that,” Scott hummed a hungry vibration in his chest, “put a bow on that and call it a gift to mankind,”

“Stooop,” she blushed, but didn't really mean it. She looked at the low scooped neckline that packaged her breasts as well as her backside. She thought of what Kevin said about earning a free meal…this certainly could do the job with the right waiter.

“I wouldn't blame him for fucking you if you wear that,” Scott lounged further down in his chair, “hell any warm blooded man for that matter,”

“He wishes,” she mumbled, “I can't handle the man I've got, I don't need anyone else,” She smirked back at him, “Plus, remember what I wore in the ring? He didn’t want to fuck me then, he’s not going to now,” she reasoned.

“It's not gonna bother me if you do,” he said honestly. He knew what made Kevin tick. He knew he'd understand what she was to him if Kevin could see her the way that Scott did. He'd understand if she acted the same way to Kevin for just one night.

“What are you trying to say?” She looked at him apprehensively, “You're not pimping me out to your buddies now are you...” She started to head back into the closet.

“Brook, wear that,” Scott stood walking towards her, “you've already got it on and you look so hot in it,” he made an obvious pass over her with his eyes.

“You didn't answer my question,” she said with a suspicious stare, backing out in their room.

“I'm not nor would I ever ‘pimp you out to my buddies’. If I was, Waltman would pay a pretty penny, “ he teased to her scrunched face, “just teasing…” he got amusement out of her reaction.

“So what's all this about screwing Nash?” She felt a nervousness in her gut that made her feel self conscious.

“Baby…I'm not saying you should. But I want you two to have fun and get to know each other. Have a couple drinks. Show him who you really are. Just be you. If you do that, I'm just saying I couldn't resist you, how can I expect him to?” Scott tried to reason, knowing he was doing a poor job. Her skeptical face confirmed this.

“What if it does? I don't want to hurt you …”she stopped there, already upset by the idea of causing him any pain.

“This is different, trust me,” he slipped his arms around her sides, “I just want you to let loose and have fun. He'll see what I see then.”

Brooklyn still wasn't convinced, but she nodded to placate Scott. The doorbell caught both of their attention. Scott left to answer it as she finished her earrings and lightly added subtle eyeliner. She didn't know what compelled her to change her simple panties, but she slipped on a cheeky satin pair instead.

She carefully went downstairs, getting used to the heels. At the bottom waited Scott and Kevin. It was quick, but she could have sworn she saw Kevin gulp. But he was definitely looking, and looking at everything. Scott pretended like he didn't notice.

“There she is,” Scott smiled up at her, proudly beaming over her attractiveness.

“Evening,” Kevin said, clearing his throat. He stared her down as she stopped on the last step to keep her height closer to his.

“Good evening,” she answered politely. Scott had to stifle laughing at the contention between the two of them, “Are you ready? We should probably get going,” she was not up for small talk.

She kissed Scott on the cheek goodbye, Kevin walking out the door first and going to the driver's side door.

“Geez Kev, your mom raised you better than that,” Scott shook his head as he crossed his arms leaning against the door frame. He could see Brooklyn was already irritated, but she hid it well.

“She's capable of getting her own door,” Kevin excused his lack of chivalry, “See?” He said as she opened her own door. She gave one last look of annoyance toward Scott, before rolling her eyes and getting in.

Kevin tried to focus on driving, glad he brought his 5-speed Lexus. Shifting gears kept him somewhat distracted from the amount of bare leg in his passenger seat.

“Nice dress,” he said, still not looking directly at her.

“Thanks,” she tried to adjust the hem in vain once again, “just something I had in the back of my closet,” she looked over at his wardrobe selection now.

He wore khaki shorts and a crisp, but plain white t-shirt, not an unusual male outfit for the sweltering humidity of Florida. His hair was done perfectly and his goatee looked freshly trimmed. His cologne smelled incredible, one of those scents that one would find themselves leaning in to catch more of.

“You look nice, too,” she returned the compliment honestly, “I feel like I should be getting hair tips from you,” she complimented him as she remembered Scott's wish that she be herself.

“Yours has always been nice, I should be asking you,” for someone who always knew what to say, he was certainly having trouble finding words to fill the silence.

She started to reach for the radio, but remembered her manners even if Kevin forgot his, “Do you mind?” She motioned towards the knobs.

He shrugged, accelerating and shifting as they merged into the highway, “Feel free,”

She fiddled with the stations until a familiar tune floated through the speakers. She had no idea what kind of music he was into, but figured I'd he was too opposed to it, he'd say something.

As T-Boz started her quick, husky lyrics, Brooklyn felt more relaxed, her leg keeping a slow time with the beat. Kevin side-eyed her movements, noticing the subtle movement of her hips. He looked away quickly when she caught him.

For some reason, catching him relaxed her. He was just a male, not some impenetrable force of nature.

“This is tight,” he complimented her, always a sucker for R&B, “Who is this?”

“TLC…how do you not know TLC??,” if anything they had similar tastes in music, “You into this kinda stuff?”

“Hell, I'm from Detroit. Motown. Birthplace of this music,” he spoke reactively, being himself though he was trying not to, “I’ve heard of ‘em, thought they were more of a pop girl group though,”

“We have to get you Crazy, Sexy, Cool. It's a great album,” She started to feel a bit more comfortable now, “I've only been to Detroit when we were on tour. Never got to spend much time there.” She was feeling good about making conversation.

“It's home, but it's cold for way too long,” Kevin didn't elaborate, essentially shutting down the exchange.

Brooklyn tried again a few moments later.

“So where are we going?” She looked out the window, trying to figure out where they might be headed.

“It's a Jamaican place up here on the lakefront.” He vaguely gestured to the south, “Good, ethnic seafood and shit”

Brooklyn was expecting a parking lot with a food truck at this point. But the swanky restaurant outdid her menial expectations of him. Clearly it was elevated island food. At least the valet opened the door and held his hand for her. She almost jumped when she felt Kevin's large hand on the small of her back as he led her in.

“Jumpy much?” He snickered, before speaking with the hostess.

“Not used to you touching me without it being in the form of a powerbomb or chokeslam,” She reasoned, “Usually expect something violent,” She smirked knowing the hostess probably would take her words out of context. Kevin furrowed his brow angrily, knowing how she was making him look. Her smirk only confirmed it was on purpose.

The hostess only blushed as she handed off their menus to an assistant server, not making eye contact with Kevin again.

“I’ll be lucky to get out of here without getting arrested,” His teeth were gritted slightly and she could feel the heat of his glare on her, but it did little to reduce her smugness.

She sat in the chair that was pulled out for her, glad it wasn’t Kevin as she’d likely have ended up on the floor. She glanced at the wine list the maitre'd held.

“The 1972 Malbec, please,” She was met with an approving head nod from the maitre’d before he turned to Kevin, who looked at her almost disapprovingly. It was no Cristal, but it was far from their cheapest.

“Just bring a bottle of it,” He caved, at least this way it would be cheaper per glass.

“A whole bottle, what exactly are your plans?” She said as they were left alone for the moment.

“If you think I’m going to go through this whole night sober, you’re wrong. Gonna at least need a couple of glasses to tolerate you.” He sipped on his glass of water.

“Wow, just keep layering on the charm,” She put her hands on the table as if she were going to push away and stand. Kevin reached his foot out, catching the lip on the bottom of her seat and pulled it forward roughly so she was pinned to the table.

“We agreed to this, don’t get all pissy about it and think you’re going to bail. You’re stuck with me tonight, kid,” He reminded her. He lowered his leg slowly, feeling her knees trying to close.

“Rule #1 then, don’t call me kid,” She lowered her voice, but maintained a serious tone, “I’m not a kid, your buddy Scott knows that real well,” She smiled as the sommelier poured their glasses expertly. Kevin couldn’t help but glance at her cleavage as her arms inadvertently pressed them together even more. Scott had always been a fan of tits and he could definitely see the appeal there. Her ring outfits had never been conservative, but something about being in dressy, but regular clothes and not a costume made him view her differently.

“Fine, you’re not a kid, Brooklyn,” He said her name and it felt oddly personal to say to her. She seemed to react to it similarly. He grabbed for his glass, but stopped short of drinking when she cleared her throat.

“Shouldn’t we toast to something?” She reached for her glass now, holding it up from the table slightly, “isn’t it bad luck not to toast?”

“Fine,” he held his glass out, “To an…unusual woman… who makes my friend very happy and for that I am grateful for her,” He offered, noting the subdued surprise on her face. The corner of his mouth couldn’t resist a smirk.

“To a man that the love of my life considers family, that I hope to one day as well,” She hated saying such vulnerable things, but it was the truth. The glasses clinked and they each sipped, their eyes darting away from the other. They both knew that such statements would make things awkward and they had been right.

The wine warmed her tongue, throat and belly, and seemed to simmer her discomfort with her company.

“So…do you hate me because I take up too much of Scott’s time?” She asked blatantly.

Kevin sputtered in his wine a little, managing to keep it in the glass.

“Jesus, no,” He started, before bending to her unconvinced gaze, “Maybe partly. It's been him and me for a long time. I have my family, but Scott’s never been the -” He knew he was going to sound harsh and selfish, “ he’s never been the stable one. I was the guy he could count on to be there.”

“And if I’m the real deal, then you have to figure out the role of just being a regular friend?” She surmised. It was true, but he still didn’t like it.

“Honey, you haven’t seen everything yet. There might be nights you’re calling me for backup.” He knew Scott was in a different mindset now and the truth was, he had no idea if he’d fall back on those old habits if he was in a state of domestic bliss.

“And if I did?” She tried to ignore the spite in his voice, “If I called you for help, would you show up?”

Kevin took a long drink of his wine, “I would. But for him more than for you.”

Brooklyn exhaled in frustration. Just when they seemed to be heading towards some small but significant breakthrough, he had to return to disparagement.

Brooklyn excused herself to the bathroom and silently screamed into the echo-y void out of irritation. She could understand feeling threatened by a woman. This was nothing new in the realm of men’s relationships. But Kevin was being purposefully obtuse. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the balls if only to see something else on his face other than contempt.

She leaned on the counter staring at herself in the mirror. She thought of Scott’s roundabout ‘approval’ that tonight was a ‘free pass’. He might have looked at her tits once or twice, but she couldn’t imagine Kevin was thinking of anything close to fucking her. She thought it far more likely that he might throw her in the lake to the gators.

“Be nice. It irritates him more when he doesn’t get to you,” She said aloud to herself. She adjusted her dress in the mirror, smoothing out the lace and pushing up the bust.

“You the one here with that super tall stud?” A lady walked into the bathroom as she was adjusting.

“Yeah, that’s my date,” She tried not to spit out the word.

“Girl, I ain’t ever seen someone stare at an ass like he was you. I mean, congratulations on it,” She complimented, “But you definitely got the upperhand on that man,”

Brooklyn grinned at herself, the girl code was a marvelous thing.

In her absence, Kevin had ordered for her and though she was miffed at first, when he revealed what he’d ordered, she settled her ruffled feathers. It was not a cheap dish and shrimp happened to be one of her favorite foods.

“I didn’t forget that time you out ate Norton in boiled shrimp,” he recalled, “If anything I have to respect you for that,”

She tried to let her irritation roll off her back, remembering what was said in the restroom. Perhaps he was lashing out because he was attracted to her and felt guilty about it. Lashing out would be a natural response. The idea seemed to make a lot of his behavior fall into place. Maybe Scott knew it, too and was trying to lead her to the same conclusion. She held her tongue for now, still managing polite conversation.

She played the part of a gracious date as he paid a surprisingly half-comped bill. He knew her kindness and subversive flirting was likely the cause. She seemed to easily enchant any man that came near her if she felt like it. Why she chose to be such a bitch to him was a mystery.

“Maybe because that’s a valid response to you being a dick to her first?” his subconscious suggested, but he brushed it off.

Once again, the valet opened her door, though for a moment Kevin seemed to head in the direction of doing so, but side-stepped when he was beaten.

“Where to now? Or have I worn you out for the evening?” She questioned, holding the door handle tightly as he got up to speed quickly. The sudden movement was exhilarating if not a little alarming.

He had to side glance at the way her thighs flexed when she braced herself.

“Don’t let her get you all worked up now,” His logic spoke up.

“Country Club down the shore a little ways, they have a private club. Quiet, private kind of place.” He shifted into the next gear, grinding it a little.

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

The club was dimly lit and had nicer furniture than she’d seen before. She was sure the leather sofas were worth more than her car. There were several alcoves around the edge of the space, partially obscured by heavy, dark red drapes that were secured to one side. They were led to one after Kevin spoke with a well dressed host.

Other patrons were in various levels of formal attire, if anything Kevin looked underdressed, but she assumed money bought leeway with some things. The alcove was raised from the main floor and she was surprised that it was Kevin’s hand that was held out to help her step up.

“Those heels look dangerous,” He reasoned, motioning for her to pick her seat. Two cushy black brushed suede chairs were nestled in one corner flanked by a matching loveseat. A rich, wood low level table separated them from the edge of the alcove.

“They aren’t not dangerous, thank you,” She agreed with him.

She sat, crossing her ankles to keep her legs together. Sometimes she had to purposefully remember etiquette after spending so much time on the road with wrestlers. She saw Kevin mumble something quietly to the host while handing over a small stack of folded bills.

Moments later a tray with expensive champagne and strawberries was brought. She raised her eyebrows at the gesture, though confused by his mixed signals. He poured her a glass after dropping in a strawberry.

As he settled back in his chair with his own glass, Brooklyn couldn’t stop the urge to break his composure.

"I think I know why you actually hate me" She sipped the bubbly sweet liquid.

"Can't wait to hear this" He was surprised by her sudden and direct statement, thinking they'd already covered this at the restaurant.

"Because you're jealous." She tried to subdue her wicked, knowing grin. She was amused by the sour turn of his face.

"Me. Jealous. Of you. " He scoffed at the ridiculous assumption as if it weren’t true.

"Not really of me... but...of Scott kinda" She shrugged, leaning her chin on her hand as her elbow rested on the arm of the chair, ‘It’s understandable though,”

"What the fuck are you talking about? Scott’s like a brother, but we all know I have more going on than him" Kevin replied with a contrived superiority.

"Which is why it ticks you off so much! " She didn’t falter to his cocky manner, still confident in her assessment.

"Why what ticks me off?? Fuck off with your riddles, jesus christ" He cursed, feeling the weight of her judgement.

"That from the first moment you saw me,” she made a point to make eye contact, “you wanted to fuck me so bad that you could taste it. And Scott beat you to it." She returned her own cocky attitude, taking a longer drink without taking her eyes off of him.

"Is that so..." He leaned forward, his arms on his knees, scoffing again.

"And the worst part for you is, the first time you saw me tonight you thought the same thing. And now you're mad because you're dick is hard as a rock and there's nothing....you...can do....about it"

Kevin’s ears were ringing with her words and was livid about how true they were. He knew his anger was surfacing as his breathing labored under the building wrath.

"You're about to find out what I'm gonna do about it. And Scott's not here to save you” He warned her.

“What exactly is it you plan to do about it, Mr. Nash?” She took a strawberry from the table and bit into it slowly, letting her lips linger on the juicy red fruit.

He set his glass down, with an aggressive clink that was probably not far from shattering it. Eyes on her, he lifted his hand and motioned with a finger. At that moment, the drape slowly lowered, completely obscuring them from the rest of the room. The only dim light came from two sconces glowing faintly on the wall.

Though she had expected turnabout, she couldn’t help but wonder if he could see her chest rising more quickly as the silence between them thickened.

Slow rhythmic music softly sailed from hidden speakers. She didn’t dare break the stare first.

Kevin downed the rest of his champagne in one large gulp and stood. He was such an imposing man, more so when she was sitting looking up at his towering frame.

He held his hand down to her. She looked at it and back up to his face.

“Get up,” he said, motioning for her hand with his fingers, “You owe me a dance.”

Still with her eyes on him, she set her glass down and reached to slip her hand in his. She stood, one hand sliding to his bicep, the other he held in his hand. She came up to his chest, just slightly lower than Scott. She maintained the slightest gap between them as his other hand slid around her torso.

“How do I owe you a dance?” She asked with a much more submissive tone than before. His cologne was still like a welcome incense.

“For dinner,” He reasoned, looking down at her, “and for busting my balls the last three hours,” he said but did not laugh, his face increasingly serious.

“You know I don't like that,” she still felt the tension from his mood, but struggled against smirking as he raised an eyebrow, “Well…maybe I do…but I don't like that I like it,”

“I don't like how you make me feel,” Kevin said, his firm tone contradicting how gently he was holding her, she looked at him confused, “You make me so damn aroused every damn time I see you. I want you so bad most times I have to beat it twice in your bathroom just to maintain. And then I feel like shit because you're my best friend's woman and what kind of friend does that make me,” his teeth were nearly gritted and she somehow felt safe and in danger in the same moment.

“I didn't know you felt like that,” she admitted, having only picked up on the seething hatred. She had noticed Kevin made frequent bathroom trips but never assumed anything out of the ordinary. She felt a tingle between her legs thinking about him self-pleasuring out of desperation.

“I shouldn't. I should be able to just be friends with you. At least cordial so that when I come to my buddy's house I can watch the game without thinking about you the whole time or insulting each other constantly.” he breathed like the admission was a weight off his chest but a stone in his gut, “Scott has never treated me or any girl I've been with like this, “ he winced referring to his wife as part of ‘any girls’.

Kevin pushed her away and turned his back taking a few steps while running a hand over his face then through his hair. Telling her this wasn't reducing his culpability and if anything it was making it worse having to look at her in such a sexy little dress.

“This was a mistake….I need to take you home.” He stood with his back to her still, his hands on his hips now as he cursed his stupid mind.

He shuddered when he felt her hands lay flat against his back. They rose slowly, curving over the round of his shoulder.

“Brooklyn…. You shouldn't touch me,” he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Sit down,” she said so softly and gently that he nearly groaned, her hands pressuring his shoulders slightly.

“Brooklyn,” he protested weakly.

“Sit, Kevin….please,” she stepped closer to him, her breasts grazing his back.

He conceded and sat on the love seat, silently watching as she stood between his splayed legs.

“Close your eyes,” she said, leaning forward, her fingers grazing down over his eyes, “Close ‘em,”

He did so, his other senses acutely aware as she straddled his lap. With the slow music, she moved her hips in time with it, her hands crept over his chest and torso. His head fell back against the frame of the couch as he focused on feeling her against him. He'd had lap dances before, but nothing this sensual, nothing that made his breath shudder from his lips like this. He tried to hold still, but his own hips rolled in time with her. His hands gripped into the couch, nearly puncturing the fabric.

Brooklyn kept the pressure of her hands soft, grazing over his neck, face, and threading through his hair. She could tell she was working him up, but she wasn't doing herself any favors either. She was impressed that he hadn't touched her, but the way his hand gripped the arm of the loveseat, she knew he wanted to.

“If you want to touch me,” She whispered, “You just have to ask,”

His fingers twitched and she knew he was fighting his own inner turmoil. She felt the hem of her dress riding higher and higher as her thighs spread wide across his lap. She separated the lace from the white slip and shimmied it over her head. It was just as tight, but the fabric alone showed the obvious hardened tip of each nipple as it hugged her breasts tightly.

She pulled his shirt from where it was tucked in, running her hands underneath it. She felt the radiating heat of his skin, drawing a strained sigh out of him.

“Brooklyn…. Can I touch you…please god dammit let me touch you,” he sounded regretful to ask, but she could see he was about to burst.

“Yes, Kevin…touch me,” She spoke softly to him. His large hands did not waste time, surprisingly going to her waist first, but it made sense as he pushed her down more firmly against his lap. She felt why immediately as the khaki cloth stretched over his stiff member. But they wandered swiftly. She couldn't help but moan as his hands gripped her scantily covered ass, squeezing and massaging it roughly.

She grinded against him slowly, wondering if he was going to remain submissive or at some point take control. She would see how far she could take it before he lost his composure.

She raised enough that one of her tits hovered above his face, she ran the cotton covered nipple over his slack lip, the weight of her breast grazing his chin.

He moaned, his eyes still closed as his head leaned forward, mouthing her breast. With his teeth, he pulled the fabric down enough to nibble on her bare nipple. His hand slid back to her hips, pushing her down hard against him as he dry humped her harshly. She held on to him for stability as his tongue swirled around the rosey peak and her sex gyrated against his.

“Fuck… Kevin,” she moaned, “fuck…stop, please god, stop!” she begged, losing the fight against cumming already. Kevin slowed for a second, before she grabbed his hair and changed her tune, “Fuck it…don't stop,” she encouraged him to keep going as she pressed her sex firmly against him, “Kev, I'm cumming!” She whispered in a high pitch as she felt her juices dampen her already slick panties.

Kevin opened his eyes just in time to see pleasure etched on her face as she gripped his arms tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him securely as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. She bit her lip as she looked down at him.

“I…I didn't mean to do that yet,” she mumbled. From the haze in Kevin’s listless gaze she would have thought he'd cum, too.

“Do you know how hot you look when you cum, fuck,” he said with a hungry look in his eye, “did you get wet?” He asked, licking his lips.

Brooklyn grinned mischievously, “I guess Scott didn't tell you about that part,” she slid down him a little, his parted lips beckoning her.

“I told him I didn't want to hear anything about you…it'd only make me want you more,” He admitted. He kissed her back insistently as her mouth pressed to his. The kiss was breathless and needy, his hands pulling the slip down her body so the entirety of it bunched at her waist.

She parted from his lips long enough to beg in a whisper, “Put your hand in my panties,”

“What??” He had her nearly naked in his lap, yet couldn't quite believe his ears.

“I want you to feel what you've done to me,” She sat back enough for him to slip his hand down the front. He first found her freshly smoothed skin, but quickly found the molten wetness coating her sex.

“Jesus christ…” he slid his fingers further, massaging her sensitive bud and making her squirm, “ Wanna cum for me again?” His own words rung in his ears now, almost unbelieving that he actually said them.

“Yes…make me cum, Kev…I'm so close,” She felt the tingles building before he even touched her, the direct contact sending her to the edge again quickly. His intense gaze wasn't helping to subdue it either.

Her hips rolled her sex against his wiggling fingers and she arched her back and let her head fall backwards as she came. His free hand massaged her firm tits as he felt her pussy coat his fingers with fresh wetness.

Her legs were shaking, but she managed to stand, pulling the slip down her legs and letting the panties fall with it. She started to step out of the heels, but Kevin stopped her.

“Leave ‘em on…it's hotter that way….” He looked up and down her naked body, jealous that Scott had full access to this all the time, but at the same time totally understanding her appeal. The slit of her pussy glistened with the wetness she elicited for him. His fingers were still sticky with it, but he wanted to taste it from the source, “Please let me lick that pretty little pussy,” he scooted forward, his hands holding her hips.

Brooklyn stepped her legs slightly more apart and put her hands atop his head, guiding him to her. His wide, strong tongue licked the length of her slit, flicking past her clit and suckling lightly on it as she whimpered.

“Kev…oh fuck…Kev….” Whimpering his name only made his tongue more spirited.

Not wanting to waste the slick on his fingers, he circled her entrance with them, before slipping them inside and shallowly fucking her cunt. Her knees wobbled, but she stayed on her feet as she felt a tickle surge into the sweltering heat of another orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, but didn't stop as she recovered, moving his head back just enough to have an amazing view of his fingers sinking into her pussy.

“Are you gonna let me see that cock I've heard so much about?” She cooed, running her fingernails through his hair. He looked up at her, still slowly working his fingers. He could see the pleasured reactions on her face still.

“What have you heard?” He slowly slid his fingers from her.

“Essentially that you're basically going to rip me in two,” She chewed her lip, “but I'd like to see for myself.”

“We…we can't undo it…if we do this…” he seemed still slightly apprehensive

“You've made me cum three times and had your mouth full of my pussy…I think we've already passed too far…why stop there when I know you're dying to fuck me?” She tilted his head up to look at her, she could see the inner turmoil in his eyes, “Right now it's just you and me,” he leaned his forehead against her stomach, “And I really want to feel you inside of me,”

He clenched his jaw as he stood, kissing up her body as he went. He slipped off his shirt, loosened his belt and dropped his shorts to the floor. She couldn’t help but look at his muscular frame and proud chest. She gulped at the heavy hanging shaft between his legs, far too large to ever stand on its own.

“There's a lot to get inside of you…” he warned the obvious now. He led her to the back of the love seat, perching her ass on the top of the back of it, putting her at the perfect height for him to penetrate easily.

Her breath quickened as he used her juices to slicken his shaft, directing it into her slowly.

“Holy FUCK…” she hissed, trying to keep her voice low, but found it nearly impossible as he continued to fill her. She pressed her palm against his torso and he paused, another third left to go.

“Ever had one this big, baby?” He puffed his chest a little, knowing it was unlikely.

She shook her head, her breathing shaky as he withdrew and slid back in slowly. Her eyes rolled back as he thrusted gently and slowly.

“Never that big…” She murmured, balancing precariously on the edge, her legs spread wide around him.

“Fuck…this pussy feels so damn good….” his legs trembled with restraint as he quickened his thrusts, hoping to sneak another inch or two inside of her.

“Kev…it's…it's too…” She bit her lip to keep herself from talking, flirting with the edge of her pleasure threshold.

“Am I too big for you, baby?” He hummed at her, seeing in her face that she wanted it all even if she couldn't handle it. He held her hips, harshening his thrusts now, letting out the frustration that had been building all night.

He knew other people could hear her whimpered moans, but his generous tip bought him more privileges than them.

“Yes…” she gasped, “but, don't stop,” she begged, breathless.

He still had a couple of inches to force into her, but he waited, thrusting rapidly now into her once again, freshly soaked pussy.

“Cum on my cock like a good little girl, that's it, squirt all over me you dirty little whore,” when she did exactly as told, he knew dirty talk was her trigger. As her orgasm subsided, he slipped out of her completely, much to the protest in her expression. He stroked his slick cock quickly.

“Bend over like a good little slut,” He commanded, aroused by the visual of her bent over the couch in her white heels and nothing else. He stepped behind her and slipped in his entire length, trapping her between him and the couch she had nowhere to escape.

Brooklyn covered her mouth, but her pussy ached in the best way. Kevin's hands held her shoulders as he rocked her with powerful, deliberate thrusts. He felt all his frustrations melting away as she begged for him to fuck her harder.

He lifted one of her legs over the back of the couch, drilling her deeper still and feeling her shake with an earth-shattering orgasm that made her pussy grip his dick tightly. She groaned primally as he knew he was fucking her to the edge of consciousness.

Brooklyn could hardly manage his invasion into her body. His cock slid deeper and deeper inside of her inching past what she thought she could handle. His large gripping hands held her captive though she didn’t want to escape this welcome torture.

“I wanna feel you cum,” She begged, not caring who, if anyone, heard her on the other side of the curtain, “please cum in me, Kev…”

He groaned at the request, his logic knowing better, but it was drowned out by the drive of his sexual prowess.

“You want my cum? You want it in that slutty cunt? I'll give it to you baby,” he pressed his hand in the small of her back, burying his large cock to the hilt and forcing his cum deeper within her womb than anyone had ever before.

“Kev!” She moaned his name loudly as his cock penetrated her deeply and spilled stream after stream of his stored seed, filling her tunnel until it seeped out and dripped on his balls.

She tried to catch her breath, her body at it's limit as her muscles trembled. She nearly came at the movement of Kevin slowly withdrawing, managing an airy laugh as she slowly lowered her nearly cramping leg. She turned, leaning against the couch, still out of breath as she looked up at Kevin who was in a similar state.

“I don't really think those things about you-” he started, but Brooklyn stopped him.

“I know…I know…it was just talk,” She offered an understanding smile. She laughed again as her leg momentarily spasmed, “I might need.. something…” She looked around, knowing he'd left a hefty deposit behind.

He reached for a stack of folded cloth napkins and flicked on open, parting her legs a little. She reached for the napkin, but he held it firmly. She gasped a little as he ran it slowly up her now delicately sensitive slit.

“You don't have to…” She gasped again as he passed back over.

“It's the least I could do…it is my mess after all…” He seemed to have found his generous side. If this is what she had to do to earn his kindness, she wished they'd done this much earlier.

Her panties were nearly soaked and she laid them to the side as she slipped on the white under dress and shimmied the lace over it. There was something oddly intimate about watching her redress.

“So much for these…” She murmured at the cold, damp satin, looking around hopefully for a trashcan.

“Do you mind,” Kevin stepped up only in his shorts as he buckled his belt, “if I have them?” His eyes were trained on the ball of green fabric.

Brooklyn couldn’t believe the surge of confidence and arousal she felt at the idea of Kevin coveting her panties secretly. She was glad she had changed into a cute, sexier pair… At least for his sake.

“I don't mind at all,” She handed them over to his open and waiting palm.

He poured them each another glass of champagne and she downed it quickly, her thirst demanding hydration. He made a mental note to stop and get her water or something.

She was embarrassed as she thought of walking out in front of all the people in the club, knowing they had probably heard everything.

“Trust me, I took care of it…” Kevin tried to calm her as he slipped his shirt back on and fixed his hair.

It was the first time he'd said ‘trust me’ and meant it without sarcasm. Maybe Scott knew what he was talking about all along. She took Kevin’s outstretched hand and crept from behind the curtain, using his frame as a shield. But the room was empty, save for a few workers who didn't even look their way.

The ride back was quiet, but comfortable as they listened to the Keith Sweat album he selected. When he didn't have to shift, he rested his large hand on her thigh and she didn't seem to mind. She smirked at the glovebox occasionally, knowing the green satin that was concealed inside.

It was late by the time he pulled up in Scott's driveway, welllllll after midnight. But the porch light was on and through the glass surround of the door, she could see the glow of the den TV. Scott was still awake.

She started to get out, but Kevin locked the doors, walking around to her side. She rolled her eyes, but did so smiling this time as he opened her door.

On the porch she turned to tell him goodnight, but he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep, intense kiss. She held onto his shoulders for balance, left unstable at first when he parted.

“I had a great time…I'm glad we did this. “ He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, “Scott's lucky he found you,”

“I'm the lucky one, Kevin. He makes me really happy,” She looked towards the door smiling, “I'd do anything for him,”

“Believe me…I know you would,” Kevin chuckled, nodding towards the door, “Get inside before I get any other ideas,”

Brooklyn leaned up and kissed his cheek, “G'night Kev,” She said softly before going inside.

Kevin felt a sense of relief and clarity as he drove away. He'd been skeptical of the whole idea, but he had to admit, Scott might have known exactly what he was talking about.

#kevin nash #kevin nash fan fiction #kevin nash fanfic #kevin nash fan fic #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling #scott hall #wwe #wcw #wrestling fan fic #smut #smutty smutness

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casspurrjoybell-28 · 10 months

Text

The Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 10a

*Warning Adult Content*

School - Part 1 - Kao

I will admit, I may have been a tad too extreme with Cyrus.

I shouldn't have lashed out like that when he's the only reason Oliver and I are being provided with shelter and food.

The days following that particular... incident, I've been on edge, waiting for the call for us to be kicked out.

Without a doubt, there are always severe consequences for disrespecting alphas.

I don't know how a week of that not occurring made me forget.

They have power, something I can't afford to disregard.

Even if omegas seem to have better standing and more freedom here, the stronger gender is always in charge at the end of the day.

But surprisingly, there's no word from Cyrus.

It's like he's disappeared off the face of the earth.

I feel something nagging me in the back of my mind, almost like a feeling of... guilt.

"Koa? Earth to Koa?" a dainty hand waves in my face and I'm jerked out of my thoughts.

I turn to Morgan, who I'm sitting with in the Pack House dining area.

There are only a few other people here, so I'm pretty at ease.

Oliver's across the room conversing with a cute little omega girl.

"Sorry," I shake my head, grateful for the distraction to take my mind off Cyrus.

"It's alright. I was just asking if there was anything you wanted to talk about. You look troubled."

Morgan frowns at me through his silver-rimmed glasses that perfectly complement his gray coat.

"What..." I start, wondering if the question sounds weird,

"What do you know about Cyrus?"

Why the hell did I just ask that?

Wasn't I trying to not think about him?

Morgan's eyebrows shoot up, a grin erupting on his face and I know I've definitely made a mistake.

"You're curious about him, aren't you?" he asks, a teasing lilt in his tone.

"Of course I'm not," I deny, hoping the flush of my cheeks doesn't give me away.

"Well, if you really want to know, why don't you talk to him yourself?"

"We're not exactly on talking terms. I... don't think we ever have been. I barely know the guy."

"But he's your mate. You'll have to know him sooner or later," Morgan remarks cheerfully as I gape at him.

"How do you know that?"

"When our Pack Alpha comes back from a mission looking completely starstruck with a gorgeous Omega at his side, I'm going to assume things. I'm sure others are too, even if there's been no public announcement yet."

"Oh... that makes sense. Thanks," I feel shy at the indirect compliment, not used to the attention coming from non-Alphas.

And the kind manner in which Morgan says it is a nice change to being called sexy as my face is shoved into a pillow by some Alpha I don't know the name of.

But anyhow, guess it's obvious to the citizens of this pack what I'm here for.

And I'm not quite sure what that means for me here.

I don't imagine I have the best reputation right now, being an outsider with a child 'stealing' away their Alpha.

Not that I plan to do that... it's never happening.

"Don't feel pressured, Koa. By any of this. We're all here to look out for you. You're like family now."

'Family.'

That word is so strange to me.

I've only had Oliver, for the longest time.

Before that, Des was my only real family.

My parents definitely don't count.

They couldn't care less for an Omega child.

They expelled me from their lives when I turned ten, deeming me old enough to face the world on my own.

It was Des and his father who took me in then.

But his father died of sickness three years later and the only place we could stay after that was the Pack Hous,,, -in return for our constant labor, of course.

I remember curling up together on those cold nights, holding each other for warmth.

It all seems so far away now.

Oliver is my present.

He's all that matters.

Des is gone and Cyrus is... I don't know what because calling him my mate still doesn't sit right with me.

The Moon Goddess can't give me a break, I've determined.

I can only smile and nod back, not quite believing his statement.

"Mama," Oliver calls, running over to us holding the hand of the girl.

"Mama. I wanna go to school with Flora. She said it's really fun."

"Well hello, you two."

Morgan stands up from his chair, kneeling down to him.

"School?" I question. "I don't know..."

"I'm a teacher there, Koa. Why don't I show you two around today before you decide?"

Morgan's eyes are large and hopeful and I can't find it in me to say no.

Especially when I haven't seen Oliver look this excited in ages.

"You didn't tell me he would be here."

I peer out of the second-story window of the schoolhouse down at the lawn, spotting a crowd of children surrounding Cyrus, flanked by Xavier and Lonnie.

"It is his pack, hun," Morgan giggles "You'll have to see him eventually."

"Cyrus is so cool," Oliver cheers, dressed in the school uniform he begged me to try on.

It's lavender and sage green, easy on the eyes but bright enough to be able to keep an eye on all the pups.

I was unsure about this whole school thing at first but it may be growing on me.

Oliver has never had the chance to learn to read and write or practice maths.

All his existing knowledge revolves around navigating the toxic hierarchy of the Blood Pack.

He deserves to have a mind filled with far more interesting and wonderful things.

"Your mama doesn't seem to think so," Morgan teases, writing something down on a piece of parchment.

I roll my eyes.

"What's he even doing here?"

"He likes to be involved in the community. Every once in a while he'll come for an afternoon to play with the pups and answer all their questions. They love it."

"I want to go down there," Oliver pulls on my shirt, urging me with a pleading look on his face.

"Oh, fine."

Oliver practically pulls me down the stairs, Morgan following behind as we make our way to the group of yapping pups.

My son spots the girl from earlier, Flora and squeals, rushing over to her.

'Joy.' Joy is emanating from everywhere in this school.

Omegas, Betas and Alphas alike make up the students.

In the Blood Pack, only Alphas or Betas could study.

I had to learn at home on my own but even that was discouraged.

They wanted us dumbed down so we wouldn't fight back.

It's crazy to me how none of that sentiment is present here.

The pups are all friends. They're so happy.

I watch as Cyrus lifts a girl up into his arms, making her laugh with something he says.

"See? It will be good for Oliver here. It's safe. You have my word," Morgan says.

It's not that I don't believe him, it's that I don't want to let my little boy go.

There's no denying that I am extremely overprotective but I'm also attached to him.

I won't be used to him not always being around.

But I guess he's growing up.

He can't hold my hand forever.

As I watch Cyrus kneel down to talk to the pups at eye level, I can't help but smile.

It's funny to see such a huge, menacing-looking Alpha like him next to the tiny pups.

But they aren't scared of him.

Not one bit.

Morgan follows my line of sight, smirking.

"He's good with kids, no?"

"I suppose," I reply reluctantly.

"Oliver seems to like him, too."

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"And what exactly are you trying to say?"

The man shrugs.

"Maybe that you should give him a chance?"

I scoff, shaking my head.

"It's not that easy, Morgan. There are so many reasons why... why I can't."

I look down, unwanted flashbacks of the past flitting through my mind.

What they did to me. The Alphas.

I'm usually good at pushing it all down, hiding that trauma away.

But when I'm being asked to entertain the idea of letting an Alpha into my life again, it's so hard not to recall the horrors I went through because of their kind. Cyrus' kind.

And I can't ever go through that again.

The mood becomes awkward, Morgan fiddling with his hands.

"I'm sorry. I've overstepped."

"You're fine."

I shrug, pretending it's nothing.

He eventually has to go talk to the other teachers, so I'm left standing there, not knowing what to do.

I look around, observing the facility and taking in the beauty of the nature surrounding it.

That's when I feel it. His gaze on me.

And while I know I shouldn't, I look.

Ice-blue eyes meet mine and my chest twinges, a strange feeling coursing through me.

My heart is thudding hard at the sight of him, my palms sweaty.

Stupid mate bond.

I can't stand the way he's looking at me but I don't break eye-contact.

It's like he's trying to communicate something, an anguished look in his eyes.

And that's when I know what it means.

'Forgive me. Talk to me'.

I can see it all written out on his face and I curse it because a small part of me says to give him what he wants.

But I know better.

I have to stand firm, stick to what I usually do and listen to my head instead of my heart.

I turn away, heading back inside to wait the remainder of the school day in there before those eyes of his get the best of me.

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keepmxvingfxrward · 4 years

Text

Open Starter: These Little Wonders Still Remain

“Our lives are made, in these small hours...” he’s murmuring to himself, pausing and wrinkling his nose. “--these small hours,” he tries again, starting to play with the notes, shaking his head.

Getting up, he walks over to his desk, or, more specifically, a screen propped up on it, waving his hand over it to turn it on. Once the screen lights up, he makes the motions like he’s swiping along on the screen, but he never actually touches it.

Pulling up a program, he clears his throat. “--these small hours,” he tries his notes carefully, and the program pauses before matching on the guitar. He shakes his head. “Erase that clip.”

Before he can try again, though, he turns at a creak in his doorway, smiling. “Hi there. How can I help you?”

#and if you're looking for trouble then count me in: oliver #bring on the real world: open starter

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nxtmyweird · 4 years

Text

Septuple Solo Para: I’m Awake and I’m Alive

She finds Nancy sitting on top a table in the library.

Sylvia sighs and reaches out a hand to her closest friend, shivering slightly when she slips into her nightmare. Finding herself in the Jones family home. “Nance? Nancy.”

Hearing a soft whimper, her head turns and she sighs softly. Nancy had a lofted bed that she hung curtains off of to hide her computer and workspace from the world from. Usually, she kept them pulled back... unless she needed to cry.

Walking over, she pulls back the curtains, seeing Nancy curled up under her desk. “Hey. Hey, little one. What is it, what happened?”

Nancy sobs, peaking up from where her head was curled up against her knees and launching over, hugging her. “Dad and-- and Mama Daphne said-- said I wasn’t any good, that I was letting them down and letting my mom down and-- and-- and--”

Sylvia sighs and gently runs her fingers through Nancy’s hair, shaking her head. “Hey, hey, that’s not true, okay?”

“B-b-but, but--”

“Shh, no. No buts, Nancy Kate Jones. You’re one of the best in the business. People request you by name and for good reason. You know your stuff and you know what you’re doing. You know that, and I know that. And your dad and Daphne know that, too.”

“But they said, they said--”

“You’re dreaming, little one,” Sylvia brushes some of her hair back up, wiping her tears gently. “You’re just having a nightmare. There’s another evil takeover in Auradon, whoever started it cast a sleeping curse over everyone that’s been trapping them in their nightmares. It’s just a bad dream, and I’m here to help you wake up.”

Nancy sniffles, lip quivering. “How?”

“You just need to face your fears, little one. You’re just scared your dad and Daphne don’t think you’re enough but you know they do, they think you’re more than enough, and they’re so proud of you, aren’t they?”

Nancy sniffles, trembling against her, her lip quivering.

“Your dad helped you build those shelves you keep all your trophies from your cases on, right?”

Nancy sniffles and nods.

“He wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t proud of your accomplishments, little one. It’s okay, Nance, we all know how good you are.”

Nancy sniffles, but nods slowly...

And in a blink she’s in the library as Nancy sits up, rubbing her neck... turning to Sylvia and hugging her tightly with a sniffle. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We gotta find the others. Where would Sammy be?”

And that’s how they find themselves heading for Sammy’s room, and Sylvia tries the door. “It’s locked.”

“Not for long,” Nancy answers, getting into her bag and grabbing her lockpicking set.

In a moment, the two are in, finding Sammy asleep with part of her closet on her bed. Coordinating that week’s outfits, of course. Sylvia sighs, walking over and brushing Sammy’s hair from her face...

Finding herself... once again in Sammy’s room, but without the closet spread on her bed. Turning to Sammy’s makeshift vanity, Sylvia suppresses a laugh. Of course it’s something like this. “Hey, bug.”

Sammy whips around, tears rolling down her face and trying to cover her head. “No, no, don’t look at me, it’s awful!”

“Sammy,” Sylvia can’t help the chuckle that escapes her. “It’s not that bad.”

“It is!” Sammy whines. “Nothing is working on it!! Sylvia, it’s awful. I can’t do it!”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re just having a nightmare.” Walking over, Sylvia picks up a hair brush from Sammy’s vanity and pulls up a chair, brushing it for the sake of keeping her hands busy more than for the sake of trying to fix anything. “Someone cast a sleeping curse over Auradon. It’s just a bad dream, bug, not a real bad hair day. I promise.”

Sammy sniffles, peaking at her in the mirror. “...yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sylvia chuckles softly. “Your hair is fine. It’s just a bad dream. Everyone’s been trapped in their worst nightmares, from what I’ve seen. The only way to wake up has been to face them, or internalize that things aren’t as bad as they seem or you’ve imagined.”

“...how many of these have you seen?”

“A few. I woke up my friends Sam and Melinda, and Lillian of all people, then I got Nancy and we came to find you.”

“...this is just embarrassing for me, isn’t it?”

“A little,” Sylvia chuckles. “It’s okay, bug. I kinda had it figured your nightmare might be something along these lines.”

Reaching out, she boops Sammy’s nose, making her laugh weakly. Smiling, Sylvia sighs, getting the mess of red hair to lay flat at least. “So. Facing your nightmare.”

“...wait,” Sammy pouts, picking up a hat off her vanity and pulling it on, which only barely covers the damage. She frowns in the mirror... but sighs, nodding, grabbing her bag and forcing herself out the door...

Sylvia blinks and smiles, finishing brushing Sammy’s hair back from her face as the girl wakes up, mumbling, rubbing her eyes.

“Tell no one,” she warns, and Sylvia nods with a laugh, smiling.

“C’mon, bug. We’ve got some friends to find.”

In the garage, if it weren’t for the sleeping curse, Sylvia would have a hard time believing anyone was asleep. Lily had been blasting rock music and was sound asleep in front of her toolbox-- probably grabbing something when the curse hit.

Sylvia walks over and kneels down gently, reaching up and grabbing her shoulder...

She’s... in a park? Sylvia turns and finds Lily sitting blankly on the swings. Going over, she drops into the swing beside her. “Hiya.”

Lily looks up and looks at her, and that’s how Sylvia sees that the girl has definitely been crying, though she isn’t now, and just looks... angry, which is normal. “Mind telling me what’s going on? Where are we, peanut?”

There’s a pause as Lily eyeballs her before sighing. “Park near my house. No one really uses it at this hour.”

“Why are we here?” Sylvia cocks her head.

“My stepmother kicked me out of the house,” Lily looks away from her and chucks the pebble she’d picked up at the dirt. “I don’t know what’s going on. She just went off on me about how terrible and ungrateful I am and threw me out. Said I’ll never see my dad again.”

Sylvia nods. “Well, peanut, the good news is, this is a nightmare. It’s not real. You’re in a sleeping curse. The bad news is, I’m not sure which part you’re actually afraid of, because the way to wake up is to face your fears.”

Lily looks at her, raising an eyebrow. Sylvia nods. Lily sighs and shrugs. “Well, isn’t it obvious? It’s about Audrey being evil, how’m I supposed to face that?”

“Well, yes and no,” Sylvia shakes her head. “I know you pretty well, Lily, and I... don’t think you’re actually scared of Audrey being evil. I think you’d find that easier, because then hating her makes sense.”

“What else would it be?” Lily snarks.

“You’re afraid of losing your dad,” Sylvia answers simply. “He’s your entire life, anybody who knows you knows that. You’re... peanut, you wanna be scared of your stepmother being evil, but that’s not what bothers you about her. You just wanna know she’s not gonna take your dad from you.”

Lily sniffles, tearing up again. “Shut up-- no! No, it’s just her being evil, it’s just my stepmother being a real monster, it’s--”

“Aw, Lily,” Sylvia reaches out, pulling their swings together just to hug her. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Lily sniffles, burrowing into her. “I just don’t know where I’d be without him, I don’t know what I’d do, I-- I--”

“Shh, I know, I know. But listen to me. You know no one’s going to take him from you, right? Not even her. She’s been in your life for, what, 15 years now? Peanut, you have every right to choose not to like her, but I just need you to know she’s never gonna take him from you. Your dad wouldn’t let her. You’re as much his world as he is yours. He’ll never ever leave you. Okay? He’ll leave her before he leaves you.”

Lily sniffles, nodding, crying harder...

And Sylvia blinks, registering the loud rock music again and wincing, smiling as Lily wakes up, though.

Sammy skids over and hugs her best friend, and Lily sniffles, clearing her throat, laughing. “You don’t wanna do that, I was working before I passed out, I’m probably greasy.”

“I don’t care,” Sammy says, hugging her.

Sylvia smiles softly, and then addresses Lily. “Can you keep these two safe? I gotta find the others.

“Aye, I can do that,” Lily nods, motioning Nancy over. “Keep in touch, let us know if you’re in danger.”

“Will do,” Sylvia smiles and hurries out of the garage.

Sylvia finds Grayson in the cafeteria. Probably looking for a snack to get through his studying, knowing him. She sighs as she reaches out to him...

And is surprised to find herself in what she assumes must be his family home, heading for-- “WHAT are you DOING?”

Grayson yelps, looking back from the old portal to the ghost zone and blinking. “Sylvia? How did you find me?”

“You’re asleep, pumpkin, you’re having a nightmare, you’re still on campus at Auradon Pr-- no, you don’t get to distract me right now, what are you about to do?” Sylvia grabs his arm and pulls him away.

“Nightmare?” He bites his lip. “...promise?”

“I promise,” Sylvia squeezes his hands. “Did you see the sky go dark before whatever happened to you happened?”

He nods. She nods. “Someone cast a sleeping curse over Auradon. I opened my eyes and found myself at the kitchen counter of my family home like Auradon didn’t exist. You’re just having a nightmare, pumpkin, but I ask again, what the hell were you doing?”

Grayson sniffles and rubs his eyes, pulling uncomfortably at the suit his grandparents had made him to explore the ghost zone. “I... I thought my ghost side was... gone. I couldn’t go ghost and-- and you guys all left me, and my dad gave up on me and stopped spending time with me and my grandparents didn’t care about me anymore and--”

He sniffles, motioning to the ghost zone. “I thought if I stepped through I might... might end up like dad. More half-dead than quarter-dead but... but then everyone would... would come back...”

Sylvia sighs and hugs him tightly. “Aw, pumpkin. You know we don’t care about that, right? Not us, not the Clue Crew. You’re ours, we don’t care at all about that, you’re still our friend and a great detective even without being part-ghost.”

“...yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sylvia smiles at him. “And your parents don’t care. They don’t. You have to remember how much of a miracle it is that someone who’s half-dead could even conceive. There’s no way they would love you any less if you lost your ghost powers. Your mom’s not part-ghost, did she have any trouble helping your dad?”

He shakes his head. She nods with a smile. “Exactly. No one cares about the ghost aspect. We love you, pumpkin, as you are.”

He nods, hugging her tightly...

...and blinks slowly reaching back to the back of his head as he sits up. Sylvia pulls back and smiles. “You okay?”

“I think I hit my head,” he admits... before turning to his shadowy form and back again, smiling. “But I’m okay.”

Sylvia nods, helping him up. “Still gotta find Heather and Oliver.”

“I think I know where Heather is,” he says, and she nods, motioning for him to lead the way.

And, he’s right, they find Heather asleep by her locker with the door open. Thank god WOOHP hadn’t gone looking for her. Sylvia sighs and kneels down, gently brushing Heather’s hand out of her face...

...blinking in confusion as she looks around the unfamiliar bedroom. Hearing rustling in the closet, she steps over to it but it opens quickly before she has the chance to open it herself, finding Heather in a frenzy as she slings a bag over her shoulder. “Sylvia? Nevermind, we gotta go, like, now--” the blonde grabs her arm and drags her to the window.

“Heather, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on is I lost my clearance, and we gotta go before WOOHP catches up with me to erase my memories, Sylvia, please, c’mon!” Heather opens her window and half climbs out it.

Sylvia sighs as she follows after her. “Oh, baby, you’re okay--”

“Not for long!”

“No, I mean-- this isn’t real. Heather, you’re having a nightmare. Someone cast a sleeping curse over Auradon--”

“Explain on the run!” Heather grabs her arm and pulls her out the window, running over to her car. Sylvia sighs and follows after her.

As they’re heading down the road, Heather holds up a hand. “Okay, so like, you say this isn’t real?”

“About as real as me waking up at the kitchen counter at home and finding Auradon didn’t exist, yeah. You’re asleep, baby, this isn’t real.”

“Okay, but like-- but like, what if, like, you’re wrong? I can’t, I totally just, this is my life, I can’t just, like, let it go.”

“Heather, baby, I promise. I found you asleep in front of your locker with Grayson, and when I grabbed your arm, I found myself in your dream. You’re asleep, you really are,” she sighs. “You have to face your fears to wake up. So you’re afraid of losing your clearance, losing your memories of your spy work?”

“Yeah...” She sniffles. “I love being a spy, I love how things are, I know that’s stupid but it’s just-- it’s like, really fun and I just, like, if I’m not that then I’m just...”

“Another dumb blonde,” Sylvia realizes, and Heather nods, sniffling, crying. “Baby, pull over. I don’t wanna find out if we can get hurt in dreams like this.”

Heather sniffles but nods and complies, pulling off to the side of the road and sobbing. “Sylvia, I’m scared. I don’t wanna just be some ditz from Beverly Hills like everyone thinks. I’m so much more but like, if this happens...”

Sylvia sighs, reaching over and playing with her hair. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I know, you’re scared, but you know something? You are so much smarter than you realize, even without the spy stuff. You know what? That’s just like Sammy. She’s not a detective, she’s not some kickass badass fighter. She’s just a diva, and we love her, and we love you. You are more than a spy, Heather, you always have been, I promise.”

Heather sniffles, shaking her head. “But-- but-- but, I’m not, I’m--”

Sylvia sighs, rubbing her arm. “Shh, you are, you always have been. You haven’t always been a spy, but you’ve always been Heather, and you are loved just as Heather. You can still be so much even if you weren’t a spy. I know you could be, because I know you, Heather. I know you.”

Heather sniffles, sobbing leaning over to hug her...

And Sylvia smiles down at the girl as she wakes up in front of her locker, sitting up, blinking and rubbing her eyes. “Like, ow.”

“Yeah, figures,” Sylvia chuckles, helping her up.

“Ohmygod, like, Sammy--”

“Actually, she’s okay. I woke Sammy, Nancy, and Lily, and they’re in the garage. We’re gonna get Oliver and head to join them and come up with something, okay?” Sylvia smiles.

Heather sighs and nods as Grayson helps her up, taking deep breaths. “Okay. So, like, let’s do this.”

Oliver is shockingly difficult to find, but when they manage to locate them, Sylvia chuckles softly, seeing they’d fallen asleep replaying a certain song. Of course. Walking over, she gently sets a hand on their shoulder.

Oh. Oh this is... yeah, she’d call this one a nightmare. “What in the hell?”

Someone grabs her arm and pulls her down. Sylvia squeaks and looks over at... “Oliver? Jinkies, sunshine, you scared me. What’s going on?”

“You should be scared,” is all he mutters, looking up and watching the sky. “I don’t know what happened, but someone altered history again, and someone went against my grandpa’s wishes.”

“What do you mean?” Sylvia sighs. Easier to resolve a fear if she strikes at the core of it, unfortunately.

“It’s complicated--? Come on,” and Oliver pulls her along quickly to an alleyway. “So, my grandfather, in one version of the timeline, created a robotic bowler hat that was supposed to help someone get ready in the mornings, but, the original variant became... sentient, and evil. DOR15 was supposed to be shut down and locked up as another failure, but... wasn’t off, and escaped. She planned to destroy my grandfather for abandoning her, humanity for existing and my family just to make my grandpa suffer, but... when he was a kid, my dad went back in time, found my grandpa as a kid, brought him back to fix things, and... eventually, my grandpa as a kid, vowed to never invent the hat and fixed the timeline entirely. DOR15′s evil plans never came to be, which meant my family was spared from her mind control based wrath. Except. Somehow. The timeline was altered again. And this is the result.”

He pulls her into a very abandoned looking building. Probably condemned, if she had to guess. “How did you escape? Are you okay?”

“Well... that’s just it,” Sylvia sighs. “This isn’t real. You’re asleep, you’re having a nightmare. Auradon’s under a sleeping curse, sunshine, I promise this isn’t real.”

Oliver blinks, looking at her, then at the door, shaking his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Hey, sunshine, it’s me,” Sylvia takes his hand. “It’s me. I promise. You’re just asleep. Everything’s fine-- well, evil takeover, sleeping curse, everyone’s trapped in their nightmares-- but everything’s fine. This isn’t real.” She shakes her head softly as she says that, smiling at him.

They bite their lip and look at the door again. Reaching up, Sylvia turns their head away. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You just want your family to be okay, right? I know, I know. But I promise you it’s just a nightmare. It’s not real, your family is fine. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

They sniffle and hug her tightly. Sylvia smiles, hugging them back, rubbing their back. “Come on, realistically, who’s ever gonna look at your grandpa’s story and try to make that hat again? Who’s ever gonna take that story and go, ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine, I can do it and this won’t happen’? Nobody, sunshine, nobody is gonna do that, is gonna do this. I promise. I promise.”

Oliver sighs, nodding slowly, smiling weakly...

...Sylvia chuckles when they jolt awake. “Morning. Well, afternoon. If you can even believe that. C’mon, we’d better get back to the garage. Nancy, Sammy, and Lily are already there. We’ll work something out from th--”

“Eretria,” he interrupts, looking around between the three and shaking his head anxiously. “No, no, I gotta-- I gotta wake Eretria first. I’ll meet you, okay? The garage? I’ll meet you. Go on back, I’ll be there, just go.” He gets his stuff together quickly.

“Oliver--” Sylvia starts.

“Go! I’ll join you, it’ll be fine,” they smile at their friends before heading out abruptly.

Sylvia sighs, flinging a hand at the door, shaking her head. Heather rubs her shoulders. “He’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, it’s Oliver,” Grayson agrees. “They’ll probably come back with snacks and half a dozen unfinished plans they borrowed from their sister. C’mon, we should meet up with the girls.”

Sylvia sighs and nods, worried.

#never give up; never back down: sylvia #man! i feel like a woman: sammy #amateur detective: nancy #so totally fabulous: heather #like my father does: lily #and if you're looking for trouble then count me in: oliver #brotp: the clue crew #face of an angel; heart of a ghost: grayson #on assignment: solo para #event: nightmare / celena

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its-lxcked · 4 years

Text

Septuple Solo Para: Well, Gang...

“Sammy, I mean it, I don’t care that we’re in Auradon. There’s no way in hell you’re gonna convince me a place is really haunted,” Sylvia is saying as Nancy walks over to sit with them at lunch.

“Look, I’m just sharing the rumor. Oh, hang on-- Heather!! Over here!!” Sammy waves to her new friend, gesturing to the seat she’d saved, smiling at her sister as well. “Hey, Nance. I was just telling Sylvia about the thing I texted you about.”

“The haunted, condemned house?” Nancy asks, because Sammy texts her about literally everything.

“Like, the what?” Heather asks as she sits down with Sammy, before remembering her manners. “Oh, right, like, I’m Heather, so totally nice to meet you. What’s up with the haunted house?”

“Nancy, Sam’s older sister, and that’s Sylvia. Sylvia and I are part-time amateur detectives, so when thinks get wonky, they usually get swung our way.” Nancy nods a bit with a half-hearted wave with a soda in her hand, before taking a swig.

“She’s also leaving out that neither of us believe in ghosts,” Sylvia adds on.

A tall boy walking by catches himself and staggers backwards at that comment. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear. You don’t believe in ghosts?”

“Uh, no, I really don’t,” Sylvia shrugs. “It’s always someone faking terrifying stuff just to keep nosy people away or to get insurance money for something. At the end of the day, Nancy and I unmask the bad guys and they go to jail.”

“Well, that’s not very fun. Mind if I pull up a seat?” He’s asking, but he swings his legs around a seat anyways with the girls. “I’m Grayson Fenton. 1/4 ghost myself.”

Nancy chokes on her soda, coughing for a moment. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a story, but the long story short is that an accident in my ghost-obsessed grandparents’ lab half-killed my dad. He and I can both transform between a solid form and...”

Grayson suddenly turns into a shadowy figure of himself, reaching out and passing his arm through the table before switching back and bringing his arm back up to rest on the table. “...well, my dad’s ghost form looks more humanoid than mine does, but you get the picture. Our job is to keep ghosts from wreaking havoc on the mortal world by making sure they stay confined to the ghost zone.”

Sylvia is sitting there, open-mouthed and looking completely and utterly horrified. Finally, finally, she chokes out a simple, “What?”

Grayson shrugs as Lily sits down across from Sammy, reading the looks on the other four girls’ faces. “What happened?”

“He’s a ghost,” Sammy points to Grayson.

Lily pauses and shrugs. “That’s Auradon for you, I guess.”

“One-quarter,” Grayson corrects. “And my job is to catch actual ghosts. Our gear for that is more than a little... unconventional. Like, check this out.” He pulls his Fenton Thermos out of his backpack. “This actually is meant to pull in ghosts and trap them for later release in the ghost zone. I’m... obviously not in the position to demonstrate it, as the only nearby even slightly ghostly entity.”

“That’s ingenious inventing,” says a boy looking over Grayson’s shoulder, forgetting that boundaries are a thing.

Grayson jumps. “Whoa! Do you mind?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, my bad. Oliver Robinson,” is the response, extending his hand to Grayson.

“...Grayson Fenton,” he finally meets, shaking the other’s hand, glancing at the girls, who all shrug simultaneously.

Nancy nods to the last open seat at their table. “You’re welcome to join us, Oliver. We just go severely off topic. We were on the haunted house.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow as he sits down. “We were on the what now?”

“I’m with him, but you have my interest,” Lily offers, sitting up a bit.

“Oh, there’s this rumor about some super haunted building on the outskirts of the city, guess the building got condemned but they weren’t able to tear it down because something kept stopping them whenever they tried. The theory goes it was the house’s original builder and owner,” Sammy explains.

“Okay, no, yeah, I am definitely in camp ‘random homeless man living in a condemned space and trying to keep people from tearing down his home’,” Sylvia instantly says, before munching on a carrot stick.

“That’s just it, they can’t find any evidence at all that there’s anyone in the house,” Sammy says. “I just thought it was cool.”

Nancy shrugs a bit. “I mean, I haven’t had a good mystery in a while. Or adventure as a whole.”

“Told you should’ve come to Annapolis,” Sylvia grumbles under her breath.

“Like, what happened in Annapolis?” Heather looks at Sylvia innocently.

Sylvia chokes on her carrot stick, holding up a hand and coughing and sputtering for a minute. “Absolutely nothing major, but it was a change of scenery.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “What I’m trying to say is...”

...and that’s how, hours later, seven kids pile out of the van Sylvia had driven them over in, walking up the overgrown path as the sun sets behind them to an empty house.

“Okay, just because I brought it up doesn’t mean I wanted to tag along,” Sammy is grumbling a bit as Nancy passes out flashlights to the rest of them.

Heather nods. “Like, could we have at least come out here during the day?”

“Well, last I checked, we’re all going to school, so, not really, no,” Nancy points out. “C’mon, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Nonexistent,” Sammy points out, still grumbling as her sister pushes the flashlight into her hands.

“C’mon, it’ll be quick,” Grayson shrugs. “I have a ghost sense. I get a specific chill when there’s a ghost nearby. You’ll even be able to see my breath. Then after this I think we can pester Sylvia enough to stop for ice cream.”

Sylvia rolls her eyes, clicking her flashlight on and pushing on the front door, shining her light in as it creaks open, not locked. “Ooh, that’s a sign. I don’t like that.”

Though it does lean more towards her theory that someone’s been coming and going. She presses on in and the others follow after her, with Heather taking up the rear of the group and taking a moment as the others fan out inside to look back over her shoulder and around outside to make sure there’s no threats out there before she follows them in.

Lily holds up a stick she’d grabbed from outside on her way up to the porch, using it to gather up some cobwebs and pull them out of the way. “This place does look pretty empty, I have to say.”

“Huh, that’s odd,” Nancy’s saying from another corner, poking her head around the corner of a doorway and then looking back in.

“What’s odd?” Sammy jumps at every little creak and casts a panicked look to her sister.

“The proportions of the rooms here. Almost like...”

Oliver walks over, knocking against the wall Nancy’s staring at and getting back a hollow thunk. “Oh, definitely a hidden passageway. Welcome to Auradon, older builds are bound to have them.”

“Yeah, but that’s like, castles and stuff, isn’t it?” Heather looks curious.

“Well, there’s gotta be a way to open it from here,” Sylvia takes charge. “Fan out, start pulling on things, especially things that would normally look like solid fixtures on the wall.”

Grayson pauses, then swaps to his ghost form and walks through the wall. After a second, the wall slides open slowly, and Grayson shines his flashlight out at them, his hand pressed against a button on the wall. “...found the trigger.”

Nancy laughs. “Score! All the rewards, half the effort. I like you. Let’s go.”

Sylvia grumbles under her breath. Sammy shines her flashlight in and squeals. “Ew!!! Ew, ew, ew, I am absolutely not going in there!”

Nancy sighs. “Fine, then we’ll split up. I’ll take Grayson and Lily and we’ll see where the tunnel leads. The rest of you can search the rest of the house. Sound good?”

The others nod, and Sylvia immediately starts to the stairs as Nancy presses onward. Heather sighs and sets a hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “I totally get it, don’t worry. Thank you for saying something, I didn’t wanna look like a wuss in front of a bunch of people who don’t know me.”

Sammy shrugs and heads towards a door on her right, underneath the stairs. Heather follows after her as Oliver heads up after Sylvia.

Sylvia had found an old bedroom and was just about to walk out when her foot nudges a floorboard, popping it right off. Glancing down, she blinks at the sigh of a box inside, kneeling down and picking it up, opening it up and gasping in shock. “Jinkies!”

“What?” Oliver walks over, peering over her shoulder at the box and letting out a low whistle. “Woooooow.”

“So, what do you think is going to be at the end of this?” Grayson asks, from the back of the pack.

“Could just be an emergency exit from the house,” Lily says in the middle, shining her light along the walls.

“I doubt that, though,” Nancy says, hanging a right with the tunnel and coming to a set of stairs leading down. “Oh, I definitely doubt it now.”

Carefully, she presses her foot on the first step, testing her weight against it and then stepping down. “They seem safe.”

“That’s reassuring,” Lily remarks dryly, but follows behind her nonetheless.

At the bottom of the stairs, they come upon a locked door. Nancy glances to Grayson, who passes through the door but then comes right back. “Nope. That’s actually a really, really complicated looking lock on the other side. More like a puzzle than a lock.”

Nancy nods and gets into her bag, producing her lockpicking tools. “Then this calls for plan B.”

“So, how often do you do this stuff?” Lily asks as she keeps her light balanced on the lock when Nancy kneels to break in the old fashioned way.

“I’ve been on cases since I was a little kid. It’s fairly regular work, I guess. You’re the mechanic, right?”

“Aye, that’s me,” Lily notes with pride, smiling a bit. “Your sister speaks highly of you, y’know.”

“She talks about you a lot, too,” Nancy remarks, pausing when she hears a click. “There we go.”

Pushing the door open, she gasps. “Oh, my, god.”

Sammy sighs as she runs her fingers over the desk in the study she and Heather had found. “I know the place is condemned and stuff, but if Sylvia and Nance are right and the problem is just a squatter, you’d think they’d do a little better job cleaning up the place. This is just gross.”

“Hey, like, take a look at this,” Heather responds, turning around with a paper in her hands that she’d picked up from an end table beside an armchair. “These are, like, financial records. And they’re, like, recent, too. The name’s torn off.”

“What? Let me see,” Sammy walks over, taking the paper from her friend and reading over them by the light of her flashlight. “Yikes. Whoever these belong to, they’re not doing so well. Wonder how these got here.”

Both girls share a look when they hear some floorboards creak behind them. A hand on her shoulder causes Heather to whip around and deck the strange man who’d grabbed her, and Sammy screams.

Sylvia and Oliver’s heads shoot up at the scream downstairs, and Sylvia frantically shoves the box they’d found into her bag as they tear back downstairs to find the girls, discovering Heather holding down a guy who’s grumbling beneath her heel.

“Who the hell are you?!” Sylvia snaps, now very suspicious given what she and Oliver found upstairs. He glares at them and doesn’t answer. Sylvia rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna see if I can get reception outside.”

“No need,” Oliver says, holding up a finger.

“Do you have cell service in here?” Sylvia raises an eyebrow.

“No, but I’m a Robinson. I don’t need cell service.” They come back with a small metal sphere from their pocket, hitting some buttons on the screen part and causing it to let out a soft, steady beep. “My dad’ll pick up on that and call the police and give them our location. We should check on the others, though. We can’t be sure this guy’s alone.”

“I’ve got him contained,” Heather says, pressing her heel into his back further to drive the point home. “Go.”

Sylvia and Oliver nod, and Oliver hands the small ball to Sammy before he and Sylvia head back to the secret passageway.

Nancy stares in shock at the bodies before them. Probably other people like the kids, nosy about the alleged haunting, who got too close to something. Though she’s not sure how to judge what would be considered “too close”. Grayson stays back in the doorway to make sure no one can sneak up on them from the tunnel or shut them in, but she and Lily press onward into the room. “I...”

“Nancy, I’m not the detective, but I don’t think that all of these bodies have come from just the past few months since the building was condemned,” Lily murmurs.

Nancy looks over to where Lily’s pointing her flashlight, at the skeletized remains beyond the first three they’d seen upon walking in. “I think you’re right.”

“We need to get out of here,” Lily says. “Before we’re next.”

“I concur with that one,” Grayson says from the door, but then looks up. “Someone’s coming.”

The girls look up and rush to join him at the doorway, relaxing when they see the two people who descend the stairs. Sylvia sighs. “Hey, there you guys are. Everyone okay?”

“We are. What happened up there?”

“Some guy tried to attack Heather and Sammy. Not sure exactly what happened, but Heather had him ground with a foot against his back. We came down here to get you. What’s in there?” Sylvia stretches up on her toes to peer over.

“We need to get back up there. NOW.” Nancy says, shoving through the group and taking the stairs two at a time back up the tunnel.

Oliver’s about to ask questions when he sees the bodies at the same moment as Sylvia, the two taking off after Nancy with Lily on their heels. Grayson glances back one last time before going ghost and shooting straight back up into the main house and then follows the sounds of a scuffle to find Sammy and Heather, Heather grappling with the girls’ would-be assailant.

As the others skid in, Sylvia draws her taser, trying to get a good lock on the guy. Heather seems to notice this and flips them into a position that only seems unfavorable to her for a moment. Sylvia nods and fires, locking the guy up and givine Heather a shot to properly restrain him.

Sammy still looks entirely stressed out. “This is why I hate the mystery business.”

“Okay, what is going on around here?” Oliver asks, not noticing Nancy over at the desk.

“That’s an excellent question, kid,” comes a voice, and the seven look over at the new person in the door. He holds up a badge. “Auradon PD. We got a call from one Wilbur Robinson regarding his son and some kind of emergency beacon?”

“That’d be me,” Oliver holds up his hand, reaching out and reclaiming the beacon from Sammy to deactivate it. “Oliver Robinson. I alerted my dad to our location when we caught this guy after he tried to attack Heather and Sammy.”

Sylvia looks up from where she’s been reading over Nancy’s shoulder. “Officer, I think I’ve just about got it all figured out.”

He and the others turn their lights to her. Nancy holds up the journal she’d been reading from. “This was left here by the original homeowner. He was a private man, and he had every reason to be. He was a cat burglar. Most of the money and jewels he stole were sunk into building his private residence, with a room to hide some of his bigger pieces hidden from any prying eyes. He even writes he plans to allow himself to die in there to throw off anyone daring hunt for his treasures. That’s the skeleton Lily and I found in the basement.”

“But he didn’t hide the most precious pieces with them,” Sylvia picks up. “Those were kept separate, somewhere he chose not to write down. I’m talking a minor fortune for any kingdom or any individual in jewels. He wrote of them, but not where they were hidden. Our new friend here was sabotaging the efforts of the city to tear down this house for fear the jewels would be lost forever, or unearthed by city workers and given to the museum. What I can’t figure out is why--”

“The financial slip!” Sammy exclaims, picking up that paper from where she’d dropped it. “Heather and I found this before the guy snuck up on us. The name’s missing, but whoever it belongs to is in financial ruins. Finding any of the original owner’s treasure would bail him out from a debt he could never ever escape otherwise.”

The officer looks impressed. “You kids are pretty good at this thing. But, I do have one last question. Where’s the missing jewelry?”

“I found it,” Sylvia says, reaching into her bag and pulling out the box she and Oliver had found upstairs. “I knocked into a loose floorboard in one of the bedrooms upstairs and this was under it.”

She opens it up, revealing the jewelry inside it to the group under the light of a collection of flashlights. Sylvia adds, “Like I said, minor fortune. Enough to buy your way out of debt, or... disappear and never be seen again.”

“Well, now, that’s impressive,” he says, in shock, but not really moving for anything else, staring at the box in Sylvia’s hands.

Nancy notices, instantly getting a bad feeling. “Officer, where’s your backup?”

The instant Nancy asks that question, he scowls, and that’s all Sylvia needs. She slams the box shut and tosses it to Grayson, who grips it tightly and focuses, turning both it and himself into a ghost and shooting outside the house with it towards the van.

Heather yelps as the guy breaks loose from her at last and ducks his swing, scowling. “I’ve just about had it with this.”

“I hate detective work!” Sammy yells as Lily brushes in front of her, trying to get them both out the door.

Sylvia scowls when the fake officer bears down on her. “Oh, hell no, I did not just survive Annapolis for a dirty cop and a wannabe crook to beat me.” She kicks him right between the legs and then shoves him over as Heather knocks aside the crook, and the rest of the group flees out the front door to the van.

Lily slides into the driver’s seat without even debating it, barely giving them time to all get in before she’s backing out, and Oliver slams the door shut behind him as they get into the road and screech off towards the police station.

As they get away from the house, Sylvia gets into a call in the backseat to get on with the station properly, saying something quieter at first and then speaking up rapidly as she looks behind them and sees the police car coming in hot after them, flying through a rushed explanation of the situation at hand.

Heather suddenly pulls out a star-shaped bottle of perfume, and Nancy notices. “IS NOW THE TIME FOR A PICK-ME-UP TO YOUR BEAUTY ROUTINE?!”

“Not at all,” Heather answers, reaching back and opening the back door and aiming outwards at the way-too-close cop car, spraying at it. The liquid that comes out immediately freezes the car, including the tires, and the two occupants are thrust forward at their windshield in the abrupt stop. Heather reaches out and slams the van door back shut, taking a deep breath. “I knew that one would come in handy.”

She looks back at her fellow passengers, who are no longer staring, and there are 5 and a half (Lily mainly keeps her eyes on the road) pairs of eyes on her. “I’ll tell the story once this is over with.”

When Lily pulls them up to the station, Grayson hands the jewelry box back to Sylvia and the gang heads inside, meeting up with officers who were appraised of the situation and giving them the rundown on everything they had uncovered and discovered at the house. It takes a while to get everyone’s individual statements, but soon, the kids are let go... after getting to see their two would-be attackers brought into the station in cuffs, anyways.

Back in the van, Sylvia reclaims the keys to drive them back to the school, but everyone else is looking at Heather, who sighs.

“Okay. So, like... I’m a spy. I work for an agency called the World Organization of Human Protection, or WOOHP for short. Our mission is to keep the world safe from crazy supervillains with convoluted evil world domination plans, and we also work in security details for world leaders. WOOHP is trying to establish ties here in Auradon, and one of the ways they did that was by sending an agent undercover into the country to help keep everyone at home appraised of things that are happening here so we can offer aid in the biggest situations. What you saw in action back there was the Ice Queen Perfume, which is just liquid nitrogen in a bottle, essentially, that instantly freezes whatever it comes into contact with when sprayed. All my gadgets are made to look like typical teenage girl stuff so that, like, if someone found my spy stuff, they wouldn’t know what they found.”

Sylvia casts a glance at Heather in the mirror. WOOHP. She’d run into them in Annapolis, too, and they’d tried recruiting her before. But she wasn’t interested in that.

Though she wonders if Heather might have been the agent they met in Annapolis. Just briefly. Then, she pulls the van into a parking spot at the school, killing the engine and... sitting there.

They all do, for a minute. Nobody moves to get out, and nobody says anything for a long minute.

Then, Nancy clears her throat. “We made a great team back there.”

“Yeah,” Grayson says. “I mean... it was actually kinda...”

“Fun,” Oliver finishes the thought, and the others all nod in agreement.

Sammy bites her lip, then closes her eyes and clears her throat. “I’m gonna hate saying this, but... let’s do this again, guys. I hate the mystery business, but that was... fun.”

“I’m in if you’re in,” Heather says instantly.

Lily nods. “Aye. Count me in, too.”

“I’m down,” Nancy says, as Oliver and Sylvia both nod in agreement as well. All heads turn to Grayson, who sighs, and sticks his hand out into the center of the group.

“Let’s do this.”

The others pile their hands in on top of his quickly. Sammy pauses. “Okay, but guys, we need a name.”

“Can’t be Mystery Inc.,” Sylvia jokes. “That’s kinda taken.”

“Mystery Gang?” Oliver volunteers.

Nancy wrinkles her nose. “Nah, too similar to our parents. The Clue Gang?”

“No, no, wait,” Heather says. “Like, what about... The Clue Crew?”

The others look at each other at that and nod. Sylvia laughs. “On three. One... two...”

On three, they all break with a dorky exclamation of, “The Clew Crew!”

#amateur detective: nancy #diva but there's no one i love more: sam #like my father does: lily #never give up; never back down: sylvia #face of an angel; heart of a ghost: grayson #so totally fabulous: heather #and if you're looking for trouble then count me in: oliver #brotp: the clue crew #detective's notes: solo para

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