#(i get the man in uniform but i hate that hes police)
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Poppy Blue
Blue Jones! Miguel x Baby Doll! Reader.
Art by @marbipa on x
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Power play, choking kink, rough sex, mentions of abuse, preying, toxic and perverted behavior, implicit clandestine and illegal activities, lobotomy, dissociation, implicit depersonalization, objectification, hate sex, manhandling, violence, sub space. No Proofread.
Summary: Messy things ~ (I guess?) Miguel as Blue Jones from Sucker Punch.
A/N: Watched Sucker Punch last night and... yeah. Had to get this out of my system. ~ Another one for the Miguelverse ~
Masterlist
All it took was a bullet. Aimed at your assailant with no intentions of missing. Yet you did. You missed, failed terribly so. His chest was your goal, instead it went directly to his shoulder.
Projectile ripping and scorching skin, tissue and muscle in the go, earning a shaky and pained yelp. But it was the least he deserved after trying to be sneaky on your sister, that laid cold and bled out in the floor. She was no match for his knife and his blood thirst of the night. The rest was a blur.
And now, you were dragged down to the wet and dull greys walls of your future home. Lennox House. Or rather Lennox Asylum for the Mentally Ill.
Everything about the place screamed danger, everything about the people working in the monstrosity of place yelled I'm no better.
Barefoot, soaked in rain, holding your new uniform and gazing at the biggest man you've seen in you life, holding a bunch of keys while his eyes bore into you.
The way he stared made your skin crawl and it didn't help your clothes clung to your body. Arms braced the uniform closer to your chest, trying to cover it up. His eyes wandered to the man behind you, a police officer with three scratched lines into his face. You hadn't left him unscathed. Not when he tried to play rough with you back at your old home.
The man showed you around, place was as depressing as it was from the outside, but The Theater took the prize.
Girls your age dressed in gray, socializing in the area. And by socializing it'd mean to watch them either receive therapy with a polish beautiful woman named Vera Gorski, or watch them fight over the stupidest things. But who could blame them?
Some probably had enough time inside that had memorized the cracks in the wall, the scratches on the floor, the number of chewed gums underneath the table or how many dust particles were accumulated in the windows. Gray. Everything was gray and dull.
Even the voice of the men behind you talking about a price for your silence were tiresome and dry. Two thousand. That's what your memories were valued as. A number you now hated.
Corrupt pigs
The police officer gave you a gentle push forward as a nurse came to fetch you. The simple touch of that man made your skin revolt and slapped him hard across his wilting face, a scowl on your grimace that slowly turned into a smirk as the police officer tried to catch you, but you were being dragged away by two nurses into a life that would turn your head upside down and backwards, the many times it saw fit until you'd understand that you weren't in charge.
Until you'd understand your purpose.
Dance.
"If you don't dance, you have no purpose."
Madam Gorski murmured to you. Pretty, dangerous and aware of the many many situations revolving in the brothel. Cause in truth, the asylum was just an alibi and a frontage for the real deal. House Lennox. A house of pleasure.
Bets, drinks, sex, meds and a hell of a show to anyone that filled Miguel's pockets.
The main attraction? Girls that society deemed unfit to keep within her picky guts. Too into messy situations to keep the pretense around relatives. Too fucked up to function properly but good enough to mold and shape into something useful, and too tempting to break even further.
She mumbled while circling you, her dark eyes scrutinized you unabashedly, taking in everything her sight could reach. Pursing her pouty lips upon your body.
Pretty, scared, still holding a grip on reality while trying to swallow a really hard to deglute pill, and oh so perfect for a new purpose.
"We do not keep things in here that serve no purpose."
The collide of her cane on the floor was like a metronome, setting the pace to enter a forbidden place, somewhere that none could reach but you. Mind splitting in two, dissociating soul from conscience, leaving an empty, moving vessel behind. You were free for a moment. And now you wanted more, more of that place where your imagination ran rampant.
Where Gorski's words meant nothing, where the guards had no power, where you were allowed to break down and feel without second intentions or being frowned upon. But mainly, without Miguel’s preying gaze licking you raw while undressing your form with it.
But the clapping and praising brought you back to this reality. Red eyes fell upon you, studying, raking over your body upside down, stopping at your thighs to then go back to your flushed and breathless face.
Mr. O'Hara. Miguel 'Blue' O'Hara. The asylum guard, the key bearer, perverted pimp, and your new shadow.
Ever since that dance many things changed.
Even though you danced, duties in the asylum weren't to be neglected. If you said no, you'd get a visit to the hole.
If you didn't dance, you'd get a visit to the hole.
But if you didn't do things Miguel's way, you'd get a personal talk with him, and then a visit to the hole.
And those talks, surely weren't words.
Scrubbing the floors gave you the chance to listen a bit of everything. Girl's derangements, psychotic outbreaks, mumblings that were filled in with regret and many more flourishing emotions; the ever loud music from the cook, and the unceasing mewls and obscene noises coming from Miguel's office.
Some girls misbehaved on purpose, just to get a taste of him. Others did anything to draw his attention to them, specially in the dance floor. But you knew better to anger him.
Sure, pleasure came in hand with a high price. He wasn't good, he wasn't nice nor gentle, matter-of-factly some girls cried during their one on one sessions and the degradation only enhanced the tears.
Sick fuck.
Gorski's alarms flared up upon seeing belt marks on their legs and ass, bites in their inner thighs and bruises on their hips. Eyes a bit too gone and tired to actually work in anything. They might have spread the gossip around of Miguel fucking them, and even enjoyed it.
But the aftermath of it, said otherwise. And it was enough to keep you on check, but even so he was pulled to you like a magnet so strong you could see the refrain in his eyes every time he approached you.
Hands shaky, tongue rubbing and wetting his plump lips, a soft flush on his cheeks and pleading eyes. A silent 'Let me play too' cause he wasn't allowed to touch, or taste you. Instead, he'd use the girls willing to please him to take his anger out. Their bodies meant nothing, they meant nothing cause they weren't you.
They didn't have your body, they didn't have your sweet voice that distorted into moans and gasps that he'd kill to induce every time you danced, but above all, they didn't have your spark.
That little interaction with the police when you first arrived, had him folding on a bathroom, stroking himself to oblivion at the mere sound of your slaps.
Unbeknownst to you, you held so much power over him. Power he was set to dull, because he was the only one in control. Not even Gorski and her stupid polish methods to get in the rest's head. He ran the place and had it under control.
For how long though?
You wanted out. His little Poppy wanted out and surely would get everything to be free and leave him, forsake him in this damned place.
Anger flowed within his veins like molten lava upon remembering how other men looked at you, how other men wanted you. They'd possibly been imagining how good and tight your insides would feel cause the way you moved when you were up in the stage, was surreal. It was like another person took over.
But he, a sick fuck through and through, would want both. No. He'd have both. He craved and needed both, even better when you were dressed in such things that only added more dry bones to his needy fire.
Fucking lucky of them to feel you and be a your second skin. Even that stupid and everything but innocent uniform you were to dress every day, stirring up enough to let him take a peek of your panties, or the stockings underneath that remained etched on your supple thighs he'd often fantasize in getting lost between.
He just had to wait for you to misbehave. But sadly you didn't seem keen into breaking the rules. He'd wait.
---
"Stormy, come."
Vera called another girl. Whoever gave their names either knew them too well or picked random words in a go. Gorski too engrossed into her lessons to notice you had been dragged away by other guards under Miguel's petition.
Had you forgotten about something? No. Surely not. Last week's chores were fulfilled completely, the bathrooms were clean, the kitchen's dishes turn were washed up, and so were the floors. Your wrists sore, a reminder to ask for a new brush.
And-
Shit.
Fuck.
The laundry.
Some dancers had ran out of stockings, lingerie, and some sheets from the brothel needed to be replaced ASAP.
But you, Poppy, as Vera had called you and it stuck with the rest ever since, had trouble. Just cause you had forgotten about the damn laundry.
Miguel's formidable frame came into view, he was on a call, lying on how well someone's daughter was doing after a lobotomy. How they didn't have to worry about her anymore.
Your stomach felt sick and your heart leaped on your chest once he ended up the call. The guards had been long gone, leaving you with your shadow alone.
If honest, you knew Miguel either followed or kept you watched under hawk's eyes. Time stopped as soon as he turned to face you.
Pupils wide blown as soon as you came into his sight.
"My sweet, sweet Poppy."
He inhaled deeply and clasped his hands together before his face. An uncontainable smirk morphed into a light titter.
"You've been a bad girl, princesa."
His hands slamming on the table before him made you jolt and blink at his sudden mood shift.
"We..." He wetted his lips as he came behind you, "We were counting on you, Mi cielo. But... you failed us. Failed me."
A gulp as his breath fanned over the crook of your neck.
"You see..." His big and long fingers brushing your hair away from the right side of your head joint, "Now I gotta improvise something for the next show. "
"I'm sorry, I forgot-"
His hand took a hold of your neck and the contact made him growl. Warm, smooth, feeling every heartbeat underneath his big and calloused palms.
Lips dangerously close to your ear, breathing and panting as he pulled you closer to him, your back colliding against his torso and abdomen.
"Shh"
He hushed while taking a big whiff off you. A mix of soap, perfume and cigarettes. His hand squeezed tighter, earning a lovely and sweet yelp from you as he pushed you against his desk.
Your eyes widened in surprise upon feeling the hardening cock in between the slot of your thighs, poking, begging to be released and finally take you.
"You remind me of someone. Too bad she lost her spark."
His hand riled the skirt of your uniform up, passing up some layers of extra clothing, your underwear and stockings. Hand plunged inside to finally allowing his fingers to have a sample of your flesh.
"But I'm keeping yours alight, sweetheart."
His cock twitched when he found your clit. Fingers dexterous and peeling the outer folds away to give a gentle rub before you closed your legs almost instantly. A little delaid reaction, your brain was still processing it.
You went completely still when he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips. He sucked them off with hunger, groaning and trembling at the taste.
"Por Dios, preciosa..."
You tried to pry his hand out of your neck but the struggle made his breathings more labored and needy as he humped and ground against you from behind. Letting his tip to speak volumes at how hard and wanton he was. How bad you made him react. How much power you had over him.
Of course.
The idea of having him subdued to you assaulted your mind. Pressuring you into pleading, just like your clit that clenched and twitched upon having his tip rubbing in a slow yet firm strokes.
His hands went back inside your panties, searching for the nub of nerves that had you melting. Tongue skimming at the tender skin of your neck.
Just as he was about to bury a finger knuckle deep, the ever annoying voice of Vera urging Miguel from outside the door, asking for you. Her dear and lovely Poppy.
"Chingada madre" (Fucking shit)
He sighed with an exasperated growl and looked at the door.
"The fuck you want?!"
"I need Poppy on the practice. Now."
Where was the shocking baton when he needed it the most?
For once, you were relieved to know that you didn't go unnoticed under Gorski's watch. She protected the girls in her own way.
Knees trembled as he kept the hand inside. A little miscalculation had you whimpering while his fingers remained trapped in your flesh. His eyes snapped back on you with a smirk.
A hand clasped on top of your mouth, suffocating any moans as he worked his fingers between your pussy. Touching and prodding at the forbidden flesh, a moan vibrated through his hand with a high pitched Hmm
"I'll get her to you right away!"
Miguel yelled while working his fingers harder and faster, alternating between rubbing and fucking your hole with them.
"Spread your legs wider, pretty baby" The husk of his voice made you close your eyes and hips hump ever shyly at his hands. Gaining as much friction as possible.
"Miguel, I need her now."
He grumbled under his breath while moving his hands faster. The wet smooch and sucking squelch had him humping against your panties, breaths agitated, muttering something you could only decipher as filth in spanish, your hands clenched onto him, tightly fisted on his clothes.
Just a bit more
He heard Vera cursing in her native tongue as he prodded his fingers inside, toying with your opening. Stretching and fucking it at his likings.
"You fucking little slut"
He tittered while rubbing furiously in your clit. A bit too rough that had you bucking and trembling in his arms. If his hands made you quiver and melt he couldn't wait to see what his cock could do. You drenched his fingers.
Said fingers were cleaned up again by his mouth with a droopy and pleasure drunk face.
Despite having your legs shaky, he held you by the hips, and forced you to grab onto his desk. His hands quickly fumbled with his pants and boxers, pulling his cock out.
He stroked a couple of times, tip susceptible to stimulation. He pulled the panties aside, your stockings the only barrier between you and his erection. The flimsy layer of clothes instantly adhered to your soaked skin, He pushed in between your thighs, rubbing his cock back and forth with slow thrust against your pussy. His hot length brushed against the already engorged and sensitive nub.
The tightness of your warm thighs smooshed together created the perfect friction hole for him without actually penetrating you. So close and yet so far of that forbidden territory. Soft mewls and whimpers came out your mouth, too enraptured in feeling than verbalizing your pleasure.
He also needed his toys. Specially his favorite. Stockings were thoroughly soaked the more he pushed his cock in and out. Labia clothed and slicked parted to feel his shallow moves. He used you as his fleshlight, his hips smacking yours. His chest rumbled with animalistic and low growls.
His hands were clumsy as the pleasure turned overwhelming, you could see the flushed tip of him peeking out your thighs, the urge of tasting him turned bigger the faster he went. You were trying so hard to keep it as quiet as possible.
"Wished I was inside you, don't you?"
You gasped as he purposely angled his tip in your dripping hole. A shivering breath was all he received.
He took you by your chin and squeezed
"Don't you?!"
"Y-Yes!"
"Yes, what?!"
"Yes, sir."
Jesus fucking Christ.
He pushed in deeper in your cunt, his cock pushed a bit of the stockings inside as he doused it with his cum, unable to hold back any longer, marking you.
You had never heard a man pant and wheeze like that before. So deep, raspy, needy, cradling you tighter, anchoring to you as he shook his orgasm out.
"Fuck- Ay Dios, fuckfuck-"
He slurred while engulfing your frame against the table. Breathings matching his erratic ones.
Your skin between supple thighs felt clammy and sticky. Black stockings ruined completely by the white and wet patch of his scent.
Hot breath fanned over your neck.
"Can't wait to feel the real de-"
The door banged.
"Boss! We need you!"
The guards and Vera had proposed to fuck around with him cause his patience had been tested many times.
Your steps marching away from him snapped him out of his thoughts, He blinked and held you by the wrist, pulling you once more to him to kiss you.
Your first kiss in years. Soft but needy and filled in with a promise to fulfill later.
Now that he had a taste, there was none to stop him. He'd take his favorite toy and go home.
----
Freedom was taken away from you, right before your eyes. Forsaken by your so called friends, marooned by the crew you had gathered within the depths of despair. Your hope had given them a chance at surviving, your courage had transformed you into a fucked up sisterhood, but it was their greed that made you the ultimate sacrifice to their success.
You could only watch while thrashing your way out, but the more you fought, the more guards came to you, but one in particular pulled you out of the mess like a feather. But you didn't stop fighting. Not even when your tabs were in absolute zero probabilities of winning, not when Miguel dragged you inside manhandling your crying form like a ragdoll.
Scratches, fists and other punches didn't move him in the slightest. His grip tightened once you both were locked up in his office once more. He tossed you on the floor.
"Why... Why did you want to leave?"
His tone menacing yet hurt.
The idea of you almost slipping away from him had sent him in a berserk mode that unleashed hellbent through the asylum. Just to find you and when he did, he wanted nothing but hurt you, just the way you've hurt him.
Wasn't his attention enough? , wasn't him being lenient on you and your chores enough? Wasn't he enough?
"WHY?!"
You were too dumbfounded to process his question. Too marked with shame at your failure and rage to pay him attention, and that alone sent him grabbing you by the neck and crash you against a vanity. Tossing everything above it to the floor.
Your back collided against the now shattered mirror, you yelped but still managed to slap him and that made him groan and nod frantically.
Yes
One of his hands was more than enough to hold your both arms as he positioned between your thighs, pressing further against you.
"You don't like me, Poppy? Why?"
"Let me go!"
His hand squeezed your neck tightly, cutting all air for a minute while he kissed you. Sloppy, angry and so full with lust and rage. It gave you no time to react while his other hand tore the panties from underneath your skirt.
You kept slapping him, but that only enticed him to spread you further
"Love that fucking spark on you, preciosa."
He then thrashed you against the table sending a painful jolt through your body, It made you still for a moment.
"No! No! Don't-" his eyes widened in panic, "Don't lose it. Please-"
"No" You panted, "Just found it" A flower vase was smashed in his forehead. And that granted you freedom from his hands as you fell on the floor, gasping for air and crawling away from him.
Heavy steps echoed, trailing dangerously after you. Miguel took you by the ankle and dragged you towards him.
"No!"
He hissed and pulled you upwards, like a statuette, and slammed your torso against the desk you had been clenching onto. All air knocked out your lungs.
A hand passed over his buckle and removed in a swift motion his belt in one go. The sight of your pussy peeking underneath the ruffles of your skirt made a smile that didn't reach his eyes to appear.
He quickly got the belt around your neck, your hands instantly pried, or at least tried to pry it away, scratching yourself in the process. The smell of copper filled in the air, the vase had broke the skin of his forehead.
"You fucking ungrateful bitch!"
He secured the belt tighter and you wheezed, hands flailed to get a hold of him. Fingers already prodding and toying with your cunt, to his surprise, the struggle and fight turned you on, knowing that a man wanted you so badly that would do anything to have you, and you denying such power had you soaked.
Specially when the man in question was this 6'9" cell guard that wanted nothing but to wreck you, destroy you the way you had destroyed his fucked up illusions.
"All I did for you, everything I did meant shit for you-"
He rasped before slapping your butt with such force it stung and left a red imprint on the now reddening flesh.
"I didn't... a-ask you for shit!"
He grunted at your broken words as he pulled the makeshift leash backwards, separated your legs and pulled out his cock once more.
"There we go, baby"
"Y-You're so pathetic-"
Words died in your throat as he slid inch by inch inside. The intrusion made you sob a feeble whimper, it burned and hurt, but in a way you weren't expecting and you liked it.
"Me? Pathetic? Ay muñeca, is not me whose gonna beg me to stop" He pulled your face towards him and kissed you once more, "You won't even remember your name once I'm done with you."
He buried to the hilt as he watched your expression. Troubled yet blissful. A little grip was loosened as he felt you were about to speak again.
"You talk too much shit-."
Part of you regretted said words, cause he smashed your head in the desk and dug his fingers around your hips.
"Is that so?"
Nothing had you prepared for the assailing onslaught of his hips. Fucking was a measly word compared to what he actually was doing to your poor and snug cunt.
It wasn't slapping, his hips thwacked yours with such force you were sure your cervix would be bruised and your legs wouldn't walk properly for the next few days, but as it hurt, it felt good. Too good for your own comfort. Specially when propped a leg ontop of a stool for more leverage to ruin you deeper.
A garbled moan came out your lips, before gritting your teeth together and shaking your head vehemently. He laughed in between deep growls and moans.
"Am I dulling that spark, muñeca?"
Your body lurched forwards, pussy drenched him with every remorseless push he delivered. Eyes struggling to keep on the front, but it was unavoidable to have them rolling back as your jaw slacked open.
High pitched wails rumbled out of your gaping mouth, permeating the once silent room. Two of his fingers slid in your mouth, hot breath colliding against them. They hooked forcing your mouth to keep open.
The desk shook under your weight, the room filled in with moans so sweet and delicious, unlike the many that had been under him.
You were experiencing first hand the danger. Miguel wasn't nice, he wasn't gentle. The latter made an emphasis on its own as he pulled the belt impossibly tighter. A gurgling and rasping noise came from your throat. He wasn't squeezing anymore, he was choking you.
And Dios mio, you were sure you'd die. But dying sounded way too much of a reward than staying in this awful place.
"Yes"
You hissed in between butchered pants and wheezing mewls. Mind set in welcoming the reaper as air was still cut out of your lungs. Legs too weak to keep on their own. Dizziness fogging your mind, fire engulfing your body, Your cunt slurped him in, wetness no longer an issue since he slid and out so easily.
The only indicator you still had consciousness was the little pathetic cries you did as his hips plowed you with a new intensity you didn't know possible.
He had been whispering the filthiest things into your ear, a couple of degrading words you couldn't quite hear, too busy being cock drunk and slipping in and out of consciousness.
Your torso and arms laid in between his arms and the desk, his upper body keeping you still as his hips did the whole assault. His face too snatched in a myriad of things.
Pride cause he finally got to have you and proved you wrong, lust cause you felt just like he had imagined, anger because of your previous words. He was the one that was rawing you into oblivion, had your brain turned upside down, not Gorski, and had you cumming with such an intensity it was overwhelming and too much for your brain to digest.
Too much.
The choking had your brain's fuse in a shortcut, shutting itself off for what it felt like forever, until he spilled himself inside. Renovating your walls white.
Hot cum spurted and not a single drop was wasted as he made sure you kept it inside.
His hulking figure trembled, torn in between subtle and violent spasms that shook him to his very core and raged pants that sent a shiver down your sore spine.
He finally had you and you were his. He wasn't letting you go. Not when he was about to give you a new purpose.
Being his.
---
Everything that he thought good and right blurred. Eyes filled in with tears at your state. Gone. Gone from this world, gone from him, the spark had vanished.
No
How this happened?
His mind raked through the memories, trying to find the right moment everything went to shit.
He signed a paper. A lobotomy authorization in your behalf.
No!, no!.
"Come back" He pleaded while kissing you and squeezing his hands on the joint of your head and shoulders, to pry something out of you. But nothing came.
The spark had been lost.
And so were you.
"Please, muñeca"
He sobbed and cradled you in his arms, but there was no push, no retaliation, nothing. Only a lovely vessel of his love.
You were gone. For real.
He had been so naive to believe that fucking you senseless meant to have you. He had been such a fool to fall for such a simple thing as that.
And now he had lost you. His own hand brought his demise. Guards and Gorski dragged him out, his hand latched on to you, but even your skin felt different.
"Poppy!"
He yelled but you didn't answer. Just watched him with a look that shattered his heart.
You were free. Free and far far away.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#miguel smut#spiderman 2099 smut#sucker punch#t writes✨#one shot#Miguelverse
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officer!els<3
author's note - meow i love this woman.
content warnings - black!coded!reader ig????, fluff, els i love u ellie williams pls handcuff me to ur bed and police-brutalize me! , text msgs from reader that are very me-coded! , mostly just based off every grumpy but cool cop i've seen in media, lots of notes from me i'm going insane I NEED HER!!!!! , there's a white man in a pic i put... you have been warned, smut/suggestive shit at the end!
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- def wanted to be a cop when she was a kid and then was a total fucking juvenile as a teen. (duh!)
- always loved the police officers who barely ever gave troubled kids a hard time. (this is coming from a troubled kid. acab all the way except for u guys. well, still acab, but y'all r cool!) would refuse to talk to anyone except her favorites. i fully believe that's one of the reasons she would go into this workforce.
- when she got approved to start training to be a cop, u were home with her favorite strand of weed and she gave u a look like, "🤨🤨" , "can't be doing that no more baby, i'm gonna be a cop." , "...stfu and take the first hit before you piss me off..." , she's wearing a SHIT-eating grin before she takes it. (don't ask me how she passes her drug-tests!) (probably gets jesse to do it or someone idk maybe joel if she's lucky!) (def not joel...)
- ADDING ONTO THIS!^^ : every single time you smoke when she can't she'll look so sad or just side-eye tf out of you... "really?" , "what do you want me to do ellie..." u stopped smoking around her when she couldn't...
- this woman is so intimidating but once those cop dogs come on the scene she's so cute<3 . she's so smiley and happy they love her AND SHE LOVES THEM. she definitely sent u a picture of her with the group of the babies and was like, "can we adopt them all pls i love them ):" . you guys adopted a rescue pup shortly after...
- whenever you're doing ANYTHING EVER she flashes her badge at you and says something so loser of her , "don't make me handcuff you..." or makes finger guns with the sounds and GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN.
- speaking of badges, she always has her badge on her. ALWAYS. it is EMBARRASSING!
- when she got her first arrest she was so happy:3 . i FEEL like she took a picture with the fucker and everything and she looked so proud of herself. "good job baby now pls get to the station before that mf breaks out of those handcuffs he looks like he's gonna murder u..."
- this is a headcannon of mine (and canon so why am i saying hc maybe it's just bcs it's more in-depth in my head.) but she loves kids and whenever she sees a younger person at the station, she makes sure that they're ok and have everything they need.
- with that being said, she HATES the teens who don't have a valid reason to be such delinquents. lovable delinquents are her soft-spot but those... THOSE ONES😧.
- definitely is a kitten-saver-cop. hates getting the call but she responds every time.
- sends u this pic anytime u say something mildly threatening to her in text msgs:
suggestive/NSFW!
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- the day she got her uniform, you wanted to jump her bones. she came back home, poor girl was so tired and all you could think about is how good she looked in that shit.
- like i said... the badge is with her at all times... maybe this is too feral but i feel like she put IT in ur mouth and took a polaroid of it after u were done eating her out or SSAAAWWWWMMMMTHHHIIIIING. (pls let me wear ur badge baby i'm on my knees BEGGING YOU!)
- definitely joked about role-playing jailer/jailed and then it wasn't a joke anymore. y'all tried it once and couldn't stop laughing.
- has definitely used her handcuffs on u or vice versa. she gets so excited when u pull that shit out.
- ggggg...g-g-gu-....gggggggggguuuunnn ki-
- definitely has fucked u in the uniform. u two probs have had a quickie in the station bathroom on multiple occasions.
bonus round - police!els edit<3 :
#abby tlou#tlou2#abby anderson#abby anderson fic#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie x abby#ellie x fem reader#ellabs#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams series#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams fanart#dina tlou#tlou art#joel tlou#the last of us#tlou#joel miller#bella ramsey#laura bailey#ani's ellie🎀#ani's writing📖
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Can you do a yandere killer clown that has been following you all night on Halloween
A/N:I wrote this a long time ago and hated it at the time but it really wasn't as bad as I thought! Hope you all are having a wonderful 2024 :>
Synopsis: A suspicious "killer clown" has been stalking you on Halloween to your dismay. Is it really just a costume?
CW: murderous clown, clownery, slight in-depth stabbing(death), stalking, intimidation, general fear
Word count: 2.7k
“Nice costume, man!” The echoed memory rang hollow inside your bobbing head. “I bet the black helps hide all the blood, huh?”
At the time you mischievously brought a hand to your mouth, shielding it from the eyes of curious and terrified children who mersmerisingly watched you joke to the killer clown. The masked figure hovered in front of you, staring blankly from behind the blur of white and red. The figure didn’t move, didn’t alter to his dominant hand with the bloody knife that rested in his palm.
You were met with silence as your comment passed; dark, invisible eyes watched you through the small eye-slits of the clown’s mask. Its elaborate makeup donned diamonds under and above each eye hole, a spongy red nose covering the mask’s nostrils. Though, you could still hear whoever was underneath, breathing-- the air pushing against the silicone. Painted black lips covered the faint outline on the masks mouth, detailed to almost look feminine. However, the broad shoulders underneath the harlequin patterned suit made you think otherwise.
You gave an amused smile, letting the figure keep in-character as he watched you slowly pass. A whiff of reeking gore and thick blood came across you as you walked away; a thought of ‘maybe you should have honked the clown’s nose for good measure’ crossed your mind, but the smell made you think otherwise. If he was dedicated enough to cover himself in pigs blood, who knew what else he’d do to you to stay in character.
Your mind ran in circles as the heels of your feet ached, your subconscious desperate to know what you said that made it all go wrong, or what made it go too right with this costumed killer clown.
Because here you were, walking down your neighborhood’s sidewalk with flickering light posts barely brightening the road in front of you as you sped passed your front door for the third time. With a dirty hand mirror gripped in your sweaty palm, you faced it slightly below your shoulder, hoping it was low enough that the shadow behind you couldn’t see it. You caught a glimpse of the red-speckled plastic mask and dazzling crimson hair of the clown behind you. Shutting the pocket mirror immediately, you picked up your pace again for whatever time again that night-- you've lost count. But it didn’t matter, the masked freak always seemed to be just a lamp post away, gradually getting closer with a joyful pep in his step.
After your first interaction with him at a lame Halloween festival, you then saw him again at the gas station right across your friends’ street, and once more at that same friend's costume party. You thought it must've been a coincidence to see him inside the gas station, only witnessing the back of his crazy dyed hair that looked too attached to be a wig; talk about being dedicated to the bit. Maybe he gets paid for being a scare actor? You didn't know, you didn't get the chance to ask before he ran out at the sight of a police officer perusing the candy aisle. Too bad for him, it was only a prominent gay dressed up in a sexy uniform.
But there he was again that night, peeking behind your friend's bedroom window that you sat across from. Seeing him there nearly made you shriek, jumping up enough to spill your drink all over the guy next to you. When you tried to explain, the clown had disappeared, only to show up mere minutes later from the bathroom window while you tried to rub beer out of your costume.
Seeing him the second time was nearly as startling, but you managed to keep your reaction to a minimum, merely glaring at the bloodied clown from behind dark glass. You threw your cup at the window, hoping to scare him off or show that you weren’t worth fucking around with, but he… didn’t move. Through the tiny hole in the mouth of the mask, breath came through, just slightly fogging up the glass. How the hell did he get up here in the first place, weren’t you on the second floor??
You turned away, hoping to just turn the light off and that’d be the last you’d see of him; but a thump on the glass told you otherwise. Another thump, this time almost with a clinking crack. Your hand still resting on the lightswitch; you nonchalantly looked back to see a familiar knife jabbed against the window pane, small cracks growing as he twisted it further into the window. Your hope of giving an apathetic reaction to deter him did nothing, gloved hands coming up to squeakily draw a dark red line on the window.
A threat? Maybe he's trying to apologize? What was he going to write-- you wondered if it was worth even sticking around for. But instead of words, the red line was finished with another, creating a small, dripping misshapen heart on the bathroom window. You slammed down on the lightswitch and shut the door quickly at the sight, making your way down the stairs.
He had to be one of your friend’s frat-guy pals, someone who went out of their way to terrorize on the nights of halloween in unassuming grocery stores or parties like this one. Someone here at this party who was just fucking with you-- that’s just what it was.
But now, hours later on the dark pavement of a street that looked so unfamiliar at night, you were starting to second guess yourself. The sweet whistling of what could only be from the clown behind you grew louder, squeaky shoes mimicking your steps and seeming to pick up in pace. You did the same, nearly jogging as you saw something moving in the distance. It was oddly pale and hunched over, going faster than you could run.
It was a biker! Some random fucking guy on his bike at 2 in the morning! You assumed this was what people meant when miracles roamed the earth, waiting to be found.
“Hey!” You shouted, running towards the speedy white demon as you blocked the middle of the sidewalk, hoping the guy would see you waving at him. But his stare was blank, not focusing on you nor the sidewalk in front of him. All he did, was bike.
“HEY! Can you please help me--” a pair of white wireless earbuds were nestled deep in his ears, immune to your shouting. Once he came cycling up close, almost too close, you realized he wasn’t stopping. His eyes completely looked past you, swatting you away with a sweaty arm as you stumbled into the street after narrowly avoiding his bike.
“What the fuck!” You yelled, watching him ride away as you threw your hands in frustration. You stopped to watch as the clown stepped to the side to give the incoming biker a clear path. This guy was just going to go past like everything was fine, not paying attention to the person in distress right in front of him, OR the creepy ass harlequin clown he was approaching. You gave a heavy, exasperated sigh and turned around, beginning to walk again as you hoped maybe the new distraction would stop your bloody walking partner.
But a sudden thud against the sidewalk caught you off guard.
Did he really ride into the clown?
No, from behind you, the man’s bike laid twisted with spinning wheels in front of your hunched clown stalker. The man was grasping his side with one arm, having fallen on top of his bike as his hand shielded from above.
Well, that's kind of what he gets for biking at the witching hour. And for not helping someone in distress! Karma's a bitch.
You hadn't noticed where the gore-striken clown's weapon had landed during the whole ordeal, not even thinking of it until a wet 'shlink!' and violent howl was released. The biker held his raised wrist with a shaking cradle, looking up at the knife that was just pulled out of him.
And just as the knife was removed, it was slammed back in with great inertia and skilled positioning on the clown's part. A wretched sound left the biker's throat, along with the odd crunching that came with him being pushed farther down onto his minimalistic bike.
A great red gash split onto his forehead, leading to the knife's metal stem that seemed to make peace with its new home inside the biker's skull. One of his earbuds popped out, crashing onto the sidewalk as blood flecked into his left eye. He seemed to look at the fallen earpiece, no longer acknowledging the knife now pushed as far as it could stab.
The clown seemed to stand back, watching the creation of his short few motions. He let out a whistle similar to an animated sigh. Comically, he wiped invisible sweat from his brow, looking over at you.
Your feet began to shuffle backward, grating against the rubble on the road as your hands flew to your mouth with an intensity that made you lose breath.
The mask seemed to look at you with no emotion, blankly watching with a sad smile as the clown stood simply. With the silence of the street, the stillness of the wind, you could hear faint breaths from across the street. They were soon replaced by a muffled whistle beneath the plastic, the clown's eyes dark and unseeable behind it. But the tiniest speck of light, a teensy reflection from the streetlight showed the human eyes of someone…unpredictable.
He stopped, only to give a high-pitched whistle as he pulled his steel weapon out of its created hole and rammed the knife back into the cowering biker, this time his chest receiving the treatment. The clown pulled it out again, only to prepare in the same position, raking up the bikers chest with the blade once more. Each time, he whistled and heightened it to mimic the sound of the knife flying through the air, only to crash down into a body of meat. He stopped once the knife made a connection to the skin, only to begin again.
You stood in grotesque awe, mouth ajar as you tripped over the sidewalk's curb. If it wasnt clear already to your record-broken mind, you needed to leave, now. You knew the guy was a creep, someone wayy to into the “murderous killer clown” trope but now, shit was a little too real. You began to run, making your way around the rest of the block without a care of whether or not he chased after you, finding your home. You needed to get inside, somewhere with locked doors that would be a barrier too thick for him to cut down.
Sweat and tears blinded you as black road filled your vision, along with your dim phone screen. you pressed the all too familiar three numbers on your phone. A nine, and two ones.
You waited for the shrill gurgles and distant whistling to stop from behind you, to hear a human voice pickup from the screen against your ear; which thankfully came after about two consecutive rings.
“Hello!?” You unknowingly interrupted, hearing the end of an “your emergency?”
“Hi-- uh, some freak has been following me and,” You were cut off by a grating voice, one slightly deadened and distant.
"Now that's just being mean."
Your heart jumped as you ran, dread settling inside you as the voice hummed in disappointment.
In the distance you could see the familiar front porch of your home, only about five houses down.
"You've got..to be…kidding," you huffed out of breath, elongating your stride to look like a wild runner as you sprinted to your driveway.
"Clowns are universally beloved; maybe you're the freak; considering you picked me I'd say you already had questionable taste."
"How'd you-- but I called--" You huffed, yet the clown cut you off.
"You really shouldn't leave your phone unattended in a room full of people…who knows when a devious comic of a murderer might strike! Especially one so handy in manipulating technology." You could practically hear the animated pose he struck along with the words. "So, having fun yet?"
You didn't answer, or rather couldn't from the lack of oxygen in your throat. All you could do was focus on running; but that's alright, because the freakshow on the other side talked enough for the both of you.
"We'll I hope so; in fact, you know I've chosen you to be my last man standing. My final girl," He paused for dramatic effect "My, surviving victim of tonight's excursion… you'll be a grand commemorating prize to bring back home, to be sure. You're just lucky that buddy boy back here took your place-- if he hadn't, I can't say I'd have been able to restrain myself enough to keep you alive until we got back home."
What the fuck was he going on about? What did it matter anyway, your sides were cramping so twistedly that it and your upcoming mailbox were all you could manage to concentrate on.
An infectious laugh cracked over the line, running from one ear through the other as you ran with your phone gripped tight. Looking down at your smudged screen, the caller ID read a simple “Unknown number.” You tried pressing the end call button, only for your screen to remain frozen. The caller screen almost looked like a screenshot, holding your phone captive as none of the buttons managed to work. The on/off button clicked and clicked, not altering the white screen.
“Ahh I can still see you running down there… trying to hang up on me while sprinting is hard, huh? Just make this easier and stop where you are, save me the trouble of having to play this hide and seek game for tonight. I promise if you make me play, I'll win."
You stop for a moment to catch your breath, turning around to see neon red hair in the distance and a black outline, the red diamonds on the clown's suit blending in. He still stood next to the fallen biker, holding something to his ear.
You wheezed out a laugh, throat beginning to close up.
"Oh yeah?... I'm halfway down the road, bitch! Once I get inside it's.. gonna be over for you. I don't, I don't know what the fuck this is-- but you're not gettin away with--with anything!" You held onto your knees, heaving into the phone as your chest burned. The silence on the other line was hardly noticeable as the sound of blood rushing through your ears and your heartbeat drowned everything else out.
"...Don't say I didn't warn you, doll."
The phone without warning went dark, line cutting off as the caller screen went missing.
Through blurry eyes you saw the clown lower his hand that was once at his ear. With a short moment of stillness, he stared at you. That stillness, morphed almost automatically into a full-on run. The pitter patter of squeaky rubber shoes on the gravel was adrenaline-inducing, filling the silence of the dark street besides the heaving of yours and the clown's breath.
"Oh fuck…" you murmured, turning around to begin your sprint once more.
As long as you could reach the house first, open the door with your keys in time, lock the door-- you'd be fine. You didn't have another phone in the house, but you'd be fine-- you'd just, at least be safe. From him.
But speaking of keys, where were yours?
You ran your hands over and over the pockets in your clothes, feeling nothing but the scraps of empty candy wrappers in your pockets. Where the fuck were your keys?!?
Finally, the grace of your front door made its way directly in front of you, your exhausted legs running up the short porch steps. You hadn't given even one second to looking back at your fellow runner, panic of losing your keys and the upcoming door occupying your mind. You jiggled the door handle, banging against the door with your shoulder as you let out a panicked exhale.
You could hear him getting closer, hear the labored breathing and chaotic deep giggling muffled by silicone.
The sound of heavy shrill footsteps stopped-- but beside your rapid heaving, hot breath covered the side of your shoulder. Wet red locks touched your ear, a deep inhale came to grace the top of your matted hair.
Four fingers covered in a frilly, harlequin-patterned glove were thrusted in front of your face, jingling your precious keys in their grip.
"Looking for these?"
#writing#x reader#reader insert#self insert#Fiction#killer clown#Clown#clowncore#clown tw#tw clowns#tw horror#Horror fiction#killer clowns#Clownpocalypse#Clowns 2016#Halloween#yandere x reader#yandere#male yandere#Male clown#Clown X reader#Gn reader#Gender Neutral Reader#gender neutral y/n#tw violence#Killer clown X reader#Clown X you#x y/n
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Arresting a big nerd
Jerry loved being a police officer. It made him big with the ladies and he had gotten super jacked since joining the force. He had all the power in the world and just like back in school he could bully anyone he wanted. Especially the nerds who never grew out of their gamer phase.
He saw Terry at the mall and waited for him to get into his car. He hated Terry, because their names were so similar he’d always get lumped in with him. "Terry and Jerry" people would say. He was gonna pull him over for speeding. Course the nerd wasn’t speeding but he wanted to strike some fear into the dweeb. So he waited until Terry drove off and followed after him and turned his sirens on. Terry stepped out of his car with a confused expression on his face.
"anything wrong officer? Wait…Jerry…?" Terry asked surprised.
"hello Terry been awhile, did you know you were speeding?" I said with a smirk.
"speeding that’s ridiculous? I was going 45"
"are you the cop here? No. I say you were going 55, now hands behind your back."
This time terry smirked. I raised an eye brow at the man. He took his glasses off and dropped them on the ground.
“Pick that up please, Jerry?" He asked.
"Why you listen here-" I glanced into his eyes and suddenly felt the desire to obey. I kneeled down to lift up his glasses when a strange feeling filled my gut as it began to strain against my uniform. My uniform enlarged to fit my filling frame. My face began to change too. I kept my face nice and shaven with just a bit of stubble but now a full overgrown beard began to take its place. My vision had begun to grow as fuzzy as my head as I pondered why I was reaching for the ground, then I saw my pair of glasses. I lifted them up and put them on my face, looking forward and recognizing the man in front of me.
"Good old Terry and Jerry huh? That nerdy couple still together after all this time." He spoke.
Memories of getting bullied in highschool all the way up to police academy filled my mind.
I smiled and blushed at my boyfriend gosh I loved him. I couldn’t wait to get off my shift and go home to play games with him.
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Request (only if you want to ofc): Can you write Leon Kennedy pulling you over but like instead of fining you he's like "I have another way of solving this debt of yours" *wink* *wink*
i love this request sm
ft. cop!leon x fem!reader
synopsis. officer kennedy is a very considerate man.
content. smut. 1.6k words. power imbalance, unprotected p in v, fingering, spanking, exhibitionism, use of the term 'sir'.
note. thank you for the request anon, i hope you enjoy! exams are almost over so i'll get to more of your requests soon <33
masterlist. inbox. comments & reblogs are highly appreciated !!
You watch the blue and red flash of the cop car through the side mirror of your vehicle. The God-awful siren screeching is enough to sour your already shitty mood.
Pulling over to the side of the road, you contemplate how to get your ass out of this problem. You couldn’t afford a ticket right now. Your student debt is enough of a financial crisis.
There’s a knock on the glass, and you roll your window down. You hoped the officer would understand your situation and give you a break.
“Do you have any idea how fast you were going, ma’am?” A smooth yet authoritative voice questioned.
You always hated that question. How were you even supposed to answer it?
You finally glance up at the officer with an unamused look, noticing his pretty blue eyes trail along your body. He’s probably trying to figure out if you’re under the influence.
He notices your lack of response before continuing, “You were going a 100 in a 75. I’m going to have to–”
“C’mon, officer.” You cut off his statement with desperation, gripping the steering wheel in frustration. “There has to be another way. I- I can’t afford to pay off anything right now. I’ll do anything, I swear.”
It was your fault you got into this predicament, but you weren’t ready to accept that yet.
He's observing you again, weighing his options. He clicks his tongue but agrees.
“Anything? I think I have another way you can make up for it,” he says, a sly smirk on his lips.
“Really!? Thank you so much, sir!” You say excitedly, a smile blooming on your face. “What do you have in mind?”
“Would you mind exiting your car?”
You feel nervous but comply, stepping out of your car.
You stand tall, straightening your back as you look at the brooding officer. His eyes are on you again, but there’s something else in his gaze while he watches you from top to bottom. He takes in your outfit, the tight mini skirt and top that leaves little to the imagination.
You’re staring right back at him. You couldn’t deny that he looks attractive. The blue cotton shirt hugs his fit figure, and the blonde wisps of hair frame his gorgeous face. You always did like a man in uniform.
“So how will I avoid the dent in my bank account? Officer…” You trail on.
“Officer Leon Kennedy.” He says, stepping closer to you. “I’m gonna make sure you won’t be reckless on the road again.”
Your eyes widen slightly at the sudden proximity, but you don’t mind. You also don’t miss the look the officer gives you like you’re his favourite meal, ready to be ravaged.
“How are you gonna do that, Officer Kennedy?” You ask, looking up at him innocently, playing into it.
“I’m going to punish you. Is that okay with you, ma’am?”
Your face feels warm at his words, but you nod. The warmth moves through your body and to your core.
“You have to tell me, miss.” He softly grips your jaw, making you look up at him. His thumb pulls at your bottom lip. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck a police officer in public to avoid being fined.
“It's okay.” You manage to get out. He squeezes your cheeks, your lips jutting out.
“Sir or Officer Kennedy. You get that baby?” He states, letting go of your face when you mumbled a quiet yes, sir. You’re looking up at him again, awaiting what he will do next.
“Bend over, ma’am. Over the hood of your car.” He instructs you, his voice laced with authority, and your pussy pulses with need.
You’re quick to listen to his every word. On your elbows and palms, flat against the hood of your car, supporting your body weight. One of his hands rests on your hips while the other is trailing down to the hem of your skirt. He bunches the fabric up, and you gasp softly at the cold air nipping at your skin.
You hear a faint fuck not before both of his are on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. His hand moves to your panties, and you’ve probably soaked through them. He presses his thick fingers on the dampened spot.
“I think you’re enjoying this punishment too much, baby.” He mutters, gliding his fingers along your panties, barely enough stimulation on your clit.
“Fuck, please,” you whine softly. Hands come into contact with the flesh of your ass with a loud sound, and a whimper softly escapes the back of your throat. The pain which resonates with the slap turns into pleasure, and you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together.
“Please, sir.” He mocks you as he soothes the tender area. You want to roll your eyes, but instead, you relent, repeating his words with need.
“I don’t know. Will you behave for me, miss?”
“Yes, sir.” You whine. “I– I’ll be good for you.”
You hear him chuckle behind you, but he pulls your panties to the side, marvelling at your dripping cunt. His digits glide along your drooling pussy, coating it in your slick. He pulls his fingers back, and you hear him sucking on them with a loud groan.
“You taste so good, ma’am.”
You don’t have time to appreciate his kind words before his fingers work on your throbbing clit. You gasp at the sudden attention, and Officer Kennedy takes an opportunity to push his finger inside you.
Loud whines leave you as you fall apart on the Officer’s finger. He adds another digit, pumping them into your pussy. His movements are deliberate, curling into your cunt as he tries to edge you, keeping you from coming.
“Good girls get to come,” he had said.
You’re so close to coming for what feel’s like the 10th time — he pulls away from you. You huff in annoyance.
There’s another slap on your raw ass, and you can’t help but moan. Each noise you make goes straight to Leon’s cock.
“Please, sir, fuck me.” You’re almost sobbing from being robbed of another orgasm. Your thigh’s trembling, and your lips quiver as you plead to the Officer.
“Only because you’ve been so good for me, baby.”
You hear the soft clicking of his belt as he unbuckles it and pushes his boxer down to expose his aching cock. You so badly want to turn your head back to look at it.
One of his hands is on the curve of your back, pushing you forward on the hood of your car as the other guides his dick along your slit, bumping your clit. The tip of his cock enters your cunt, and you whine aloud.
He’s slowly moving into your tight, huffing as he does so. He isn’t even entirely in, but he’s already stretching you wide.
He’s wholly inside of you, your ass flushed to his pelvis. His cock is so fat you wish you could’ve seen it before it's inside of you. You’re grateful he’s prepped you with his fingers despite the teasing.
He leans forward, your back pressed against his chest, and his breath fans your ear. You clench around him, and he groans.
He starts moving in and out of your sloppy pussy, and your arousal coats his cock with each movement. You push for hips back, eager to finally come.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when the tip of his cock kisses the spot that makes you see stars. Your moans grow in volume and amount.
“Sh– Shit. You want everyone to know how much of a slut you are, huh? How much you love to be fucked dumb by an officer?” He huffs into your ear, punctuating each word with the thrust of his hips.
You’re full-on sobbing due to the assaulting pace of his cock on your g-spot. He squeezes your hips roughly, letting out soft moans into your ear as the velvety walls of your cunt squeeze him tight.
You’re so close. The knot formed in your tummy is so tight, ready to snap.
“Can I come, sir?” You plead, teary-eyed. Your nails attempting to dig into the hood of your car. You hope it doesn't dent as he fucks you.
“Come, baby. Let everyone know who’s fucking you so good.” He groans. You know there isn’t anyone here for miles, but the thought still has you clenching around his cock.
Leon moves one of his hands to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. Your cunt gushes as you come undone, pulsing around his fat cock, which still persistently ruts into you.
“Where d’you want my cum, ma’am?” He pants. It now hits that he still doesn’t know your name. That doesn’t change the fact you want him to come in you.
“Come inside me, sir.”
You hear him gasp before he comes, spilling his hot seeds inside your tight cunt.
He pulls out of you, placing back your panties on and pulling your skirt down before fixing himself back into his pants.
With shaking legs, you turn around to face Officer Kennedy, his cum spilling from your panties and down your thighs. You look up at him through eyelashes, clumped together from tears. He holds you by your waist as you try to balance yourself.
His face is flushed pink, and the blonde wisps of hair stick to his sweat-slicked forehead. He clears his throat, continuing,
“I think you might have to pay an extra fine.”
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#resident evil#leon x reader#leon smut#resident evil smut#re4 smut#leon x you#leon kennedy x you#re4 x you#re4#re4 x reader#smut#✩‧₊˚ fics#✩‧₊˚ requests
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Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 6
It's Wednesday! (I'm ignoring the clock that says it's 2 AM. It's totally still Wednesday. I haven't gone to bed yet which means it can't be Thursday.)
So, since it's obviously still Wednesday, it's time for another WIP Wednesday. We're getting into the real meat of the plot of this arc with this update! And now you'll maybe start to see where I'm gonna take this.
Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.
First, Previous
Word Count: 1.2k
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And that was when a large, swirling-green gash opened up in the night sky and dozens of ghosts started pouring through.
“Oh man!” exclaimed Sam as they watched the ghosts wreak havoc on the street. “I’ve never seen this many ghosts attack at once!”
Danny held out his thermos as he stared. “I’m gonna need a bigger thermos.”
The ghosts all appeared to be wearing uniforms and held batons as they attacked civilians and police indiscriminately.
“Uh, Danny?” asked Tim. “Should we call in back up?”
“No!” One of the ghosts got close to their group and Danny quickly sucked it into the thermos, dropping Jazz’s milkshake in the process. “Dammit. Absolutely not. It’s bad enough with three metas here. No more.”
Across the street, they saw a couple running from three of the invaders. One of the ghosts turned invisible and entered the body of the man who went stiff before sprinting to catch up to his partner and grabbing her to hold her still.
Then one of the other ghosts turned a garbage can over the both of them. The one overshadowing the man left his body, leaving the humans crying and covered in garbage as the ghosts laughed.
“I see,” said Tim. “How do we protect Bart, Cassie, and Conner?”
“You’re metas?” asked Sam.
Cassie nodded. “Yeah, nothing special, but… I don’t want to see what a ghost could do with my powers.”
“Let’s get back to my place. My parents might be crazy, but the ghost shield works. And then we can make a plan.”
Tim nodded. “I’ll lead. Kon, Bart, Cassie, you three need to stay in the middle. Sam, Tucker, you watch our sides and Danny, take up the rear. Capture any ghosts that try to approach us.”
Amity, even during a ghost invasion, was much easier to navigate than Gotham and Tim was able to lead them back to Danny’s house without getting lost. Every scream made him want to stop and help, though. He hated being useless.
Behind him, he could hear muttered curses from his teammates and knew they felt the same. But they needed weapons. Ones that could actually hit a ghost. And they needed to make sure they could fight off any overshadowing.
A TV was thrown out of a house through a window next to them sending shards of glass raining on the ground. Sam let out a string of curses.
“Sam!” called Danny. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. Just a slice to my arm.”
“We’re almost there,” said Tim. “We’ll check it out.”
He was flat out running now, could hear the others just behind them. They turned a corner and he could see the glowing FentonWorks sign. He grit his teeth and continued to run away from the mayhem, fighting every instinct he had. He wouldn’t be able to help if he stayed. He repeated it as a mantra with every step.
And finally they were there, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, ushering his friends in first.
Once inside, Danny flipped a few switches and metal slammed down over the windows, though no guns or lasers came out of the walls.
“Okay. No ghosts can get in now.”
“Danny!” Jazz came running down the stairs. “You’re all okay! Mom and Dad rushed out as soon as the attack started. What’s going on?”
“Jazz! Sorry, I dropped your milkshake on the way here. And not much, just, you know, a ghost invasion.” Danny’s laugh was bordering on hysterical.
“But you’re all safe?”
“Sam?” asked Danny. “How’s your arm?”
“I think it’s all right.” Sam grimaced as she held some tissues to the injury.
Jazz joined and led her to the kitchen. “Come on, let me clean that up for you. What happened?”
“A ghost threw a TV through a window. A piece of glass got me as we ran by.”
Tucker turned on the Fenton’s TV and switched to the news channel.
“I’m Shelly Makamoto and this is Ghost Watch,” an Asian woman said in a cheerful voice. “Ghosts, can you believe it, real ghosts are invading Amity Park right now. Emergency vehicles are struggling to get through the invasion, so if you are injured and in an area of high ghost concentration, help may be delayed. It is recommended you remain put and wait until first responders are able to get to your area. Currently, the ghosts are most focused on the downtown area, so the hospital is spared at this time. We can only hope this doesn’t change. Now, our weatherman Lance Thunder is out right now, so lets switch to him to get an on-the-scene report.”
They all watched in silence as a male reporter cowered behind an overturned car as he gave his report.
Sam and Jazz returned just a moment later. Sam had a large bandaid over her arm but shook her head when Danny shot her a questioning look.
“It’s fine. Clean cut.”
Tim relaxed as well. “Glad to hear it,” he said.
Jazz nodded. “Nothing to be concerned about at all. Thanks for getting the ghost shield up, Danny. I always forget which switch is the weapons and which is the shield.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. She was lying. Why was she lying?
“Yeah, no problem. We’re gonna go to the lab. Tim and his friends have self defense training, Gotham, you know? So I want to see if we have any weapons in the vault that they’d be comfortable with.”
“Great. I’m gonna be in my room. As class president, I want to try and make sure everyone is safe so I’ll be on the phone with my door shut. Knock before you enter!” Then she was running back up the stairs and slamming the door to her room.
Tim exchanged a glance with Cassie. That was weird.
But next to him, Danny let out a breath. “Okay, so she’s out of the way. Sam, you sure you’re okay?
Sam grimaced. “It stings a bit, but it’s fine. Jazz put disinfectant and antibiotic cream on it.”
“Great. Well, not great.” Danny grimaced and Sam punched him on the arm.
Tim cleared his throat. “You said something about weapons?”
Conner nodded. “Yeah, did you say you have a weapons vault?”
Danny laughed. “You saw the home defense system. Are you really surprised?”
Cassie shook her head. “Your parents are evil scientists, aren’t they?”
Danny led them down a set of stairs. “I wouldn’t call them evil. They’re just… a bit single minded.”
And then Tim was standing in their lab for the first time. It was all silver chrome and neon green accents. But worse, it was messy. Half assembled inventions were scattered haphazardly over every surface. And was that a half eaten sandwich on the bench? Ectoplasm dripped off one of the counters onto a puddle on the floor.
Sam, Tucker, and Danny walked in without concern, but Tim and his team held back.
Danny realized they weren’t following and looked back in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“No offense,” said Bart as his eyes darted around, “But, uh, is it safe?”
“What do you mean?” asked Danny, but then he looked around and noticed the mess. “Ah. Hang on a sec. I’ll get you rubber gloves and boots you can slide on over your shoes. That’ll keep you safe enough.”
Sam helped and soon enough they were passing the protective gear over. Meanwhile, Tucker sat down at a computer and pulled up the news report so they could keep tabs on what was going on.
“Can we get eye protection as well?” asked Tim once he had everything on.
“Sure. Mom and Dad have plenty of goggles.” Danny grabbed a few of those as well.
Still not entirely comfortable, Tim finally stepped into the lab. On the far wall, behind yellow and black doors was the portal he’d heard so much about.
Danny followed his gaze and put a hand on his arm. “Come on, Tim. The weapons vault is over here.”
-----
Next
This should be enough to figure out which episode I'm using as the base for this arc! It's not quite the Ghost Fight people were hoping for in the comments of the last update, but I think this is gonna be better.
Tag List Part 1
@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst, @feral-bunny31, @lunaria618, @ghostreblogging, @ace-aro-as-shit
#dpxdc#dead tired#my writing#conner: whats that you got there?#danny: a weapons vault why?#he has no clue its weird so doesnt think to hide it#its just his basement#one weapon for you and one for you and two for you#rip jazz's milkshake#damn ghosts#i am very tired#and my tags reflect that
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Like His Costume?
This is my kid, Tommy, and he's so excited to be Trick-or-Treating. He might seem a bit old, but that's just because he's wearing the city's Fire Chief as his costume. He's always dreamed of being a firefighter when he grows up. Just look how happy he is in that body!
I discovered my son's powers for astral projection a few months ago, and he's been jumping from body to body ever since. I tried to restrict when and who he's allowed to jump into, but it's not easy raising a little superhero.
"Mom!" Tommy whines with the fireman's surprisingly gravelly voice, "Hurry up and get the picture! I want to keep Trick-or-treating!"
I shake my head and snap the picture quickly before my baby gallops away to the nearest house. He nearly trips over the firefighter's heavy feet as he races up the steps. Tommy's been wearing that man all day and he still hasn't gotten used to the body or the clunky uniform. It's adorable.
"Trick-or-Treat!" he grins eagerly.
The couple behind the door recoil from the grown man holding out his bag of candy, but they ultimately relent and drop some chocolate in. Tommy licks his lips and runs off to the next house.
"Tommy! Don't go so fast," I call, "And say thank you next time!"
He runs the fireman's body from house to house to collect candy as fast as possible. It's a good thing my kid has so much energy because I don't know how those guys are supposed to run around in those heavy suits all day long.
"Mom, I'm hot," he complains, shuffling back in my direction.
"Better get used to it if you want to be a firefighter, young man," I chuckle back.
"I don't think I want to, anymore," he pouts.
Before I can add anything else, Tommy's eyes light up. I can practically see the lightbulb appear over his head. I turn towards what's caught his eye and see a police officer directing the traffic at the intersection.
"Tommy, don't!" I stiffly demand.
...but Tommy's already gone. The firefighter's mind is free once again, leaving the man looking confused and rubbing his forehead. He groans something to me about not knowing where he is, but I snatch my son's candy bag from his hands and stomp away.
"Thanks for grabbing my candy, mom," Tommy squeals cheerfully inside the cop.
"Tommy, you know you're not supposed to jump bodies without telling me!"
The officer's childish grin falters, and his eyes roll in annoyance. Tommy's already getting so rebellious!
"Did you just roll your eyes at me, mister!" I raise my voice.
"No," the officer's broad shoulders curl up defensively.
I let Tommy visit a few more houses wearing the police officer. Everyone who comes to the door is more than a little confused by the grown cop begging for candy on their doorstep, but they give him candy without hesitation. I suppose they aren't willing to question the authority of the uniform.
"Alright, buddy," I call, "Time to go home."
"One more house?" he whines, stomping the officer's shiny boot on the sidewalk.
I insist and grab his hand, leading him back home. He pouts the whole way back, but his face lights up when he sees his father's car pulling in the driveway.
When, my husband steps out, I notice his exhausted face from a long day at the office. He locks eyes with me and is about to say hello when his expression warps into one of juvenile delight.
"Daddy's home!" my husband suddenly sings, dropping his briefcase to clap his hands.
"Tommy!" I scold, "You know your father's body is off limits! How many times to I have to tell you?"
I grab the bag of candy from the stunned policeman and drag my husband's body all the way into the house. This is the fifth time this week he's been possessed by Tommy. I hate seeing my man acting like a child, but he's always been Tommy's favorite person to jump into.
I thought letting the kid stretch his legs in a couple other bodies would make him cool down but I guess not. I slump onto the couch for a moment to think, catching a glimpse of Tommy already stuffing his father's mouth with all the Halloween candy he'd gotten.
"Tommy stop! You're going to give your dad a tummy ache!"
Tommy rolls his eyes and leaves his dad's body. My husband gasps as he regains control over himself. His tired expression returns as he looks up from the candy, chocolate smeared across his cheeks. He stands and let's out a long sigh. I can tell he's getting tired of this happening over and over again.
If raising Tommy is their hard now, how difficult it will be when he gets older?
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kinktober | cam girl - j.h.
kinktober day seven - sex work
pairing: jim hopper x plus size!camgirl!reader
wc: 3.33k
summary: when you hosted a halloween raffle for your customers on your cam site, it just so happened to be that the winner was your own chief of police — jim hopper.
warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NOT welcome, NO AGE = BLOCKED! sex work, cam girl!reader, dirty talk, slight knifeplay, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, penetration (sex toys), squirting, mentions of fake blood
an: this is VERY late. please forgive me as i try to catch up LMFAOOOO enjoy!!!!
all reblogs, likes and comments are very appreciated! please give ur feed back!!
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JIM WAS A DIFFERENT MAN behind his uniform and badge, he was a different man when it was just him alone, his laptop, his solace.
he was a hungry man, who hadn’t felt much of a woman’s touch in a while. not since work got heavier, days got longer— he didn’t have the energy to look for a companion. to hopper, he didn’t feel like the hottest man in town.
getting older, gaining a little weight, being a little too mean to anyone he didn’t know – being alone seemed inevitable.
but he found comfort in something. it was his guilty pleasure, as people would say. but he didn’t feel guilty, because stumbling upon a certain cam girl site led him to you.
it wasn’t ideal. the idea of sharing your body for the world to watch and see was deathly terrifying. but the money. when you were in your early teens you always felt ugly, everyone made it known to you that fat was ugly. they tried to convince you to hate yourself, and they did.
but then you got older, you turned eighteen, and then you were twenty three — in a grown woman's body. but the attention you got now felt forced, only because it was new to you. you found that people would pay to watch you naked, see you play with yourself, spend hundreds just to get on the phone with you.
doing this for a while you learned how to not get discouraged, or tired of it. this week was especially long for you, sitting at a desk typing in numbers all day, but then saturday came around.
halloween. your favorite holiday, and in the spirit you were doing halloween deals on your page. you had a decent amount of following, over one thousand people who subscribed to you, paying monthly just to access your videos and photos.
you lived under the name of theevxmpg1rl, something that’d been a username since you were younger for your social medias, but described you still.
you situated yourself in front of your camera, clicking on your computer until the camera got you in full frame, sitting on your knees with a bloodied kitchen knife in your hand. you were wearing the tightest white dress that hugged your rolls and pressed your breasts so they sat firm.
the white button up dress that came just below your ass was soiled with fake blood, you even added a little nurse’s hat to try to put some sense behind the outfit. you were going for a silent hill nurse kind of vibe, just without the gauze. still, you knew and that’s all that mattered.
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jim was home alone again, laying in nothing but his boxers with his laptop directly on his lap. jim was one of th many men who joined the halloween raffle you announced at the beginning of the week, and it wasn’t until it was eleven fifteen on halloween night when he got a notification.
congratulations! you’ve been selected as the winner of theevxmpg1rl’s halloween raffle! please follow the link below to join the video chat!
jim had to read it a few times back before adjusting himself in front of the camer once he followed the link, which prompted him to a screen that does the audio and visual checks. jim clicked the camera off, a little nervous to be on chat with you and only you.
it was only two minutes when he saw you pop up on screen. smiling as you adjusted your dress lower, you looked at the familiar username that popped up in your chats a lot.
“hi there, congratulations on winning this little raffle i had going,” you said and waited to see a face on screen, instead just a black profile picture.
“uh, thank you.” jim said hesitantly, feeling himself grow half hard at the way you were dressed.
“so, you have forty minutes with just me, do you have any ideas of how you want to spend those forty minutes?” you said with seduction, hoping maybe he’d take open the camera.
“you look real pretty sittin’ like that,” he said in a low voice, the stranger’s voice booming through your laptop. you felt the bass in his voice hit straight to your core.
you blushed, smiled and looked down at your knees, “thank you.”
jim was getting more comfortable by the minute, watching you squirm and he hadn’t even shown you what he looked like. he was nervous that you’d recognize him, that is if you lived in the area, but luckily he didn’t need to show his face. he pointed the webcam downwards so that it cut off at his neck, and sat back against the headboard to show you what he knew you were wanting.
he was admiring the way your body was shaped, every roll and inch of thickness that was added on your body made his cock stiffen. there was just so much of you, all for his eyes in this moment.
“why don’t you stand up and take that little costume off, yeah?” he asked, and you obliged with a fit of butterflies in your belly.
it wasn’t until you used the kitchen knife to pry the buttons of when you saw the picture flash into an actual video feed, with a gruff man in frame but only from the neck below. you were okay with this, because when you fixed the camera you were able to see that he had is large hand in his boxers, stroking himself to you.
it spurred you on, furthering the wetness between your thighs and you managed to take the bloodied dress off, leaving you in a black lace underwear set. the blood from the dress stained your skin, but jim didn’t mind. you being in the spirit made him smile, and groan at the sight of you doing a three sixty, bending over once you show him the fullness of your ass.
“you’re fuckin’ unbelieveable,” jim breathed out, catching the authority in his voice without missing a beat.
“would you like me to take anything else off, sir?”
it startled him a bit, and his hand gripped the shaft of his girthy manhood, watching as you teased your fingers with the waistband.
“cut those fuckin’ panties off, baby,” he ordered, and like an obedient girl you were, you took the kitchen knife carefully as you stood up and turned back to face the webcam, sliding it under the fabric nd sawing through the lace. you repeated that on the other side and spread your legs a little so they could fall to the floor.
you dragged the tip of the knife up the thickness of your thighs, scrapping it against the curves in your belly, up your waist and over the cups of your bra.
“you know, i wasn’t always a fan of blades,” you trailed as you moved the blade behind your back, turning and wedging the blade under the stretchy fabric of the band, “but i feel like maybe i’m starting to like a little danger,”
you looked over your shoulder as you cut through the band and let the bra go loose, sliding off of your arms.
jim took in the shape of your back, the way it curved at the waist and how your ass looked from behind, thinking of all of the ways he’d make you beg him to stop with tears in your eyes.
“yeah, ‘s that right sweetheart?” he asked behind the screen and you turned, letting the ruined bra fall to the floor.
you stood in front of your camera that sat on your dresser, pretty halloween lights surrounding your room and coloring you red and orange.
“mhm,” you hummed in agreement, feeling your cunt pulse at the sight of him freeing his hardness from his boxers.
it was a little above average size, but the thickness of him made your mouth water. he looked heavy, almost impossible to take in your throat without feeling the searing stretch.
“fuck, you’re so thick, i love how pretty your cock looks,” you flutter, dropping the knife and pressing your tits together for him.
“you think so? think i have a pretty cock?” he asked and you nodded, loving that he could see all of you but you were still wondering who this mystery man was.
your customers had no obligation to show you their face or even turn their cameras on, but for some reason you were yearning for a face.
“i think so,” you smiled and sat on the edge of your bed that was positioned in front of the dresser.
“fuck, just like that, let me see you spread those pretty legs for me,” he groaned, his hand pumping his thickness in his palm, wet with spit.
jim was too eager, he felt, too eager to see all of you.
“what do you want me to do, sir? do you want me to play with myself?” you asked nervously, with sultry added to your voice.
“i want you to cum with me, baby, don’t cum until i tell you to, you got that?” he firmed up, moving his hand to his mouth to spit more and rub it on his angry head.
“but,” you started and he cut you off.
“it’s yes or no sweetheart,”
“yes,” you said, defeatedly.
“yes what?” he urged again, and you bit your lip as you opened your legs further to show him the slick gathering between the fat of your lips.
“yes sir,”
he watched you grab pillows from where your headboard was, and stacked them to lean on and sit with your knees to your chest.
“do you want me to use a toy?” you asked coyly.
jim thought about it, and felt his cock throb at the image.
“yes baby, grab one of your dildos, can you do that?” he asked softly, the fluttering in your stomach only growing as you smiled and reached over to your night stand.
you opened the drawer to pull out a neon pink dildo that was not nearly as thick as him, but well endowed enough for you to feel full, as full as you could feel without the real thing.
“you’re fucking pretty like that, love watching you fuck yourself dumb,” jim admitted and you bit your lip, bringing the tip of the fake cock to rub between your lips and against your clit.
jim was imagining it as himself, teasing your tight hole until he finally gets wet enough with your juices to slide inside. he wanted to be the one filling you up and watching you squeeze around his cock.
“you’re one of my top customers, sir, do you watch me a lot?” you asked in a breath as you watched him pump his swollen cock, and moved the shaft of the pink toy between your cunt lips.
watching the way your cunt sucked the toy in without even sliding inside of you made his leg twitch, moving it to bend at the knee as he stroked tighter.
“i do, baby. can’t help it when you have such a pretty, thick fuckin’ pussy,” he breathed, sitting up a bit more, “fuck, i think you’d look real nice sittin’ on my cock, get you soakin’ me,”
you saw the slight chub of his belly, the hair on his chest and the thickness of his thighs — all manly.
the hair on his arms and the thickness of his fingers wrapping around his shaft to jerk himself off, ignoring the burning desire to see the man behind the username. it was causing you to clench around nothing as you leaned back on the stack of pillows, letting on hand squeeze at your breast and the other guiding the tip of the toy to stretch your hole.
“that’s it, honey, let me see how much you can take,” he said gruffly, a low rasp in his voice that added to the powerful aura. he seemed like he was used to being in charge, getting what he wanted, knowing how to get what he wants.
all you wanted right now was to be what he wanted.
“mmphf, fuck, i-,” you gasped as you sunk the toy further into your cunt, “-haven’t fucked in a long time,”
jim groaned at that, watching how your cunt stretched around the toy the further you welcomed it inside of you.
“aw,” he cooed and you heard the slick rhythm of his hand stroking his cock, “i bet you wished you did meet ups yeah? i don’t see how anyone wouldn’t wanna fuck that pretty face,”
“fuck, fuck so good, ‘s fuckin’ good,” you moaned and bucked your hips as you tried to copy the same pace jim was going.
when he realized this, he felt his balls tighten and let out a throaty moan.
“oh fuck, you need this cock that bad? tell me sweet girl, tell me you need me,”
you did what he asked for. you weren’t going to say no.
“yes! yes sir! please, i need you, need your thick fucking cock inside me,” you cried as you threw your head back, the juices around your toy gathering to tell the entire neighborhood how wet a random man on the internent had you.
“oh baby, you sound so fucking pretty, so needy,” he taunted and you could practically hear the smile on his words.
“cus’ i need you, need your dick,” you cried as you pushed the toy deep inside you, hitting a spot that sent twinges to your clit.
“think about you suckin’ me off, honey, all the time, any time i can,” he admitted through the computer and your body responded to his.
you watched as his sloppy fist pumped around his cock, throbbing for you as you continued your pace with your dildo. you pulled the cock all the way out of your hole, just to prod the tip between your pussy lips and fuck your hole with just the tip.
“fuck,” you cried, feeling an unusual build up in your tummy, “want your cock, want it so bad,”
jim was watching you fuck yourself, the way you fucked your hole with just the head of the fake cock and watched you play with your nipples. it was too much, so much to take in from you and he groaned loudly, watching as you started to squirm.
“fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you chanted and jim tsked.
“not yet baby, what did i say?” he ordered and you whined, moving your other hand down to rub firm circles with two fingers on your clit.
“doing so good, come on, talk to me princess.” he asked and you cried, clearing your throat.
“please, let me cum on your cock, let me soak it please, i wanna cum for you, just you, wanna show you how much i need your cock,” you moaned, imagining his thickness filling you up until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“so fucking big, so thick, gonna stretch me out so much sir,” you added and he grunted, his fist massaging at his head as he thrusts into his palm.
“fuck, fuck baby go on, cum for me, let me see you cum on that cock,” he strained as he neared his own orgasm, watching the desperation in your eyes turn to glee.
your fingers rubbed firmer, faster and you moved the dildo to slowly slide back inside of you and when you felt the stretch again — you let out a throaty cry when you felt the tension of your release break.
“oh my ff-” you tried, “cumming, ‘m cumming,”
something inside you snapped, and the tension in your lower belly spread through your body as chills ran over and you heard something sort of a faucet running.
but it was just you, making a mess over your bed and letting this man watch as you squirted for him on the dildo. your legs shook and trembled as heat flooded your face, eyes rolling back and letting your body convulse at his doing.
“oh fuck,” he grunted, thrusting one last time into his fist before he lets spurts of cum hit his belly, wincing with every stroke and calling just for you. watching you had been one of the best things he’s seen in a while, and only made the need to have you even stronger.
like that’d ever happen.
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stepping into the new holiday season took a lot out of you, especially with going to the supermarket for christma decorations a little towards the middle of november.
you went in for a couple of things only, not focusing on the rest of the world just about what you need. of course, until you got so distracted you back up into a tall, full figure.
you turn in the aisle, scanning up the frame you bumped into and meeting with a beige police uniform, and up to the unshaven face of jim hopper. of course you didn’t know who he was, but he knew who you were. you were too entranced by the roundness of his face and the mustache that sat on his top lip, until he raised his eyebrow at you.
“oh! i’m so sorry, sir, i just wasn’t paying attention,” you blushed and his throat tightened at the formal name you gave him.
there was no way you’d know it was him that night, the one that watched you squirt for him. so he needed to play it cool, especially finally seeing you in person. full, luscious and gorgeous — clothes hugging every curve that he’d have memorized.
“it’s alright honey, honest mistake, yeah?” he says, his frame towering over you.
“yeah,” you said shyly and looked down the aisle under his gaze, “honest mistake.” he was gorgeous, sculpted like a man who could protect you if need be. he made you nervous and it wasn’t just because he was the chief. according to his badge, at least.
“are ya new in town?” he asked, moving his hat off of his head and into his cart he had.
“sort of, didn’t even really know they had an actual police department here.” you said, half joking. it was a small town, and seemed a little run down.
jim just chuckled, and shook his finger at you, “you’re funny,”
you just blushed, putting the christmas lights you held in your hands in the basket. he watched your every movement, watched you turn and face him again while you inhaled and exhaled. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
“well, i better get going. have a good day, sir.” you smiled, pushing your basket down the aisle as he watched you leave.
“have a good day, honey. let me know if you ever need anything.”
you just smiled and thanked him, turning back and walking to turn into another aisle. he itched to see you again, needing to hear your voice in person again.
that night you got a message from the same user who gave you butterflies in your stomach, and who watched you strip bare for him on halloween night.
should be careful who you bump into these days, honey. didn’t want to say anything in person so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but you’re even prettier in person. you know where to drop by if you ever need some help.
you hiccuped, instantly typing back to the man in uniform.
that was you? you’re the chief?
he responded swiftly, quickly.
does that make you uncomfortable?
you grinned at the text box, moving your fingers around the keyboard.
no actually, i might have to drop by the station now that i think about it. need a little bit of extra help from one of the guys there, you wouldn’t know anyone who could be of service do you?
i do, actually. he’s the chief, just call this number here and he’ll get to you as soon as possible, baby.
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TAGLIST
@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley
still doing my taglist, and i'll be adding it under every kinktober fic from now on! let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore!
#plus size smut#smut#fat girls#chubby smut#plus size reader#jim hopper x plus size reader#jim hopper smut#jim hopper#stranger things s4#stranger things#stranger things au#st4#female reader#fluff#kinktober 2023#kinktober#kinktober masterlist#x reader#jim x reader#curvy#body positive#chubby#big tiddy committee
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under the influence. jean kirstein.
୭ warnings . . . fem!reader, officer!jean, lowercase intended, black coded, hot sweaty car sex, public indecency, oral ꒰ m received ꒱, jean’s rough bc he is, mild degradation, jean’s your ex, reader rides jean, impact play, jean’s a titty sucker srry i don’t make the rules.
୭ mocha’s note .ᐟ . . . men in uniform. yes. also y’all know exactly what song that title is. ;)
hues of blue and scarlet flicker over the body of your obsidian lexus rc 300, the vechicle behind you blaring the sirens like they’re eardrum killers purposely meant to burst them. you hated those fucking things. police even more. huffing after wiping the tears off your face, you pull to the side of the empty road. it’s extremely late at night. more-so early, around three in the morning. checking your rear view mirror, you spot the black camaro with an officer stepping out of it. just my fucking luck. as if you weren’t already having a shitty night. kissing your teeth, you sniffle as you roll down your window before reaching into your glove compartment for your license and registration. you’re not exactly sure why you’re being pulled over to be frank.
the officer strolls towards your car, a tall, lanky man whose wearing a black long sleeve which hugs his muscles and sharp cut abs with dark jeans and heavy boots. the belt around his hips is thick and leather . . . expensive looking. when he’s by the window to your vehicle, you turn to see his appearance. dewy pink lips plush as cotton. fawn long hair that brushes on the nape of his neck. a messy stubble on his jawline that shifts as he chews his gum. he didn’t have a badge, nor a holster on his hips with a gun or a taser. however, he did have on a loose vest with multiple pockets. maybe he was off duty and you ruined his drive home? his scent is strong, recognizable even. bleu de chanel. makes the hair on your skin rise. his eyes are what really draw you in. low and dark, like a dravite tourmaline.
“i knew it was you.”
a pang in your chest makes it nearly hard to breathe. you had to blink several times to decipher his image. you knew this man for sure. those lips of his curl into a lopsided grin as he witnesses your saddened eyes expanding. your fingertips slowly glide off your steering wheel as your hands drop into your lap. the man before you, your ex boyfriend, turns his neck sideways before spitting out his gum into the road. he has one hand on his hip and the other in his back pocket, now aware of the gun tucked in the back of his jeans. he’s definitely off duty. the car he’s driving is an undercover cop car.
“can’t speak to me?” jean prompts louder as if you couldn’t hear him the first time. “i’ve told you fifty times about that taillight, baby. how come it isn’t fixed yet?”
jesus this really isn’t a good night. of all the people you’ve encountered today, your ex had to be one of them. a cop scared you enough. but him? he terrified you. in all the right ways. sounds crazy, but there’s a reason.
“i see you followed through with your training.”
“did. i see you’re still hardheaded.”
“am.”
jean rolls his eyes. “that’s beside the point. why are you driving like you’re under the influence? you’ve been drinking?”
“no, i haven’t. sorry, i’m just . . . in my head,” he watches you sigh, noticing the puffiness in your eyes along with a hint of redness. you’ve been crying. it’s clear as day. jean cocks his head to the side, getting closer to your window, resting an arm on the hood of your car.
“what’s going on?” a genuine tone in his voice makes you cower. you didn’t need it. not from him that’s for sure.
“don’t worry about it. just give me a ticket so i can go home.”
he doesn’t appreciate the stern, cold tone in your voice. handing him your papers like he’s a stranger, a regular cop. not a man you’ve dated for five years. he’s seen every aspect of you. every breakdown, laugh, trauma. every freckle on your body. knows the way you like it. maybe you didn’t patch things up the right way, but that doesn’t make it okay for you to act like he doesn’t mean anything to you. fucking brat.
“is it so bad to worry about you?” his jaw clenches in fury, inching his face closer to yours, head sticking entirely into your space. you pull your face back, eyeing him like he’s crazy, baffled by his action.
“get out of my car.”
“i’m not in it. now shut the fuck up and tell me what happened. clearly you’re not okay. you’re swerving like you’re drunk plus you’ve been crying. i see it.”
the assertiveness he gives you almost makes you melt in your seat, not hearing his voice in so long, sometimes craving it. it’s like a warm cup of hot chocolate. smooth and comforting. your lower lip gets taken between your teeth before you’re inhaling and exhaling.
“this guy i’ve been fucking with just told me he had a girlfriend, so. we got into this huge fight and he broke my glasses which is why i can’t see all that good right now. i’m just trying to get home to forget about it.”
the look on his face is empty. “he hit you?”
immediately, you deny. “n-no. i mean, he grabbed me to try and apologize and my glasses fell and he stepped on them by accident.”
remembering it made you hug yourself, feeling his fingertips squeezing your arms harshly once again. jean looks there and sees a few bruises. your skin was really sensitive, so you bruised over anything.
“step out of the car.”
you blink. “what?”
“you heard me the first time.”
clearly, it doesn't seem as if he'll give up until you do. rolling your eyes, you do what you’re told, jean stepping back as you aggressively swing open your car door, stepping out with your arms hugging yourself considering you’re only wearing a cream flower lily sundress with white sandals. jean couldn’t help his lingering stare. you’ve always been outrageously beautiful to him.
“it’s really none of your concern.”
“god, i forgot how much you talked,” the tiny ‘tch’ coming from him before he’s pulling you in for a tight, comforting hug has you falling back into the same entrapment of passion. jean broke up with you because he didn’t want a relationship anymore. he wanted to work on himself, his life, pay more attention to his family and the baby girl he had with an ex of his. the reason why he terrified you is simple; you loved him too damn much that it hurt you to your core. to let him go. to be alone again. you hated him for leaving you.
“missed your pretty self,” now he's stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb endearingly, rolling his lips inwardly when your eyes meet his.
“do you?” it comes out softer than you intended. small. he makes you feel so goddamn small, safe, and secure.
“yeah,” he breathes.
it's frustrating sometimes when your body reacts before your mind does. dainty hands reaching to skim across his waist you then grab onto, bringing him closer until your back is pressed up to your car. jean’s face remains stagnant. not sure of what to do. actually, he preferred to see what you were intending. truth is, you didn't know. if you wanted to rant about how he left you. kiss him and tell him to take you home. or get on your knees and worship him just because.
“are you with her?” your bottom lip juts out as you impel your chest to his. jean takes a minute to understand the question. you must've meant her.
“no. never. we're just co-parenting.”
“promise you haven't fucked her. not once after we split?” jean groans as the hazel in his eyes turn murkier, your face no longer in his. instead, you're bug-eyed with the bulge in his jeans. unlatching his buckle and pushing all your weight onto the car behind you as you balance yourself on your calfs.
“just one time. didn't mean anything,” jean is blunt about it causing you to raise your brow the same time you're dragging down his zipper. he doesn't so much as glance around to check for any unexpected company. it's nearly four in the morning and you're off the road near a forest of trees. no one was coming.
“was it good?” he swears to god he almost busts right there, clenching his jaw as you stick out your salivated tongue, hand wrapped around the base of his thick, hardened cock, a tear droplet of precum on the head. it's pulsating in your palm, and you mewl, wetting your lips with allure.
“i c-can't remember,” jean hisses as the warmth of your mouth intakes him, batting your curled lashes and glaring into his eyes as the vein on the underside of his cock is caressed by your tongue. he's somewhat in your mouth, resting heavy on your slippery tongue before you pull back and lap at the tip. jean’s physique is arched over you, forehead nearly grazing the hood of your vehicle.
“try,” now your hands reside on the back of his thighs, gathering enough saliva to spit over his dick, dragging it along with your pursed lips on either side, waiting for him to speak.
jean bites his lips so hard he curses, sucking on the blood seeping out, bucking his hips to thrust into your mouth. since you move back again, it makes him suck his teeth. big hands holding either side of your head before he's giving you a dark stare you hadn't seen in a minute. it makes you squirm. submitting easily.
“stick that lil’ tongue out,” he rasps, slicking his own over his bitten red lip. “you have to be polite, princess.”
it kills you to hear him speak to you like this. every spoken word foreign. you seriously don't know what came over you. too many emotions hitting you at once. seeing him, smelling him, holding him . . . you wanted him. no, needed him. obeying as you do, you stretch your mouth wider to fit him in deeper. jean mumbles a low ‘there we go, girl’, swallowing his spit and shifting his gut to fuck your mouth as he pleased. he's pressing your head against the door, your eyes wide and lashes specked with tears, jean grunting the faster he fucks your throat. you're breathing through your nose as best as you can, clutching onto him for support, unable to squeeze your thighs like you needed to ease the excessive throbbing.
he's by far one of the prettiest men you've met in your lifetime. moans even more lovely. drool slicks down the side of your chin, the color in your pupils shifting as your eyes lose focus. jean warns you under a brief choke, telling you ‘hold your breath’ before he's shoving his dick entirely down your throat. you claw at his thigh, gagging as he stays there for a few more seconds before pulling back. you gasp dramatically, swallowing the remainder of your saliva with his dick springing in your face, catching your breath.
“good fuckin’ girl,” he's petting the side of your face before helping you stand, your knees burning from being crouched down for so long. they were gonna burn more when you found out how he was going to have you next.
in your backseat, door shut and lights off. jean’s on his back, pants still clinging to his waist as your body pounces above him, clit occasionally brushing against the dark happy trail on his pelvis as you bounced on his dick with every inch of your body burning and screaming at you. chest rumbling from your euphoric screeches. ass clapping heavily on his bulky thighs as you grip onto the headrest of the passenger seat, the other on the back seat. jumping like his cute bunny while your tits are in his starved mouth. rushing his hot tongue over your nipples, teeth sinking in gently. sucking and pulling with his lips as he studies you with exhilaration.
“who's a good cock whore for daddy?” jean hums, a free hand swatting your ass for the fifth time now, encased by heat. feels like it's swollen. the yelp you exude makes him weak. you're so fucking sexy it makes no goddamn sense. “huh?”
“me, baby!” you sniffle cutely, slowing down and sitting down fully, gyrating, losing your balance.
“unh uh,” jean slaps your ass, your scream defeaning. “who said to stop? keep fucking going.”
the car is hot, no doubt. doesn't help that the windows aren't down and your seats are leather. jean’s lower back is sticky with sweat. his gear still on, shirt lifted only to his midsection. gun inside of your center console for safety. a broken whine falters from you as you rise up again, shifting your legs so one foot is flat on the floor and the other by his torso. he grabs that leg, keeping your knee bent once you find your pace again.
“s’in my tummy,” both of you look there in sync, jean snickering when you whine. it’s too dark to notice but both of you could feel it.
“clear as day, sweetheart. it's what makes me so proud of you. taking all my dick likes it's yours to own.”
“it is mine,” you pout sadly.
“mmm,” he tongues his inner cheek before grinning. “you want it back?”
it dawns on you for a second, realizing what he really meant. gulping, you nod. real you will have a conversation with yourself later. you’re dick drunk right now. totally different person.
“show me, then we'll decide.”
his girl. it’s what you are, how you feel. that’s the title that’ll always be yours to hold. doesn’t matter what happens between you two. who may interfere. you’re jean’s girl until death. that’s your man. and you made sure to fuck him good just so he could remember that. picking yourself up and dropping your ass down harder, faster. jean’s hissing, brows bent as he fists your dress he tightened on your stomach rougher. he can’t control himself when he helps you out by lifting his hips to collide with the flush of your skin, groaning deeply, jaw slacking.
“take your fucking dick, baby. take your fuckin’ dick,” jean growls by your ear after you fall forward, crying extremely loud it scares him for a second, thinking you’re in pain. it just so happens you’re overwhelmed with pleasure, the octave in your tone raising higher. it’s a noise he’s never, ever heard emit from you before. it stuns him, so bewildered by it that he halts completely.
“jean, m’ . . . ” it’s too fast the way you switch your position. bringing both your knees on either side of his slim figure, clutching his long hair, pleading and whimpering in his neck. you entire body’s trembling. “pleaseplease.”
jean listens to your sign without hesitation. angling his body to drill his cock into you while holding you down with his arm thrown around your waist, foot implanted on the seat while his other hand spread your cheeks apart, fingers sprawled over your hot skin. balls slapping as your sluice pussy covers his dick. when you cum you’re absolutely gone. laying your forehead against the door, shaking, screaming, crying. all of it is just what he needs cum on the globes of your ass, pulling out swiftly and moaning into your chest.
“you don't know what you do to me.”
visual. visual.
. . . taglist; @dejwrites @indiecursor @massivelynervousprincess @gabzlovesu @emomanswhore @sanwioz @taesd-urag @anajah @rinhoes @festive @erentoes @erenyeagerswhore @caribbeanwifey19 @yooniluvbot444 @cinnitsuki @hannas16 @bubs-world @sintiva @yoshimurah @sailewhoremoon
© 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.
#jean kirstein x reader#jean smut#jean x y/n#jean x you#jean x reader#snk smut#aot smut#aot jean#snk jean#shingeki no kyojin smut#jean kirstein x black reader#jean kirstein x you#jean kirstein smut#jean imagine#jean x black!reader#anime smut#shingeki no kyoujin imagine#☆. hellavile.
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Scenario inspired from the tag on your last anon: becoming a menace to the town and causing minor inconveniences just so you could see the lawyer again 😂😂😂
no bc lets be for real. it would be so much fun.
i can see it: you’re young (at least compared to the average age demographic of the town lmao) and not to mention bored. the first time you had gotten in trouble was entirely an accident—how were you supposed to know that the farmer moved his cattle to a different pasture while his fence got mended? and how were you supposed to know you were technically trespassing on said property? you don’t recall seeing any markers, and besides, you were just going on a casual walk with your dog. and that very dog may or may not have charged the cows before you had a chance to tighten your hold on the lead. hence, the trouble came when one of the younger calves was minority wounded by a quick bite from your dog.
and that is how you first met maître vincent renzi. you were sat in the town’s small police station, just finishing up the written portion of your statement when he walked in. and goddamn it. as much as you hated your dog right now, you wanted to thank it because how else would you have come to meet a man like that. (under better circumstances, ideally).
“bonjour,” his voice was deep, matching the depth of his eyes as they watched you. then he continued in english, “my name is vincent, i’ll be representing you in court.”
as thrilled as you were to be introducing yourself to such a handsome man, you instantly groaned in disbelief. “that old shit is actually taking this to court?”
and that, is how you came to know the man who now groans every time he sees you wander into the office, a shy smile and hand scratching the back of your neck as you explain how you kinda need him to talk you out of a minor trouble with your landlord again. or how you didn’t mean to park in the wrong spot and need help navigating how to contest a parking violation. or (his personal favorite) how were you supposed to know that in france it’s illegal to snap a picture of a policeman in uniform? (he was cute and you wanted to brag to your friends, sue you).
needless to say, you’ve become a face vincent has to suppress a groan every time he sees. he’d never admit it, but he does find it mildly humoring the type of shit you manage to get yourself into.
#ꕤ ₊˚✧ mailbox .#❀₊˚✧ thots .#this was fun lmao#i have a fear of being in trouble UNLESS that trouble is vincent aka hot lawyer from anatomy of a fall#swann arlaud#anatomy of a fall#vincent renzi#anatomie d'une chute#anatomy of a fall vincent
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Last Halloween: Chapter 15
Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
You waited for Jessie to get to the station before you got out of your car. The second you saw her face you felt empowered by her presence, alone. There were two of you now, and you knew realistically there were four of you.
"Jess, thank you," you said, giving her a hug. She immediately removed the folded up piece of paper from the back pocket of her jeans.
"I hate to even let anyone else see this," she said, passing it over to you.
"This was hanging on the cork board in the coffee shop," you explained.
"Fuck this town," Chrissy breathed the words.
"Fuck a handful of people in this town," you corrected her, walking fast toward the entrance to the police station. "I want to get Joel's story out there so *they* are the outcasts. I just don't know how to do that."
The two of you burst through the doors and into the station where a woman in uniform sat behind a desk with a cup of coffee, typing away at a computer. Her eyes lifted when you entered and she stopped what she was doing to address you both.
"Can I help you?" She rose to her feet.
"Hi." You squinted to read the rectangular name tag on her chest. "Officer Tate." You were thankful a female officer was on duty. "I'd like to report harassment."
..
Joel walked across the dusty lot, wiping some sweat from his forehead with his arm. Despite the chill in the air, the physical nature of the job had him rolling up his sleeves.
"Hey, kid," Ronnie addressed him, despite only been ten years older. "I'm not one to eavesdrop but your friend there, the girl, has called you a few times and your phone's been buzzing with text messages. Only saw it because it's plugged into my computer."
"What'd they say?" He removed a pair of gloves and headed toward the office door between two garage bays.
"I tried not to read them. Not my business but I did see one that asked you to call her whenever you got the message."
"Thanks, Ron." Joel hurried inside, wondering wha was going on and hoping no one was hurt.
He read through the series of messages first and felt his a rage brew through him as he pictured Vic Champagne's face.
"You mother fucker." Joel typed frantically back, agreeing to meet at the police station; though in the back of his mind he had the urge to swing by Vic's house on the ride over.
"Is everything alright?" Ronnie had entered the office just after hearing Joel's reaction.
"I gotta go to the police station." Joel balled his fists and had the urge to swipe everything off the desk. He wouldn't dare. Not when it was Ronnie who would suffer from the outburst.
"Is everyone alright?"
"Physically." Joel nodded and let out a deep breath. "Tell me not to go to Vic Champagne's house and kick the ever loving shit out of him."
"Don't go to Vic Champagne's house and kick the ever loving shit out of him," Ronnie echoed. He walked up to Joel and put a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever's going on, go take care of the people who matter. Don't seek vengeance on the people who don't."
Ronnie's words sobered him up. They brought Joel's inner need to spiral out of control down a notch. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then reopened them.
"Here." Ronnie dangled a set of car keys in front of him. "Take my truck. I'm in the middle of doing an oil change on your bike. It needed it."
"Thank you." Joel nodded. He squeezed the keys in his hand, hard enough to feel the discomfort of the metal teeth against his palm.
"Don't go to the Champagne house," Ronnie repeated in a tone that was a combination of fatherly and friendly.
Joel nodded again and then hurried to the edge of the lot near the gate where Ronnie parked and burst out of the place, speeding off toward the police station.
It wasn't more than fifteen minutes later that an old, red Mustang with the top down entered the junk yard. It was so stealthy that Ronnie hadn't realized anyone had pulled up until they were walking into the bay where he worked on Joel's motorcycle.
"Can I help ya?" He asked, setting a pan down where the old oil had drained. Ronnie brushed his hands together as if it might get the blotches of oil off of his skin.
"Yeah, gunna need an oil change and tire rotation."
Ronnie was about to respond when a second man entered the garage.
"Oh, and we're going to need you to hire some new employees," the second man spoke.
Ronnie looked directly at the second man. Vic Champagne.
"Well, speak of the Devil."
"You know what I mean when I say that right?" Vic challenged, walking past his beta wolf partner in crime.
"Vic.. leave the kid alone," Ronnie spoke calmly.
"Leave the kid alone?" He huffed a sinister and exasperated laugh. "Look, this time of year is causing me to have some serious PTSD." He smirked as he said that as if not believing it, himself. "I'm just working on strategies that may make me, ya know, feel better." Vic flashed a villainous grin.
"All I can offer you is the oil change and tire rotation," Ronnie told him. "Would you like to make an appointment? I'm like two weeks out."
"You're two weeks out." Vic looked down and whispered the words with a little laugh.
"What are you looking for here, Vic?" Ronnie put his hands out to the sides and at the same time switched his gaze to the motorcycle.
"Is this his?" He smirked and answered his own question. "Yeah, that's his." Vic's eyes scanned the room and he rushed to grab an oversized hammer from a toolbox.
Ronnie stood in his path as he moved towards Joel's bike. "Get out of here," he instructed, though was bombarded by Vic's lackey from behind, who tackled his stocky body to the ground.
Vic laughed wildly, like a rabid hyena, and proceed to take the hammer to the mirrors of the motorcycle, and then to every other part he could demolish and dent until the bike was almost unrecognizable. Ronnie shouted at him as he wrestled with the other man oh the ground.
"One more thing." Vic kicked Ronnie in the face on the walk by and grabbed a knife, slicing his way through both tires. When he was through he was breathing heavy with another satisfied smile on his face.
His sidekick lifted Ronnie's head up by his air, purposely yanking on it to cause him more discomfort. "If Joel Miller still works for you by tomorrow, this ain't the last you'll see of us."
Vic kicked the bike over and waved with his fingers for the other guy to join him. The two of them hopped back into the red Mustang, peeling out so dust and dirt flew dramatically everywhere and then left the junkyard.
CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 16
@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#joel miller x oc#joel miller angst#joel miller x female reader#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x original character#joel miller tlou#halloween ends#halloween#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal x oc#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal pictures#pedro pascal fanfiction
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if I had a nickel every time an episode in Ace Attorney involves a murder orchestrated by a pair of partners-in-crime where:
the one who wanted the victim dead and who's calling the shots is the yang-esque partner, an orange/red-coloured and explicitly cat-coded villain antagonist man with a misleadingly nice title/nickname/slogan ("tender"; "refreshing" etc) that doesn't suit his real nature + a bright conspicuous motorbike that is currently out of use, whose main thing is acting i.e. playing different characters & roles, and is able to fool many around him with his act, who is the primary antagonist or "real" bad guy in the episode narratively and,
the one who was enlisted by the cat-coded biker to help with the murder is the yin-esque partner, a black/white-coloured character with an ostentatious visible sign of past injury on their head and an eerie aura designated to invoke fear & creepiness from the moment they appear on screen, who consistently makes it sound as if they might kill you or someone else any second when they speak, but is ultimately treated as less antagonistic/more sympathetic than cat biker by the narrative.
and
cat biker stars as the leading role of their murderous two-man act, while the scary accomplice plays a supporting role in the background costumed in the uniform of the service job (e.g. maid, butler, waitress, bellboy) they're disguising themselves in.
despite serving the cat biker, scary accomplice is actually far more powerful in reality and both of them know it. scary accomplice's last name is infamously powerful in the criminal underworld and strikes terror into people's hearts; when brought up to the law enforcement for the first time, the player is told that other outlaws fear them and the police can't reach them.
cat biker acts tough and intimidating with the rogue face he puts on but he's actually a coward absolutely terrified of scary accomplice's actual power, because he knows the only reason they hasn't got him dead yet is that he is still on the accomplice's good side and they trust him.
and
the duo carries out the murder according to cat biker's wish but they're unsatisfied without making sure biker never gets convicted, so they decide to take a step further and mess with the lawyering as well. so they target phoenix wright personally, which eventually becomes their undoing because it just pushes him to find out the truth even more.
moreover, phoenix hates betrayal personally, and during his search he finds out that cat biker has been deceiving scary accomplice all along, despite scary accomplice's strong devotion to and forceful dedication to trusting cat biker. cat biker also even expresses his contempt toward them for this foolish trust behind them
phoenix breaks the truth about this betrayal to scary accomplice but couldn't get through until he provides evidence with the correct explanation, because accomplice has wanted to trust cat biker. after phoenix gets the truth through, scary accomplice completely turns against cat biker and wants him punished, which eventually helps phoenix gets him convicted and jailed with the help of unconventional methods
...I would have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but,
did you know that AA2: Justice for All was originally going to have 5 episodes, and Recipe for Turnabout was supposed to be 2-4 while Farewell, My Turnabout was originally meant to be 2-5, before they ran out of space and switched Recipe for Turnabout out for AA3 instead?
which means if it went as planned, Recipe for Turnabout would've been right before Farewell, My Turnabout. I wonder if that means this parallel could actually have been not completely unintentional?
anyway it's hilarious to me to think that Farewell, My Turnabout (the Engarde & De Killer case) would've been exactly one case after Recipe for Turnabout (the Tigre & Viola case) and exactly one case before the Dahlia & Phoenix case (Dahlia is a villain tied to the theme of deceit + comparable to Matt, while Phoenix is all about trust and trusting your clients + foils Shelly). fellas is it gay to strongly parallel not one, but multiple doomed godawful dysfunctional canonical m/f romances thematically
#ace attorney#farewell my turnabout#recipe for turnabout#matt engarde#shelly de killer#furio tigre#viola cadaverini#i (ai)#sazatoro#phoenix wright
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It's Called " Inspection " Ma'am~ Cop Doppelganger Francis X Reader " NSFW 🔞 "
Author's Note: 🔞 SMUT WARNING NO MINORS 🔞. Did a fan au of what if Francis became a cop and made it into a one-shot you're in for a quite of a ride. Thank you all so much for the support of my previous fic more Milkman content on the way X ❤️
~1965~
You smile everytime you see the Milkman passing by delivering fresh milk door to door. You wish that he would talk to you for hours because Francis really did enjoy your company and vent about his stinking dead end job sometimes. You always smile and encourage Francis to keep going no matter how hard things are and by the end of the day Francis did think about you even when he looked at the milk labels all he could think of was your beautiful face.
"Your so helpful Francis "
"I always keep the milk jugs for anything i use and I never throw them out "
"You always bring fresh milk and that's why I encourage myself to drink more especially for my bones"
"Thank you Franics "
After picking up more crates from his job Francis one day is going to ask you on a date but he was afraid of rejection and what would it do for his other job that no one knows about even his all time crush would hate his guts.
Every milkman left for home except for Francis he had to change to a different uniform for the next job either it was day or night and when he delivered milk, he had to be right on time. Francis heard on the walkie talkie that a new doppelganger has been spotted and his job was to eliminate them. Since it was still dusk Francis walked with this long rubber boots heading to his motorcycle that ( SPO) " Secret Police Organization " has offer him to get there faster and people will only know that Francis is a traffic cop in public. Starting up the engine with his leather gloves on the steer he went up the highway wearing his black shades. Wearing all black, a police badge, and a helmet was a perfect way to stay anonymous. A way Francis is able to find these doppelgangers is to pull them over for a ticket or when they are sleeping. Sometimes when they're awake and not paying attention he pulls the trigger from his pistol and of its more then one he brings out his M21 assault rifle unfortunately he also had to take down witnesses.
No rest for the wicked ~ Francis mutters as he gets off his motorcycle, Turning off the engine takes his bag where he has a display of weapons he carries whenever he has to do the job.
Getting ready, Francis places the bullets in the insert place of the gun and clicks making sure it's ready to fire. His target was Angus Ciprianni the local businessman, more of a cyster everytime he grins to make deals with other companies knowing he'll get most of the profits. Another companion he noticed close to Angus were two, Dr. W Afton and Mia Stone, Francis had seen them before but he had restless nights being up from them having sex.
It was more of a quiet night which Francis preferred as he spies on Angus who was putting his folder away and drinking bourbon with him. This was a good time to strike.
Back At Y/N's apartment
You just finished helping a neighbor of yours Mclooy Rudboys who was a retired he kind of look like a little bit of a the colonel from the KFC commercials. You always helped him whenever his son Steven was on airplanes far where his father was at so weather it was lifting boxes or buying things Mclooy needed you're always there to lean a hand .
Well thank you kindly Ms. L/N this was definitely be all for today.
It's always a pleasure, Mclooy, you said, placing the boxes to the other side of the room and using your elbow to take the sweat off your face.
Are you seeing anyone? Mclooy asked sitting on the bed taking his boots off pretty odd for him to say that out of the blue.
Umm no.. not really
Francis is quite an interesting man I tell ya and I'm saying that is because Steven tells me that you would always look at Francis for a while even if he doesn't notice you.
Well I really do like him alot, I'm just afraid of rejection you said lowering your head with your hands behind your back. As Mclooy chuckles puffing a cigar.
Y/N I see you got sprirt, you work hard, you help others like me, and I'm sure if you ask Francis out it wouldn't make you so anxious. Just get a try and I'm rooting for you and him if it works out. Mclooy said patting your back as he lays back reading to get some shut eye
Thanks Mclooy you said with a warm smile having the courage once more. You did want to ask Francis for a very long time even when it came to his work hours but hiding every place where he won't see you can't keep up forever.
I'll see him tomorrow morning you said as you wave to Mclooy closing the door and heading downstairs going to your apartment second floor and went your room and flopped on the bed.
Will he like me… you said tugging on the pillow to get some rest since tomorrow you'll be on the road for a while.
In Angus Apartment
Francis stays silent for a moment as he had the ringing of the girls voice it was Y/N once again. He didn't want this job but how can he keep others like Y/N safe from this contamination of doppelgangers even if he has to kill anyone because witness are forbidden to see unless your a SCO like Francis was.
"Francis your always welcome to come over "
( BOOM)
Opening the door Angus holding his bourbon looks to see Francis aiming his gun but he dodges and and runs out of the run as Francis speed walks. Angus grabs Francis the side of the back punching him and slamming him against glass picture as Francis fights back punching him more and reached out for the gun, Angus used the bourbon bottle to hit Francis causing him to collapse while Angus goes to the door and knocks. The one who open the door was Dr. Afton as Mia who was fully nude stands by his side confused
Angus what the hell happened to you? Dr. Afton said his hand over his head seeing the injured businessman.
Doctor what's the hold up? Mia said pouting tugging on Afton's hand to come back to bed with her
Franics has lost his fucking mind, bastard trying to kill me!? Angus explained using a towel to hold his wound not sooner or later Francis comes in starting to shoot, Mia screams in panic as she sees Afton being shot by bullets ad Francis shots her right in the skull on the bed, Afton makes a rub for it to the exit but drops on the ground when he felt a bullet on his chest not making it. Francis sighs seeing the damage and mess just for hunting down doppelgangers. Using his leather boot he turns to see Francis face more closely, seeing worms coming down. Leaving him like this Francis got on his motorcycle and headed back home had to wash the blood off his uniform and face.
You heard a pair of footsteps coming up to your floor, you decided to get up adjusting the lace nightgown open the door a little to see who it was and you guess correctly. It was Francis but was strange for you. He wasn't wearing his milkman uniform and why would be out this late. You heard your door creek causing Francis to turn his head and come forward to you.
Francis… you said your hands covering your chest a little slowing walking back
Y/N… what have you done. Francis just blur out as he look at the blood dripping down his black leather glove and the fear mixed with guilt upon Y/N's face he wanted to touch her face but his glove hand turn into a fits as he slames the door while you were puzzled and stuttering. This wasn't the Francis you knew it had to be a doppelganger. It couldn't be the real him. You had a hard time managing to sleep so you rest your eyes a little holding a knife close to your chest hoping he doesn't come back in.
FUCK! Francis yelled throwing his empty glass milk jars on the ground Y/N wasn't supposed to look or be a witness now he had to kill her but he didn't want to. Y/N has been the only one who understands him and make him smile and always opens the door for her fresh milk. Francis attend to sleep but in the morning he would have to exterminate Y/N .
Morning
You got up and noticed you kept the knife still all night but your lack of sleep didn't help you move much. You had a strangest feeling that you were being watched or a target. You put on some usual clothes, your heels, and duffle bag because you had to get away, you knew being in your apartment wouldn't be safe. You look at the time the sun was going to rise, grabbing your keys, used a sun hat and glasses to hide your face and added scarf in general locking your apartment door and started to speed run downstairs.
Francis was up cleaning his gun and heard footsteps, putting on his boots, jacket, helmet and glasses he went to next door to your apartment he adjust the knob nothing, so he kicked the door open and you were gone. Francis speed walk down the stairs and got onto his motorcycle to find you.
You were riding in the middle of nowhere full on gas of your vehicle took a few turns and you were the only one on the road. You went to apply lipstick since you didn't had time to make yourself look pretty like you always do every morning. You wish to confess to Francis but now it was more like a huge question mark in your brain.
You look back to see a cop on his motorcycle but he didn't put on his siren which you find odd since most cops turn it on when they follow you all the way. Your fingers curled up with pressure on the steering wheel as the cop got closer. You turn the other way to pull over and turn off your engine.
I wasn't speeding, did I ever pay for a ticket? You thought to yourself millions of questions trying not to panic. You exhale in and out as you see the cop approach your car with a gentle knock on your windshield.
Tap, tap, tap,
You look to the officer waiting and you took a good glance and already you were mesmerized from his black jacket, black leather pants, his boots, gloves and shades why did a anonymous cop like this one was making you feel have heat in between your legs.
Hi Officer, is there something wrong?
Hello Ma'am yes there is, do you know why stopped you? The cop leaning closer as your face was an inch to is making your cheeks turns shades of red.
No you said trying not to get distraction from his unnecessary charm.
You were speeding, and I understand if you need to be somewhere but as a cop I have to keep on check for anyone who breaks the law~ The cop explained placing his glove hand on his chest as you nodded
I'm sorry officer but I don't think I was spreading consider maybe passing through but I didn't go over 50 and above you explain.
License and registration please ma'am the cop answered waiting for you to do your part.
Oh right here you said giving your license to the cop as he took a look but then he look back at you.
I need to see your full face ma'am just to be sure that this is you the cop ordered but you afraid but also didn't want to be put behind bars. You sigh and took the scarf, sun hat and sunglasses revealing your face the cop didn't move for a second.
Ma'am there's no way you could look that… beautiful..( Coughs)
Thank you, you said but then you heard the ringing in your ear that tone of that voice was familiar and he kept saying ma'am most cops do say ma'am or miss but this one kept saying it constantly.
Francis? You blur out as Francis look back in complete shock that you recognize him but he stepped back going back to his motorcycle. As you wait for a while but saw him reloading a gun. You turn back and started your vehicle and immediately drove off.
Ma'am, Ma'am .. Y/N! Francis shouted your name but you were already back on the road. Aggravated, Francis start up his motorcycle and went on the trail to follow and hunt you down like a wolf and bunny chase you down.
You looked around no cars still but look at the back you saw Francis catching up to you pulling out his gun starting to shoot at your window. You swift and swerved your vehicle it was a technique that you're father had taught you when it came to dealing with people coming after you. Francis speed up his motorcycle inches to your window going through the highway and made a turn to a nearby exit where it lead to an factory of mattress and pillows. You yield on your car causing Francis to slide off his motorcycle from the speed and falling. You manage to park your car to open the factory backdoor running around to find a place to hide.
Ugh… Dammit… she's got Spunk in her blood. Francis mumbled as got up from the ground and look at the stains of blood from his cuts and marks when he fell. He spit on the concrete back on his motorcycle and riding again until he found your vehicle parked in a mattress and pillow factory. Francis got off the motorcycle, pulling out his gun heading instead walking in a medium pace looking around the building. He pulled out a flashlight since it was pitchblack investigating around the area he was in.
You were roaming around thousands of mattress and pillows, kneeling down you hid for a while, holding onto your breath as you heard footsteps coming and bullets being fired.
I know you didn't want to me this way Y/N, but now you know, I'm not just your local milkman every fucking day. He said reloading his gun from the bullets falling on the floor as he steps more while looking .
I'm a cop but not the ones your use to, a cop that exterminates doppelgangers and witnesses and unfortunately for you. Francis replied as he pulls off the mattress to see you as you were opening the doors running downstairs and going to a room were there nothing but completed beds ready to be delivered.
Your a witness and I can't let that go. Francis said as he got close as he three his shades off the ground and reveal his face nothing but black eyes and a large smiling mouth he was a doppelganger. You screamed in and immediately felt your arms being grabbed and pinned as you kicked Francis causing his gun to be thrown on the other side. You went to reach it only to have your face being hit on the ground a few times, you used the bag wrapped around Francis bag causing him to choke but he spin causing you to bumper into a few shelf letting go. Francis rip the bag but you grabber onto him using your hands as fits but he just chuckles and put the gun close to your face.
FRANCIS I LOVE YOU, I ALWAYS HAVE, BUT WHY WOULD YOU EXTERMINATE ME!? AFTER ALL I DONE FOR YOU? You said on the verge of tears and face dripping blood with a few cuts. Francis look back for a moment his finger on the trigger but the fact he couldn't believe that you confess to him made him think more.
You loved me? Francis said as he black droppy ink soulless eyes were returning to his normal face the one you yearn for so much and deeply missed.
Yes Francis I don't care if your different and kill doppelgangers but if you even you pull the trigger let just do this.
Francis still had the gun on your head but you lean into him giving him a long passionate kiss causing Francis to hold onto you with your arms upon his black leather jacket shoulder kissing you a little force and tongue slipped in between. Francis wanted this more then over he finally let's go
Fuck it.. I can't take it anymore.. Francis said as he lower the gun, grabbed you by the own throwing you onto the nearby mattress where he got on top your hands pinned as Francis kissed you uncontrollably as you did the same legs spread a little as Francis takes off your top seeing you had no bra with a few whimpers he gently sucked on your nipples, nice, perky and perfect to rest his face on.
Your nipples were made for me, perhaps one day I could milk them in my private time when I deliver my daily milks door to door~ Francis cooed as he wip the salvia from his bottom lip and sucked slowly on your neck, your fingers dangled around the leather for a grip and hear the rubber sound tightened whenever he hit your sensitive spot making you moan.
Ahh… Francis.. oh Francis..ahh you said having a hard time with words because everything Francis did was pleasure and indulgence. You felt his glove caressing your hair with his lips getting more sloppy with yours as he let's go and unbuckles his pants while you were hyperlating as Francis look back at you
So beautiful, yet so delicate, you want this cock inside your wanting slit~ Francis said teasing his cock rubbing in your entrance making you bit your lip in between
I might have to warn you darling ~ I like to go pretty rough~ think you can take this cop's cock hmm~ Francis as you were on the urge to just let him be in
Please Franics, do it already….I need you
What a lovely answer darling your such a minx~ Francis replied as he slammed his cock in the bulb of your entrance making you jolt as Francis holds you down with his leather gloves inside your mouth to keep calm as he starts to thrusts inside your wet hole.
You like that baby~ Fuck you're so tight, should have done this a long time ago~ Francis said slamming more of his cock back and forth you felt so horrible about fucking a doppelganger but you needed sex and the way this Francis made you so wet you just wanted him. You gagged in between words from the fingers inside your mouth as he pulls out he slams more of his lips into your lips.
Francis..ahh… yes..ahh haa…you said with your eyes rolled back as you manage to get his jacket off and top feeling his fit muscular body slapping to your body with the two of you hold on as Francis pick up the pace.
Ahhh ahh ~ you kept saying feeling your inside being tear painful yet but the pleasure really made it more enjoyable the mattress rocking back and forth.
Fuck….fuck I'm close…I'm going to cum inside you need slut and you're going to take every inch of me~ Francis said as he held onto the bed frame saw the mattress was already sticking with cum and lipstick marks.
Please yes, please Francis ahhhh~ You said in between your head back with Francis hair a mess slamming in more and more as he made a loud groan when he felt the cum dripping down your pussy with the wave of lust finally released.
Fuck Y/N~ you were incredible Francis praise as he leans into to kiss you more softly a little aftercare.
Francis… please stay with me… you said with your nude body cuddling up to his with your face hiding against his broad chest as he sighs his fingers caressing your hair and his other hand holding the edge of your palm
I'm not going anywhere darling Francis replied with a warm smile which made your face flushed pink since you haven't seen Francis really smile that much. It felt so inviting and he was really open to you.
The two of you rest in the mattress where you both made love with your liquids around of course both of you have to clean up your mess after a few hours of resting.
End~
#tnmn milkman#thats not my neighbor#francis mosses x you#milkman#cop#au#oneshots#fanfics#fanfiction#x reader#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#smut#francis#milkman1950s#tnmn#femalewriter#mistresswriter19
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Chapter Seventeen: The Love in Our Lives
Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.
But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.
Alhaitham/You
Notes:
Cross-posted on AO3
Female reader
Chapter index at the end of chapter one
When Alhaitham steps into the local police station that day, he gets many stares. Perhaps it's because he looks out of place in an environment where uniformed men and women are walking about. Or maybe it's because they are dreading the possibility of having to do work.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!” Alhaitham turns and sees Dehya with two other men who look like they’ve just been through hellish training. “Whaddya need, Alhaitham?”
“I’m here to see a tabloid reporter. He recently posted some photos onto a forum.”
“Ah, I know exactly who you’re talking about." Dehya gestures for him to follow her. "You aren’t the only one who came to see him.”
There’s someone else?
As Alhaitham follows Dehya down an empty hallway, she says, “A guy named Thoma also came to see him. Not sure if he’s getting anything out of him, though.” Dehya sighs. “Maybe you can knock some sense into that reporter. He doesn’t regret anything he’s done.” She frowns. “Candace and I heard from Y/N this morning. She seemed fine, but I’m still so tempted to give him a good beating if I’m being honest.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Dehya opens the door to a man slouching in a chair. The reporter looks thin, almost too thin. He's staring at Thoma with a hollow look. Thoma is out of his seat; his hands are on the table, and he's leaning toward him. Whatever it is, Alhaitham suspects that Thoma isn't getting whatever answers he wants.
“Is everything okay in here, Thoma?” Dehya asks.
“Yeah…” Thoma awkwardly sits down and looks at Alhaitham. “What are you doing here?”
“Probably the same reason as you.”
Dehya looks from Thoma to Alhaitham. “Well, give me a holler if y'all need anything.”
Just as the door closes, Alhaitham looks at the reporter, who finally looks at him.
“...Who are you?” he asks. There’s a lazy drawl to his voice. “Are you here to ask me about her, too?”
Alhaitham looks at Thoma, who sighs. “...This man is an old classmate.”
The reporter smiles. “Never would’ve guessed from my alias, huh? I bet Ayato’s still in the dark.”
Thoma glares at him. “Why did you do this?”
“You, out of all people, should know, Thoma. I hate him. Why else?”
“...So, you want to drag him down as he’s getting popular.”
The reporter smiles at Alhaitham. “Glad someone's using their head.”
Alhaitham puts a wide cream-coloured envelope on the table. “Your name is Gaston. You used to be a reporter for The Steambird until you got fired for poor performance.”
Gaston looks from the envelope to Alhaitham and narrows his eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”
Alhaitham nods toward the envelope, and Gaston reluctantly opens it. His eyes widen when he finds the photos he took, the ones of mostly women. It's clear they've been taken without their permission. Then, he finds a list of people. The further down he looks, it's documentation of their experiences receiving a gift with a hidden camera attached.
Alhaitham takes out his phone and plays a message.
“It was a reporter. He approached me during a press conference, and after talking with him, he said he was personally a fan and gave me a little keychain.” The woman on the tape sighs. “...It took me a while to find out that there was a small camera in one of the materials.”
"...You gave this keychain to one of the attendees at the Awards Night afterparty," Alhaitham says, slipping his phone back into his chest pocket. "That person unknowingly gave you what you were looking for." Alhaitham's little smile only makes Gaston more nervous. "I hope you know that filming and taking photos without people's consent is a serious crime. I wonder how long you'll be in for."
Frustrated and angry, Gaston tears the photos into pieces. Thoma looks at him as if he’s turned into an animal. Alhaitham, on the other hand, still looks at him calmly.
“I was wondering why you only posted the photo of Ayato onto the forum,” Alhaitham says. “But it seems like I got my answer.”
“Yeah. That’s right. Ayato… that fucking scumbag," Gaston spat. "If it weren’t for him, she would still be alive.”
“What are you saying?” Thoma demands angrily.
Gaston glares at Thoma. “Ayato couldn’t save her. He couldn’t do enough for her. That’s why she died.”
“You’re wrong!”
“...She shouldn’t have died. If anything, Ayato was the one who—”
“Shut up!” Thoma grabs Gaston’s shirt collar. “Do you know how much both of them were suffering?”
“I was her friend," Gaston says. "Of course, I knew!"
"No. No, you fucking don't."
Suddenly, the door opens, and Dehya quickly walks inside upon seeing the confrontation. "Hey, hey, what's going on here?"
"She took her own life," Gaston says. Thoma's hands are shaking as he stares angrily at Gaston, who smiles scornfully. "You think no one knows? I know, Thoma. I am a journalist, after all." Gaston grabs Thoma's hands and rudely pushes them off. "Do you know why I kept it a secret? Because I knew that was what she would've wanted."
“If you really were her friend, you wouldn’t have done this," Thoma says. "Do you know what people are saying about her online?”
“Her? Or Ayato?”
Alhaitham's patience is wearing thin. "Regardless of your motives, what you've done caused you great harm." Gaston slowly turns to him. "You'll hardly find another job." Alhaitham walks in front of him as Gaston clenches his fists. "I hope this was worth ruining your life for."
As Alhaitham walks away, he gives Thoma a look, and he follows after him. Dehya looks at the pathetic man in the room again and closes the door.
In a secluded area of the police station, Thoma sits on a bench, calming himself down until Alhaitham hands him a drink. Thoma takes it, and Alhaitham sits next to him.
"...How did you get all of that info?" Thoma asks quietly.
"I pulled a few strings," Alhaitham says. "...He messed with the wrong person."
"You came all this way just to tell him he's going to get locked away?" Thoma smiles slightly. "Ah… You went this far because she was involved, right?"
Alhaitham returns Thoma’s smile with one of his own.
Then, Thoma sighs. “Still, I can’t believe it was him. He was never this bad in school.”
“...People change. For better or for worse.”
After a small silence, Thoma looks at Alhaitham. “What happened today… could you not share the details with Ayato? I know it’s a ridiculous request to ask, but”—Thoma looks down—“the truth is that Ayato doesn’t know what really happened to her.”
“...Are you saying he doesn’t know she…”
Thoma shakes his head. “...No. He believes she died naturally.” He sighs. “I know it’s wrong to keep it from him, but… I promised her.”
"...This is just a theory, but what if that can break his curse?" Alhaitham crosses one leg over the other. "We still don't know a lot about it. But, in Ayato's case, she was the one who gave it to him. So logically… it should break if she's no longer here."
“That's a good point," Thoma says quietly. "In addition to that, I also have a tiny theory. But, it might sound ridiculous.”
“This curse is already ridiculous in itself. I wouldn’t be surprised if the key to breaking it is just as strange.”
“...When Ayato first told me about the curse, it was when he finally gave up everything.”
“Gave up everything?”
Thoma nods. "His studies… freedom… all of his time was spent making money toward helping her cover medical costs as her parents were already struggling financially."
“To put it another way, he was living for someone else.”
"Yes. Even now… he still isn't. Ayaka's medical procedure also cost him a pretty penny. Sometimes, he still questions whether he wants to continue acting."
This is only Alhaitham's speculation, but is Ayato afraid to try something else for fear of starting all over again?
"So I just think that maybe… what if self-love is the key to breaking Ayato's curse?"
“That’s a very interesting theory,” Alhaitham says. “We already have strong evidence that the curse is different for everyone. If we go with that idea… perhaps the key to breaking the curse is finding the types of love we lack in our lives.”
“I can’t believe we’re actually running with my theory,” Thoma says with a small smile. “But, let’s say it’s true… what would be yours?”
Alhaitham already knows you're his temporary miracle cure, which means you obviously play a significant role in his life. His curse has also been changing because of you. If you aren't together, Alhaitham would think the key is to become your boyfriend. But that's already accomplished. So… does that mean…
"Hey." Thoma and Alhaitham turn to Dehya. "Sorry to keep you guys waiting. The guy is asking for a lawyer, but we've heard it all before. So anyway, he won't be causing anyone harm anymore."
“I apologize for causing a ruckus,” Thoma says.
Dehya waves a hand dismissively. "Anyway, leave the rest to us. We'll make sure this guy pays for what he's done."
So, with that, Thoma and Alhaitham leave the police station.
◆◆◆
“...Unstable? Is it because it just started?”
You and Childe are having lunch together later that day. Alhaitham had given you a brief update on what happened at the police station, including the speculation from Thoma about the curse. You haven't brought it up to Childe just yet, as he's questioning why his transformation isn't as stable as Alhaitham and Ayato's.
“Well… it’s after he met me that his curse started changing,” you say.
“I’d think that’s progress. But what the heck is mine supposed to mean?”
That’s when you mention Thoma’s speculation.
“...Self-love?” Childe asks. “As strange as it sounds, it does oddly make sense.”
"...Then, I would think yours is pretty self-explanatory."
Childe looks you in the eyes. “What are you saying?”
“Your family, Childe.”
He leans back and crosses his arms. "...I've always had problems with them. So why would it start now?"
“Maybe it had something to do with your talk with them that night. Your mother kept calling you, didn’t she?”
Childe goes quiet, and you finish the rest of your food when you hear Tighnari.
“You look kinda glum, Childe,” Tighnari says, joining you and Childe at the table. “Everything okay?”
“Who, me? I guess I’ve been a little stressed.”
“Oh, with what?”
Childe glances at you. "I had to make some very peculiar changes to my lifestyle recently. Kinda having trouble adapting. But that's not what's important." Childe leans slightly forward. "I heard you got a date to Zhongli's wedding."
“Ah… yeah, I did.”
“Why are you keeping us in the dark?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Don’t tell me it’s some supermodel,” Childe says.
Tighnari chuckles. “In my eyes, he is.”
“Ooh, so romantic. So, has he”—Childe looks at you, and you look back—"He?”
You quickly look to Tighnari. “Nari, are you…”
Tighnari clears his throat. “Yes, my friends. I am bi.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Childe says with wide eyes. “I honestly never would’ve guessed. But damn. Now I’m super curious about the guy.”
“I bet he’s just as charming as Nari,” you say.
“Oh, no… I think he’s better, actually.”
You smile widely as Childe pretends to gag. “Cute, Nari,” he says, “but stop making it difficult for us single people.”
“Now, I'm looking forward to Zhongli's wedding even more," you say. "Can't wait to meet him!”
"Well, if he ain't treating you right, call us, and we'll knock some sense into him."
Tighnari chuckles. “What about you two? Are you still going together?”
Childe looks at you. “I’m going with Lumine.”
“As long as you two are on the same page,” you say. “...Are you going to Kaeya’s party with her then?”
“Kaeya?” Tighnari asks. “Are you talking about Kaeya Alberich?”
“Do you know him?” Childe asks.
“He’s one of the designers doing the marketing material for Sumeru Geographic. Blue hair? Tan? Tall guy?”
“I’ve never seen him.”
“That sounds about right,” you say.
“So, um, what’s he like?” Childe asks.
“He’s a cool guy,” Tighnari says. “If I’m being honest, he’s quite charming.”
“Charming?”
You and Tighnari look at Childe. “You make it sound like that’s a crime,” you say.
“A lot of the girls are fond of him,” Tighnari continues. “But he’s also cool with the guys.”
Childe frowns. “This isn’t high school.”
Tighnari laughs. “In a nutshell, he seems like an upstanding guy.”
“...You still thinking about going to that party?” you ask Childe.
Childe looks back. “What do you think?”
“Well, I hope you have a plan, Mr. Cat.”
“Mr. Cat?”
Childe looks at Tighnari. “Don’t worry about it.”
◆◆◆
Ayato enters a room and sees a company executive sitting at the table. He's reading what Ayato assumes are documents. The man smiles at Ayato and gestures for him to sit. As Ayato does, he sees a cream-coloured envelope.
“You wanted to see me?” Ayato asks.
"I have good or bad news, depending on how you look at it."
The man gestures to the envelope, and Ayato opens it up. As soon as he pulls out the papers inside and reads the title, he knows it’s a drama offer.
“The director personally reached out,” the man continues. “They want you to star as the male lead for this show.”
While Ayato may not know the director personally, he’s familiar with his work. Perhaps you will also put in a good word for him as he is the director of Love in the Spotlight. Ayato doesn’t need to be told that this is a great opportunity. But… he still needs to ask.
“Will there be a kiss scene?”
“There is a romance subplot.” When Ayato stays quiet, the man continues, “I know you’re opposed to doing kiss scenes. But the director is adamant on having it.”
A detective romance. An interesting story if Ayato does say so himself.
“I… I’ll think about it,” Ayato finally says. “Please give me some time.”
“Oh? You used to discard offers like these in a blink of an eye. Does this mean you’re really interested in this one?”
Rather than being interested, Ayato thinks that this is a step up. He will make more money. But, instead, he says, "It’s different than what I’ve taken on. It would be a fun challenge.”
The man smiles. “Yes. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He stands. “But take some time to think about it.”
As Ayato watches the man leave, he sighs and puts the papers back inside the envelope. Ayato says he will think about it, but… he's lying to himself. Maybe he can try convincing the director or—
“Ayato.” Thoma walks inside the room.
“Oh, Thoma.” Ayato looks at his watch. “Is something wrong? I don’t have anything scheduled for another few hours or so.”
“I heard that you got an offer,” Thoma says, sitting across from him.
Ayato looks at the envelope. “...Yes.”
“...Are you upset?”
Ayato slides Thoma into the envelope. "The story is interesting. I think it would do well regardless of who's cast."
“Then, why the long face?”
Ayato looks up and sees Thoma staring at him. “...I think you know why I can’t take it.”
Thoma leans back. “Alhaitham came to the police station today.”
“Police station?” Ayato frowns. “Wait… what were you doing at the police station?”
“I went to see the lowlife who posted those ridiculous photos on the forum.”
“...So, that’s where you disappeared to."
“Anyway, Alhaitham and I were talking… and there’s a theory that we think could be the cause of the curse.”
“...Which is?”
Thoma takes a small breath. “Love.”
Ayato raises a brow. “Love? How does that have to do with the curse?”
"Do you remember the day you told me you turned? You said it was the day you visited her at the hospital. The day you told her… you're giving up your studies."
Ayato looks away. “...Don’t tell me you’re saying that she’s the one who’ll break my curse? That’s ridiculous, Thoma—”
"No." Ayato looks back. "Your curse started because you gave up everything for her. Even now, you're in this industry because of Ayaka. You're constantly doing things for other people."
“...Are you saying…”
Thoma sighs. “If you ask me… the answer to breaking your curse has been you all along. You just never realized.”
“Then, what are you expecting me to do?” The cold tone is one that Thoma has never heard before. “Should I leave the industry?”
“No! That’s not what I’m saying.”
In truth, Thoma isn't sure what to say. Perhaps it's not fair that he dumped all of this onto Ayato. But, on the other hand, what is he supposed to tell him? To love himself? That's awkward.
“I… I just think you should start making decisions for yourself,” Thoma finally says. “Do you really want to continue acting?”
“...Then, let me give you an answer. I do. It’s the only thing I can do. It’s the only thing I have. What am I supposed to do if I’m not acting? Commercials aren't enough."
“You’re thinking of it as a lifeline. You don’t want to do this because you want to. You do it because you have no choice.”
Ayato frowns. "...Because without it, I will lose everything, Thoma. It's easy for someone to tell you to do whatever you want because they don't have to face the consequences. But, if I did just that a long time ago, Ayaka wouldn't have had the money for her surgery." He stands. "Now that her bills are finally paid off, I need to think about making a living for myself. Like I said, acting is all I have."
Then, without another word, Ayato walks out of the room.
◆◆◆
That evening, you manage to get in touch with Kaeya, but it's to tell him that you won't be able to make it to his party as it clashes with the reunion with Collei. And, well, you agreed to hers first.
"Oh, no problem," Kaeya says. "Lumine mentioned that you might have something else going on."
“You saw her today?”
"I was seeing a few friends, and we bumped into each other. There… was another guy that was with her, though."
Is he talking about Childe?
“Well, anyway, congratulations on your win the other night. Diluc and I loved the show. You deserved it.”
You smile. “Thanks, Kaeya. Let’s go out to eat sometime with Lumine and Diluc.”
“For sure.”
After ending the call, you hear Kaveh’s voice from Alhaitham’s kitchen. You put your phone on the table and see Alhaitham looking disapprovingly at his ex-roommate.
“...It’s a wonder how you managed to survive this long on your own, Kaveh.”
“That’s why there’s something called takeout.”
"...Where you have no idea what goes into your food," Alhaitham deadpans.
"I'm still alive, aren't I?" Kaveh turns around upon seeing Alhaitham look past him. "Oh, Sis! Sorry, were we too loud?"
You walk up to them and look at the burnt… thing in the pan. “It, uh, it’s definitely nothing like I’ve ever seen before.”
Kaveh puts a hand on his hip. “It has its own charm, right?”
Alhaitham sighs. “...If that’s what you want to call it.”
Eventually, the three of you are sitting at the dinner table, talking about the curse until Alhaitham tells Kaveh about Thoma’s speculation.
"Self-love, huh?" Kaveh says, putting his fork down. "That's not something that can be achieved so easily." He looks from Alhaitham to you. "...But enough about Ayato, what about you two?" You and Alhaitham look at each other, and Kaveh smiles. "Could yours be… romantic love?"
“We’re already in a relationship,” you say.
“You have to think bigger, Sis. Marriage? A… baby, perhaps?”
Of course, that has crossed your mind. But you're definitely not ready for either of those. You don't even want a child. But… does Alhaitham feel the same? You've never talked about marriage or starting a family with him, as that conversation seems way too fast. Besides, even if you do any of those things now, it won't feel genuine. Won't that mean you're just helping him get rid of his curse? It doesn't sound like a decision made out of love or respect.
“Rushing either of those things will not help in the long run,” Alhaitham says.
Kaveh looks at you. "Just curious, Sis… do you want to get married and have a kid? I know some people who don't want either anymore. Times are changing." Before you can reply, Kaveh chuckles. "If you don't want kids, cats are a pretty good alternative. Don't you think?"
Alhaitham gives Kaveh a deadpan look, to which Kaveh returns with a smile.
Later that night, you fell asleep on Alhaitham's bed after watching a movie. Alhaitham—in his cat form—walks into his room and sees you on the bed. He hops onto the bed and uses his kitty strength to drag a blanket over you.
Then, after he turns off the TV with his paw, he goes underneath the blanket and snuggles himself next to you. Is it true that the key to breaking his curse is… romantic love? Does this mean you’re really his soulmate? But this raises another question. Why did his curse start at eighteen? Was there something special that happened during that time?
Alhaitham can only remember that it was the time when his parents dropped the news that they were going abroad… again right before his high school graduation. Alhaitham knew how busy they were with work, so he didn't question it. It wasn't like they kept him out of the loop. They kept in touch frequently, but nothing beats seeing and spending time with people in-person. Still, he remembers feeling extremely empty, so he went to a bar with Kaveh for a drink.
Then, Alhaitham remembers what his grandfather told him: Is it wrong of me to want a grandbaby? Does this mean he'll oppose his relationship with you if he knows you don't want kids? Alhaitham has never seriously thought about whether he will want kids or not. But, just like you, he's content with what he has in life. A happy relationship with the person he loves. He'd always thought that maybe going with the flow was best. Well, it looks like he'll have to have an opinion eventually.
You stir in your sleep, and your hand finds his tummy. Alhaitham nuzzles his head against your cheek. Your eyes slowly open, and you smile when you see Alhaitham snuggled up next to you.
“Should I turn you back now?”
You're expecting a response. A meow. Or any kind of indication that he wants to. But instead, he puts his head on your arm and slowly closes his eyes. Looks like he wants to stay in cat form tonight. And who are you to complain?
Chapter Eighteen
Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @sakiimeo @ash-in-lavender @ceylestia @forsh4dow @deathkat657 @kalpie @elernity @sentieence @chichibleeps @sunsethw4 @hjjks @tanspostsblog @nqctre @just-simping-over-genshin @uchihaeirin @vynbin @ayanokomu @dksfl920 @alatus1808 @itztaki @thetwinkims @imkaaayy @angeilix @starlighttotheleft @letthewindlead @thelonelyarchon @certaindreampost @winterpein
#genshin impact#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham#alhaitham fluff#al haitham#alhaitham x yn#alhaitham x y/n#genshin al haitham#al haitham x reader#al haitham x y/n#al haitham fluff
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Part 2 of 2: Pagtingin (Feelings) [Steve Harrington x Reader]
a/n: hello. it me. i definitely did not forget to post part two.
if you would believe it, i was actually getting sick every week the past month because of the insane hours and workload of my new job. so, umm, probably not lasting long there... i wanna be pretty again and lose all the stress hives all over my body.
summary: based on this blurb on a hanahaki au/flayed!reader
word count: 12k words (big boi over here; i definitely bullied our girl throughout this entire chapter)
warning: barely proofread, only edited twice; no use of y/n; steve is an oblivious himbo (but i'll excuse it because he was the ultimate bbg in s3); ANGST TRAIN, hurt no comfort; moms of hawkins summer '85 (i have 911 on standby); billy "walking red flag" hargrove; unrequited feelings / pining; minor violence; body horror (it's hanahaki, what'd you expect?); writer's torture of a self-insert character; stranger things season 3 canon, but Alexei lives fyuck canon actually; metal goodboi cameo
You despised summer. You didn’t used to hate summer, but working in the summer heat when your recently recurring childhood asthma gets triggered by intense heat wasn’t the best option for you. While you couldn’t pass off as a lifeguard at the Hawkins Community Pool, your neighbour and acquaintance, Heather Holloway, pulled some strings to have you manning the snack bar.
It wasn’t ideal, but it certainly opened up the opportunity to listen in to a lot of gossip all around town. Not your favourite pastime, yet Heather enjoyed the very juicy ones, something you noticed she most likely inherited from her father, the chief editor for the town’s paper. Every time her shift ended, so did yours and either you share interesting stories of the day while you drive home or to the newly opened Starcourt Mall.
“Ew, those women are either married or divorced,” your nose wrinkled in disgust at Heather’s favourite gossip topic, Hawkins group of moms. Specifically, their scheduled visits to the pool whenever Billy Hargrove would be on duty as lifeguard.
“He likes the attention, I guess,” Heather shrugged, “and the moms get to ogle eye candy.”
“Still a minor, Heather.”
“Uh-uh, he turned 18 a few months back,” Heather argued, though the distaste was apparent on her face. “The term is barely legal.” Then she suddenly giggled. “I’m still calling the police when they make a direct move,” she half-joked. “I know they call me a bitch behind my back.”
“You’re a menace.”
“And you’re a sissy,” Heather shot back. “When are you going to ask Steve Harrington ou— JESUS!” She clung at the grab handle when your foot landed too much on the gas pedal. “No need to take me with you to hell just because you can’t get a date.” Then with a cheeky grin, she added, “I heard Steve can’t get a date either, and he talks up anyone at that ice cream place.”
You slammed the brakes. “That’s it!” you exclaimed. “You’re walking the rest of the way to Starcourt!” The only reply you had was Heather’s maniacal giggles at getting you so riled up.
You and Heather parted ways when you arrived at Starcourt after telling you that she’d be getting a ride home with her date. You waved her off and headed to Scoop’s Ahoy. A group of girls were giggling as they were leaving when you got there. You also noticed the whiteboard that Robin, Steve’s co-worker, held up, adding another tally on the “You suck” scoreboard.
“See what I have to deal with?” Steve immediately ranted, jerking a finger at Robin’s direction. “If you worked with me, I don’t have to be subjected with workplace abuse.”
You and Robin snorted in sync. “You poor baby,” you cooed teasingly while pinching Steve’s cheek. “How can I ever live without the longer shifts, ridiculous uniform, and being your wingman?” You earned another laugh from Robin while Steve scoffed before shooting you a pout.
“Well, you certainly miss me since you constantly visit as soon as your shift ends,” Steve shot back.
“Sure, I’m definitely not here as Heather’s chauffer to her movie date,” you said, “or just hanging out at the comic book store.”
“You want me to come wi—?”
“Bye, Robin!” you ignored his offer yet still blowing Steve a raspberry to which he rolled his eyes at. Exiting the ice cream shop, you made you way to the pharmacy first before the comic book store. It was mostly empty when you got there, so it was a breeze in getting your prescription inhaler.
It’s been forever since you had asthma, the last one during your elementary days. Your wheezing fits had only come back since that occurrence in those tunnels that you still see in your nightmares. However, after the countless tests and screening from military scientists, they cleared it to just “your body shifting from all the trauma.”
You’d think after opening gates to other dimensions with monsters, they’d be able to create a cure for asthma.
The thought was highly amusing to you that you almost missed the fiery redhead that just entered the pharmacy. Your eyes watched Max Mayfield carefully as she walked through the aisles with her head low, trying to be inconspicuous. Grabbing your bag of prescription, you slowly followed where Max wandered off, which happened to be a shelf of bandages.
You almost let it go, knowing that her skateboard hobby always led her to a number of scrapes and bruises. But when she reached for the bandage wrap on the high shelf, her shirt sleeve revealed a hand-shaped mark wrapped around her pale wrist. Trying to be nonchalant as possible, you approached her and grabbed the bandage for her, ignoring how Max quickly put her arm down and tugged at her sleeve.
“Skateboarding mishap again, red?”
Max’s signature cocky smirk covered the surprise on her face. “It’s one of my better falls,” she said. Then her eyes wandered to the prescription bag in my hand. “Still have those? They said you’d be better in a couple of weeks since the incident.”
“Well, I didn’t, so here I am,” you shrugged. “Hey, listen, I’m heading out to the comic book store if you want to tag along. My treat.”
Once you were at the community pool. Though you resorted to buying your carefully as she skimmed through the new arrival stack. You didn’t really have anything worth buying since most of the comics you read are from Dustin’s collection that he recommends and lends to you every other week. Sometimes you get the appeal, sometimes you didn’t. Still, it was a great way to pass the time when things are slow from working the snack bar at the comic book store if you want to tag along. My treat.”
Maybe you should’ve offered to buy Max a cone from Scoops Ahoy instead.
“You got any good recommendations?” you randomly asked the guy who just walked in. You seem to have caught him off-guard, the look of surprise that you were talking to him. “Munson, right?”
“Yeah, Eddie,” he said after a brief pause. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to read comics.”
You thought so too. But you also didn’t think that monsters that live in an alternate dimension exist.
You shrugged. “I read almost anything to pass the time,” you said. “Henderson lends me a lot of X-men.”
Eddie was about to reply when Max approached you with two Wonder Woman comics. “I can pay for the other one,” she offered.
You scoffed lightly and ruffled the top of her head. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you said. “Didn’t I say it was my treat?” Before she could argue, you snatched both copies from her hand and headed to the counter with her trailing behind you. “See you around, Munson.”
You and Max wandered aimlessly around the mall. You offered to go watch whatever movie was in the cinema, but Max turned you down, saying that she had plans with the party later that week once their campaign planning was through. After you ran out of things to do, you offered to drive her home, which she sheepishly accepted.
Before you could even pull out the parking area, Max said, “I know you saw the bruise. You didn’t have to do all that to make me feel better.”
A surprised smile tugged at your lips, impressed on how quickly she caught up on your intentions. “I don’t really have any sisters to dote on,” you said, “so it isn’t entirely on pity. I know you can stand up for yourself, red.” You continued, “But promise me one thing?”
Max nodded.
“You tell me when anything gets too much, okay?” You held her hand to show your support. “I’m always going to be here for you.” Trying to lighten up the mood, you added, “Billy is a prick anyway.” Then you pulled the car into drive.
“He has it worse than me.”
You tried to hold in your composure, but you couldn’t help your eyebrows rising up at the unexpected information. You always suspected something going on with Billy. No one suddenly becomes an asshole overnight. That you knew from being friends for a long time with Steve. Aside from the horrible friends he used to have, Steve grew up with his parents barely around, and even if they were, his father was always either hard on him or emotionally absent.
“Well, it doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you.”
“I know.”
Later that week, you were at your usual spot at the snack booth. The heat was especially brutal that day at it almost felt that your lungs were constricting every time you tried to breathe out. Not even ice water seemed to help, and when the thin clouds cleared, the blaring sunlight only made it worse, even though you were under the shade of the booth.
“Hey, watch the stand for me?” you said to your co-worker who mostly just tried to look busy by restacking cans of soda and rearranging the chips as a way to avoid kids yelling out their orders. He sighed but nodded, getting up to man the counter. On your way out of the booth, you pulled out your inhaler out of your backpack and staggered into the searing sunlight to make your way to Heather.
As you took a blip of your inhaler, you didn’t notice the person near you and collided into them, sending your inhaler flying. “Shit,” you muttered, picking up the plastic case. “Sorry about that.” You looked up and paled upon the realisation that you bumped into Billy Hargrove.
Billy didn’t seem to mind and just grunted before brushing past you. If anything, he looked as disoriented as you, dishevelled and profusely sweating. He had an obvious stumble to his step on his way to the locker room to what you assumed was to get ready for his shift.
You had half a mind to approach him when you heard “Hey! No dunking, Curtis!” from the pool area. You were suddenly reminded of your current task and shrugged off the Billy’s concerning state. For all you know, he was still probably drunk from whatever party he was at last night. It was summer break after all.
You carefully avoided being splashed near the poolside as you circled over to where Heather was stationed at the lifeguard post. Unfortunately, you almost tripped from another dizzy spell again and collided with another person. Just your luck.
“Oh, dear,” a woman this time voiced her concern. “Are you okay, hon? Maybe you should stay out of the heat.”
You steadied yourself and stared into the eyes of Karen Wheeler. “I’m okay, Mrs. Wheeler,” you wheezed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Drink some water!” Mrs. Wheeler called out before walking off.
Finally, you were able to tell Heather that you were cutting your shift short and that you couldn’t drive her to her dad’s office as you agreed on earlier that day. She waved you off and told you to drive carefully, assuring you that she could always call her mom to pick her up later.
On your way out, you noticed Mrs. Wheeler coming out of the locker room looking distressed and teary-eyed. She didn’t seem to notice you staring at her as she made her way back to the pool area. A few moments later, Billy came out of the same room, still looking as physically uncomfortable as before.
For the past weeks of working at the pool, it was no secret that one of Billy’s favourite moms was Mrs. Wheeler. But was there really some illicit affair between them? You probably wouldn’t put it past Billy, but the woman had three kids, for goodness’ sakes. You made a mental note to ask Heather what she knew about it tomorrow.
After a gruelling half hour drive while cranking your A/C up to full blast, you finally got home. You barely got a mouthful of ice water when your door rang. You wondered who it could be when the neighbours knew that you and your parents were usually at work during the entire day.
“Hey, can you drive us to Starcourt?”
You stared into the wild grins of El and Max, standing excitedly on your doorstep. Fifteen minutes later, you were back in your car, playing chauffeur for the two girls giggling from the backseat of your car.
“I’m telling you, El, boyfriends lie,” Max insisted. She poked you. “Tell her.”
You chuckled dismissively at their tween antics. “I wouldn’t know.”
Both El and Max paused and focused their attention on you.
“You haven’t dated anyone?”
“I’ve been on dates,” you clarified, “but I never really dated anyone.”
“Why?” El asked. It was more inquisitive than mocking or accusatory. She was very curious, that one.
“Because she has the biggest crush on Steve.”
“Oh, my God!” you exclaimed. “Does everyone just know about that?”
“Well, anyone with eyes, yeah,” Max said, rolling her eyes for good measure. “The only reason why he hasn’t caught up is because boys are dumb.”
That made you laugh out loud despite the discomfort in your ribs.
When you arrived at the mall, you expected to have them run off to who knows where while you hung out at the waiting area, taking advantage of the air conditioning, but those two dragged you to every clothing outlet at the mall. You tried to not exert yourself, but it was hard not to match their energy when they were clearly having so much fun. It was even so endearing to see El emerging from her shell, trying out outfits that she genuinely liked and not those lumberjack fits that Chief Hopper had her on all the time.
By the third store, you insisted to sit that one out and merely watch them try on a bunch of different hats. You giggled at them posing at the mirror as if they were at a fashion show. However, you only had a moment of peace before Max approached you with a sundress that looked way too close to your size.
“No,” you stood your ground.
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes, then we’re going to Scoops Ahoy to get cones after this.”
“Ask Steve out on a date,” El urged, smiling encouragingly.
“What happened to ‘boys are dumb?’” you said, raising your brow.
“He’s not going to ask you out first, so you will do it for him!” Max said. She and El both grabbed each of your arm and pulled you to your feet and into the dressing room then tossing in the dress and pulling the curtain shut.
You stared at yourself in the mirror and the dress you held in front of you. You hated to admit it, but it was a pretty dress. Even if you couldn’t score a date with Steve, at least you had a great addition to your wardrobe. With that positive thought in mind, you pulled your shirt over your head and hung it on one of the clothing hooks.
You carefully pulled down the zipper on the dress when you noticed something odd on your reflection. Peering closer on the mirror, you stared at your ribs, noticing the almost black veins that almost seemed to be moving underneath the skin. What the…
“Are you done?!” Max called out from behind the curtain.
You snapped out of it and quickly pulled on the dress. All your initial worries faded once you saw yourself in the mirror. For good measure, you pulled your hair out of your scrunchie and let your tresses fall out in waves over your shoulder.
“Wow,” El and Max chorused.
You didn’t even notice them pulling the curtain open.
When you made your way to Scoops Ahoy, Max and El apparently had already made plans that you don’t come in with them. “Let it be a surprise,” Max had said. It was almost ridiculous that you were letting 14-year-olds dictate you on how to get a date from your crush.
“Okay, here you go, you got a strawberry and then a vanilla with sprinkles, extra whipped cream.” Steve paused and looked at the two girls suspiciously, especially at El. “Wait a second,” he thought out loud, “are you even supposed to be here?”
The two girls giggled, and El said, “A pretty girl drove us here.”
The words ‘pretty’ and ‘girl’ caught Steve’s attention. Predictable. “Yeah?” he grinned, leaning forward as if asking for more details. “She still with you?”
“You know her, silly,” Max giggled before running off with El. On their way out, they both flashed you a thumbs up and mouthed, “good luck.”
You stepped inside Scoops Ahoy with a newfound confidence. It was definitely the dress, and you hope it paid off. When Steve caught sight of you, his eyes brightened up and flashed you his charming smile.
“Hey, stranger,” Steve greeted. “I see the girls made you their babysitter and chauffer.”
You tried not to let your smile falter when you didn’t get the reaction you hoped. You laughed, trying not to give off the fact that your confidence was quickly crumbling. “Yeah,” you said, “my shift ended early at the pool.”
“That’s great!” Steve cheered. “Listen, Dustin just caught Russians on his new radio thing, and we’re trying to translate it. Spy shit and all.”
You blinked. “Dustin’s back?”
“Yeah,” Steve nodded animatedly, “he’s at back with Robin translating the tape. Well, mostly Robin. Didn’t even know she’s amazing at languages.” He continued, keeping his excited energy, “She already knocked down a couple phrases. Isn’t that cool?”
Then it clicked.
Steve liked Robin.
Too late again.
“Listen, we can use your help because there’s this music at the end that I couldn’t remember where it came from,” Steve said. “Robin and Dustin say it’s stupid, but you can back me—”
“Um,” you breathed out. You cleared your throat, wondering why you started to get out of breath again. “I still have to drive the girls home before dark,” you said, gently turning him down.
“Oh.”
“Um, call me if you find something cool?” You didn’t wait for him to reply and turned your back on him. As soon as you left Scoops Ahoy, you pulled your inhaler out your pocket and took a blip, but it seemed to only make your lungs angrier and cramp even more.
As agreed upon earlier, you found the girls at the main doors of the mall, but they were in a heated conversation with Mike and the rest of his party. You sighed and quickly approached them before it turned into a full argument.
“I dump your ass!” El declared, making you stop in your steps. Lucas and Max were flabbergasted at the outburst, except Max looked somewhat proud. Mike just looked lost and was clearly at a loss for words. Will just looked uncomfortable enough to be witnessing the entire thing.
“Okay, that’s enough,” you interfered. “We’re leaving, come on.” You looked at Will who seemed to be the most aware among the boys at the moment. “You guys need a ride?”
He shook his head.
“You take care, okay?”
Will nodded.
The walk to your car between you and the girls was quiet. Though Max decided to break the silence when you pulled out of the mall compound. “What happened?” she asked.
You simply shrugged, ignoring the burning in your ribs from the simple motion. “Boys are dumb.” Then the car ride was silent again.
Later that evening, you laid in your bathtub in cold water, finally relaxing when you can breathe easily again. The summer heat fatigue really got you today, you thought. Suddenly remembering what you saw in the fitting room, you looked at your ribs again and was relieved when all you saw was nothing but your usual skin.
You were pulled back to your thoughts and remembered the beautiful sundress that was now laid discarded on the bathroom floor. You groaned at the memory of what just occurred this afternoon. You sighed and slid down to submerge the rest of yourself in the almost freezing water, leaving all your worries for the few seconds you had underwater.
Don’t be afraid. It’ll be over soon. Just stay… very… still.
You were scared. You couldn’t open your eyes, and the water suddenly felt too thick. The searing pain that was becoming too familiar in your lungs felt like it was begin to crawl out of your chest and into your throat.
But it was all gone in a split second.
Panicked and scared out of your wits, you immediately crawled your way out of the bathtub, not caring if you were curled up naked on the bathroom floor. You reached for the first thing you could grab to cover yourself, until you realised that it was still the same damn sundress. Suddenly, all the air just left your body, and you were starting to wonder if it was still an asthma attack.
You hoisted yourself up on the sink, both coughing and wheezing, trying to do everything you can to get yourself some oxygen.
“Sweetie? What’s going on?” the familiar voice of your mom came muffled from the other side of the door. When you replied with nothing but aggressive and painful coughs, the knocking became incessant, and her calls turned to worried cries. “Open the door!”
The same sensation of something crawling out of your throat came back. This time, you were more aware than your paralyzed state a few minutes ago. You stuck your fingers in your throat, feeling for any obstruction.
And you did.
With one forced cough, you were able to pinch out something smooth but foreign. You yanked it out, clenched it in your fist, and spat whatever fluid it brought out. You were initially worried that it was blood, but as you looked at the white ceramic of the bathroom sink, it was black.
When the bathroom door burst open, you quickly opened the faucet, flushing down whatever it was. Your mom rushed over to you and covered your hunched figure with a bath towel before pulling open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror to fish out your emergency inhaler.
“Come on, sweetie,” she carefully urged the inhaler in my mouth, pressing down to dispense a dose, but you could barely bury it down. “Let’s go to your room. You’re freezing.” She led me step by step to my bed and laid me under the covers, but the warm blankets only made me feel worse. “Your dad is coming with the nebulizer. Don’t worry. Just careful breaths.”
You didn’t remember how long it took for you to fall asleep that night, but you woke up the next day to your mom entering your room, already dressed in her office attire. She must’ve seen the panic on your face when you realised that it was way past your alarm.
“I called you in sick at the community pool,” your mom said. “Your dad will be picking you up after work to bring you to the hospital. In the meantime, just rest, okay?” She pressed a kiss on your forehead before she left the room, and you were alone again.
Then you felt the soft thing that you had in your fist the entire night. You raised your hand and held the foreign object over your head.
A black petal.
Panic bubbled up at the base of your spine, and you wasted no time in getting out of bed and getting dressed. You needed to tell Chief Hopper or Mrs. Byers. Or even just any one in Mike’s party.
And Steve.
Suddenly, it hit you. Dustin would still be around Steve decoding whatever Russian code they were on. The kid can easily call a code red for your situation. You grabbed your keys with the intent of going to Starcourt.
Just as you locked the front door, Max and El came rushing in their bikes, looking as alarmed as you are. They rushed to you, especially El who gave you a pleading look.
“It’s Billy.”
~
“As much as I appreciate you calling a grown up to investigate, this seems highly unnecessary.”
You were clearly uncomfortable as you turned the corner to Cherry Lane. You already gave them an earful when they admitted that they were spying on random people during their sleepover last night. Personally, you didn’t think that Heather would suddenly go for Billy when she just went on a date with someone else the other week, but maybe Billy was just that convincing.
“But the screams,” El reasoned.
“When Billy is alone with a girl, they make, like, really crazy noises,” Max argued, making you laugh at her words. Case in point.
“That’s surprising,” you noted. “I assumed that because he’s such an asshole he doesn’t…” you trailed off when you caught El’s clueless look from your rear-view mirror. “Never mind.”
“They scream?” El voiced out her confusion.
“Yeah, but, like… happy screams.” Then Max turned to you. “Oh, just that house right there.”
Your laughter came out in breathless snorts at this point. You pulled the car in park around the curb. “Okay, that’s enough,” you interrupted. “You don’t need to know about that yet, El.” You watched the house and hummed in thought. “His car’s not there. This’ll be easy.”
The three of you went inside the house and headed to his room. You knew that their family was very far from a loving one, but you tried to wrack your head for a reason as to why Billy’s bedroom door had a hinge lock from the outside. You barely had any thoughts about that little detail before Max pushed the door open.
“Why do I get the feeling we’re gonna find all sorts of wrong here?” Max said.
“Well, his tastes in music aren’t half bad,” you commented, flicking through his stack of cassette tapes by his stereo. You pulled open his bedside drawer and laughed at its contents. “Jackpot.”
Max rushed over to peek, only to see his collection of ‘printed ladies.’ “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Gag me with a spoon.”
Then we heard El calling us from the bathroom.
We followed her to see empty ice packets around his tub. The unsettling feeling crept in again as you remember that you were also trying to keep yourself cold last night. But you weren’t the only one who was unsettled.
El, who was breathing heavily, stared off into the corner, and when Max and you followed her line of sight, there it was. Blood. You carefully opened the trash bin and pulled out a utility bag from Hawkins’ Community Pool.
“Let’s go.” You didn’t waste any time leaving the house and getting into the car.
Despite the darkening skies and thunder rumbling, you got there in record time. You ran to see a co-worker of your closing the pool area. Protocol. But he definitely wasn’t pleased to see you.
“Didn’t you call in sick?” he said, sounding annoyed. “You’re the second person to bail today.”
“Heather didn’t come in?” Max asked.
“Obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing thi— Hey!”
The three of us ran back to the car to figure out what to do next.
“We can go back to my place,” you suggested. “Wait out until Heather comes home next door.” Then you remembered. “Shit,” you cursed, turning on your car before the girls agreed. “My dad is supposed to pick me up for a doctor’s appointment.”
Luckily, your dad wasn’t home yet when you got back. Probably due to the storm. However, the girls already had their own plans in mind when they walked over next door to the Holloway’s.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you hissed, jogging over to them. “Don’t go running off without me.” You looked at the now open front door. “Did you just unlock the door? This is trespassing!”
“She’s inside,” El whispered. She and Max entered the house, and you had no choice but to follow.
The three of you carefully treaded towards the voices in the dining room. There you found Billy with Mr. and Mrs. Holloway chatting away. The sight of your three by the hallway halted their conversation.
“Um, hey, Janet, Tom,” you greeted. “We tried to knock, but you probably didn’t hear us over the storm.”
“What on earth are you doing here?” Billy cut in, his eyes trained on Max and El.
“Where is she, Billy?” you asked firmly, staring straight into his eyes.
“Where is who?” Billy smiled innocently, but it didn’t give you any ease.
“Well, they’re a little burnt! I’m sorry.” Heather walked in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies. “Oh, hey, girl! Is your shift over?”
“Heather!” Billy called. “This is my sister, Maxine.” He gestured to Max before his eyes landed on El. “I’m sorry. I did not quite catch your name.”
“El.” Eleven responded with her eyes pointedly trained on Billy.
“El,” Billy echoed, his polite smile turning into something menacing.
It definitely unnerved the three of us. Your hands held onto their shoulders and pulled them behind your back, leaving you to face Billy. “You guys weren’t at work, so we got worried,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Heather wasn't feeling so hot today, so we thought we'd take the day off to nurse her back to health.” Billy turned to Heather. “But you’re feeling just fine right now. Aren’t you, Heather?”
“I’m feeling so much better,” Heather smiled, but there was something about it that didn’t seem right to you.
Max and El tugged at your hand. You looked at them to see them silently pleading at you with their eyes. You gave a brief shake of your head before turning back to Billy. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” you said carefully. “I’ll take the girls home.”
“Thank you for looking out for my sister and her… friend.”
You made sure that the girls walked ahead of you, and right before you passed the front door, Billy pulled you to him. You barely could get a noise out as he pressed his hand over your ribs.
“You’re one of us,” Billy whispered before he shoved you out and shut the door.
It all happened in a split second that the girls didn’t even notice the exchange. The fear stabbed you deep in the gut that you basically dragged them back to your house, forcing them not to look back. Only when you got inside your house that the tension released from your body but only just.
“I’m taking you guys home, and tomorrow, we’re meeting up with the party, okay?”
“You’re not going anywhere, young lady.”
You winced and found your dad staring you down with his arms crossed.
Damn it.
~
“As soon as we’re done here, you’re grounded for a week.”
You groaned and held back the urge to roll your eyes. You were in the hospital waiting area for your family physician, but because there were a handful of minor accidents because of the storm, the wait was a bit long, especially when you were not priority. It was fine during the first ten minutes, but after half an hour, you were starting to get cranky.
“I’m going to the restroom.”
Your dad made a move to get up, but you stopped him. “There’s literally a storm out there, and you drove me here,” you pointed out. “Where else can I go?”
Your dad just scoffed but leaned back in his seat, waving you off. “Bring me back a coffee then,” he said.
You walked down the hallway but turned to the payphones instead of the restrooms. You dialled in the number you were so familiar with and hoped that he’d be home by this time.
“Hello?” Steve’s voice rang through the speaker, sending relief through your body.
“Pick me up at the hospital,” you said.
“Wait, what?”
“Oh, and do it in half an hour.”
“There’s literally a storm outsi—”
“I’m also staying at your place tonight.”
“Hey! What is going—”
“Thanks, Harrington.”
Steve arrived at the hospital in twenty, still dressed in his sailor uniform. With your dad still busy with his coffee and a random medical pamphlet, you cocked your head to the side and sent Steve a signal where to wait while you made your escape. For the second time, you got up to your feet.
“I think I want a coffee actually,” you said. “Be right back, daddy.”
Your dad hummed, not even lifting his eyes from the pamphlet.
For a split second, your heart seized at the sight of your clueless father. You wanted to tell him and mom about the monsters and how they were this close to taking you, but they were better off not knowing. It wasn’t worth risking their lives when it could be just you.
With a heavy heart, you kissed the top of his head and walked down the hallway, heading for the exit and into Steve Harrington’s getaway car.
“Okay, but what the hell is going on?” Steve asked, pulling the car in drive.
You didn’t answer and just hugged your knees to your chest while crying silently. You’re one of us. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to level your breathing, which now felt like such a laborious task. Now that you knew the truth, it was almost like you could feel it all inside you. Taking every piece of you.
You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by a warm hand clasping yours. You raised your head and looked at Steve, who kept his eyes on the road, but continued to squeeze your hand. You managed to stop crying and thread your fingers through his and bask in his warmth.
You knew it was just temporary. You knew who he really liked. And as if the universe was aware of your feelings, they decided to cut the moment short by sending your chest squeezing and blocking your airways again. You dropped Steve’s hand and clutched at your chest as you exploded into another coughing fit.
Steve panicked and quickly glanced between you and the road. “What’s happening?” he asked frantically. “Should I take you back to the hospital?”
You violently shook your head. “N-no,” you managed to wheeze out. “Dr-drive.”
“Where’s your inhaler?” Steve asked to which you left unanswered.
Finally, you managed to cough out a chunk of something, freeing your airways. You quickly shoved it in your pockets without checking before Steve noticed it. You exhaled in relief and leaned back in his seat.
“It didn’t use to be that bad,” Steve pointed out.
“Yeah.”
“Was that why you were at the hospital?”
“Mm.”
“We should go back.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re near your place anyway.”
By the time you got to Steve’s house, he rushed to his parents’ room to find you something to wear from his mom’s closet. “Go take a shower and warm up!” he called out from the second floor.
You dragged your feet into the downstairs bathroom and rinsed your mouth. As you spat out the water, swirls of blood and black goo circled around before disappearing down the drain. You pulled out the clump that you hid in your pocket and teared up at the sight of a fully formed flower.
It was cruel that something as hauntingly beautiful as this was killing you from the inside.
When you flipped the flower over, you noticed thin tendrils from where the stem should be. You were horrified that the tendrils were actually moving like tiny tentacles. It reminded you of that day when you were in the tunnels under the pumpkin farm.
Without any more thought, you dropped the flower in the sink. Remembering that they were susceptible to heat, you immediately turned on the faucet to its hottest setting. As the water hit the flower, your lungs were suddenly set on fire.
Out of instinct, you turned the faucet off, relieved that the flower immediately dried out and broke off into ashy flakes. The burning stopped as well but still lingered under your skin. Almost tripping over your own feet, you staggered over to the shower, stripping yourself of your drenched clothes and turning on the water to its coldest setting, and only then did you find relief.
You’re one of us.
It took over almost half an hour to compose yourself and figure out what to do from here on out. You put one of the fluffy robes in the bathroom and headed out to the living room where Steve was already lounging on one of the sofas, shirtless but with a towel hanging over his neck. He only seemed to notice your presence when the sofa dipped beside him under your weight.
“You okay?” Steve asked when you rested your head on his shoulder, not minding that his hair was still dripping wet. “Jesus, you’re freezing.” He moved to grab the throw blanket and pulled it over both of you then rubbed his hands on your arms to warm you up.
Meanwhile, you wrapped your hands around his waist and just closed your eyes at the sound of his heartbeat. You were mad that his was steady when you couldn’t even control the fast drumming of your own heart whenever you were near him. Still, you held Steve as if you were afraid to let go, as if he was your only reminder that you were still you. But why did it hurt, even physically, so much to hold on?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve whispered, stroking the back of your head. “I don’t think we held each other like this since middle school,” he chuckled to himself at the memory. “When Vicki Carmichael took stole your partner for the Snow Ball and kissed him in front of everyone? You slept over and cried in my bed, telling me you hated her for it and me for going with Tammy Thompson.”
You wracked your head trying to remember what Steve was talking about. Maybe because it was a long day, but you couldn’t remember him holding you like this in middle school. Still, it must have been a beautiful memory if even Steve remembered it.
Sometimes it felt like you were the only one holding on so tightly in this relationship with him.
“Don’t you remember?”
You just hummed and snuggled closer to Steve.
“Okay, how about when Lewenski and I got into a fight because his girlfriend tripped you up and you skinned your knee pretty bad?”
This one, you remembered. “Your dad grounded you for a month, and you got benched for two games,” you chuckled softly.
“And you still cheered for me in the sidelines,” Steve said, sounding relieved that you were finally talking. After while a long pause, he said, “What happened? You used to tell me everything.” He continued, “I know I joke about it a lot, but I was really worried when you didn’t sign up with me at the mall. And you being sick all the time now?”
“Steve, just drop it,” you said, almost in a plea. “We’re okay. You never have to worry about me.”
Steve scoffed playfully. “That’s never going to happen,” he argued. “I’m always gonna worry about you. You don’t even notice how much trouble you get yourself into without realising.”
You tried not to think about it, but for the rest of that night in Steve’s arms, you almost felt like the vines were moving inside you, growing and taking up what was left of you that you haven’t already given to Steve.
~
“So, basically you’re a fugitive now?”
You chuckled and tiredly patted Dustin’s back. “Man, I missed you, kid,” you said. “And to answer your question, technically yes. I’m facing a lifetime of being grounded if I’m caught.”
“Let me get this straight,” Dustin began, his eyes trained on your plain black shirt that obviously belonged to Steve, “Steve snuck you out of the hospital, and you stayed in his house the entire night?” He leaned close to you. “And nothing happened?”
“Jesus, Dustin,” you wrinkled your nose at him. “People serve food here.” You gestured at the small cup of ice cream you were eating as breakfast slash brunch. Though you were wallowing your sorrows in cold, cold sweets, it did make you feel like a kid again.
“Steve is so stupid sometimes it amazes me,” Dustin thought out loud.
“I’m surprised you caught on. Seems like everyone in the world knows except him.”
“That’s because I’m me,” Dustin grinned proudly. “I bet the rest of the party doesn’t even know.”
“Who doesn’t know?” Steve entered the backroom with Robin in tow.
“Probably that you’re a dingus,” Robin snickered. Then her eyes trailed over to you. “So, we have another addition to the team,” she pointed out. “Who’s bringing her up to speed?”
“Dustin,” Steve said the same time that Dustin also said, “Me.”
Of course, it was Dustin.
While Dustin explained to you that the Russian military was most likely running a secret base right in the Starcourt Mall, you worried about El and Max, especially with not-Billy on the loose. Though they probably were already with the rest of the party right now and alerted Chief Hopper and Mrs. Byers. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.
Right?
“Got it?” Dustin finally said before narrowing his eyes at me. “Were you just zoning out the entire time?”
You snorted. “What do you take me for?”
“Fine, what did I just say?”
“Okay, I probably zoned out halfway through,” you admitted. “But your problem is pretty simple.”
Steve, Dustin, and Robin waited for you to continue.
“You just need the blueprints for the mall.”
“Why haven’t you called her the moment we were cracking the code?” Robin said, rushing outside and grabbing the tip jar. Ignoring Steve’s calls for her, she was off leaving us three at Scoops Ahoy.
~
“Touch my butt! I don’t care!”
“Can we keep it PG in here?” you frowned at the ridiculous show Steve and Dustin were putting by trying to get into the air ducts. “Just pull the boy down before someone gets hurt.”
“He can’t get hurt. He’s missing bones like Gumbo.”
“Like what?” you tilted your head.
“He means Gumby,” Dustin corrected, grabbing hold of Steve’s shoulders as he got hoisted out of the vent, “and that’s not how cleidocranial dysplasia works, Steve. I’m missing collarbones, not nerves.”
“Whatever,” Steve said. “We just need some else who could fit in there.”
Just as Steve said those words, Robin burst in the backroom, looking like she had an epiphany for the second time today. You were beginning to think she was the reason how Steve and Dustin had gotten this far. Behind her stood Lucas’ younger sister, Erica. Ah, the epiphany.
It only took the rest of the day of convincing her. The kid knew how to play hard ball. You’d give her that. She wouldn’t take anything less than ice cream for life. Frankly, you’d do the same.
You waited until the mall closed, though Robin and Steve cleared up Scoops Ahoy a few minutes early. So far, your parents were a no show, though you assumed that they didn’t think you would be hiding in the backroom of a very crowded mall. Frankly, they probably wouldn’t even believe you that you were infected with a monster from an alternate dimension and would rather help your friends with a Russian invasion than go to the hospital.
“Free ice cream for life,” Erica smirked smugly as soon as the thick sliding doors – actually odd for a simple storage room – slid open for us.
It didn’t take much snooping to find vats of glowing neon green vats of unknown substances hidden in regular delivery boxes. Without much thought, you grabbed one and made your way to the door. “Let’s just go before someone catches us.”
Again, the universe… just hated us.
“Uhh, which one do I press, Erica?” Dustin asked, insistently pressing the “OPEN” button.
Panic began to rise among all of us as mechanical whirring buzzed between the walls. Between that and the fact that we were trapped, we definitely knew we were screwed. While all of them fussed over the buttons that were no longer working, you stepped back, feeling something prickle under your skin.
“Just open the door!” Robin cried out, echoing into someone… something different.
Open the door.
Open the door!
Open the goddamn door!
Suddenly, you were on fire. You barely noticed your screams rising over everyone else’s. You fell to the floor, convulsing in agony as flashes of different people appeared in your head as if you were them. An old lady in a hospital bed, Heather, her parents, so many people who barely even knew in Hawkins… then Billy.
It was quiet with him. You saw flashes of a beautiful blonde woman calling out to him, her face concealed in a sunhat, then the beach with sand in between your toes. There was a moment of peace and tranquillity, and like someone playing a sick joke, you were in a dark place, standing in Billy’s place in front of people who were lifelessly standing still right in front of something. Something that you didn’t recognize but was so familiar to you, inside you.
He made me do it. It’s like a shadow, like a giant shadow. Please believe me, Max.
“Billy, it’s gonna be okay,” Max’s voice echoed in his head as if it were yours.
“It’s gonna be okay,” a different voice filtered through from all the noise.
“She’s unconscious. How is her inhaler going to help?” “I’m pretty sure that’s a seizure, nerd.” “Check for a pulse, Steve.”
Your consciousness fell right back on you like a pile of bricks. Your eyes fluttered open to see Steve hovering over you with your inhaler tucked between your lips. Once your eyes locked with his caramel ones, a huge wave of relief washed over his face as he pulled you into his arms.
“Oh, my God,” Steve gasped, clutching on to you for dear life. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Get… out.”
Steve tensed and pulled away to look at you. “What?”
You weakly pulled up your – actually Steve’s shirt up to your ribs, revealing angry black veins that were now crawling over your torso. You cried out and clutched at you. “Get it out!”
“Holy sh– what the hell is that?!”
You rolled to the side and fell into a coughing fit, your back hunched over. Your nails clawed at your throat, feeling something trying to crawl itself out. Whatever happened somewhere in Hawkins pissed off the plants inside you, and you can feel them twisting and curling throughout your torso.
With much straining and the remaining oxygen in your lungs, you managed to pull out the parasite from your oesophagus. The action made Dustin and Robin gag in the corner, while Steve and Erica warily looked at the slithering vine with a fully bloomed flower you dropped on the floor, leaving a trail of blood and black goo.
“You guys, by any chance, have a lighter?” you panted, pressing your cheek against the cold metal floor for any cool relief you can take.
Silence told you no. You hoisted yourself up with much difficulty and leaned back into the crate then immediately had an idea. Albeit, a bad one. With shaky knees, you got on your feet and lifted the vat of green goo that rolled away when you dropped unconscious. You looked for the right twist to open the container when Dustin stopped you.
“What are you doing?”
“We have to kill it,” you said nonchalantly. “I mean, I could just drink this to get it over with, but I don’t want to die that quick.”
“Are you…?” Then Dustin’s eyes widened. “That day. You were… because you saved me.”
“Wait, wait, are any of you nerds explaining what’s going on?” Erica interrupted.
You sighed. “Monster,” you pointed at the vine. “Infected,” you pointed at yourself. “Must kill monster with something. Preferably fire.”
“You killed one of those before?” Robin asked.
“It was smaller last night,” you shrugged, finding the latch to open up the vat. “Hot water took care of that sucker easily.” Twisting the lid a certain way, it clicked and released. “Aha!” you exclaimed. “This is gonna hurt.” You eyed the goo apprehensively.
Then Steve snatched the lid and sealed back the vat. “There has got to be a way to do this without you in pain,” he said.
“We don’t have time, and we’re stuck here in a metal box with a monster crawling towards Erica’s sneaker!”
“Why are you yelling?!”
“I’m not yelling!” you shouted. Then you turned to Dustin with a much softer voice. “How did Will get rid of his the last time?”
“Space heaters, a lot of them,” Dustin answered. “Anything from the Upside Down hates the heat, including D’Art.”
“Well, we’re not waiting until you cough all the flowers out, so I say we dump you into a hot tub and crank the heat to full,” Steve suggested, keeping the vat out of reach. “Once we get out of here, of course.”
“Boiling her alive,” Dustin scoffed. “That’s genius, Steve.”
“Or,” Robin interrupted, “we just use the same space heaters. It worked before, so it might work again now.”
“Thank you,” you said, pointedly looking at Steve. “At least someone is trying not to kill m—” Suddenly, your lungs were set aflame as you dropped into a heap on the cold floor, convulsing in agony with your mouth open in an open scream. You briefly heard Erica speaking before ultimately passing out.
“What? You only kept one of that green acid away from us. At least the monster’s dead.”
After passing out for the second time that night, you seemed to be sleeping much longer, but when you woke up, it wasn’t much of a surprise to hear Dustin and Steve still bickering. You opened your eyes to see Steve’s legs hanging from the ceiling. Again, not a surprise.
Probably nothing else would surprise you at this point.
“Shh! Jesus Christ!” Steve hissed before disappearing entirely to the top of the elevator.
Now that spiked your curiosity.
Robin was preoccupied with Erica, and both of them didn’t even notice that you were awake. You sat up and climbed on the stacked boxes leading up to the opening on the elevator ceiling. The burning in your ribs and your shortness of your breath was easier to ignore now that you were too lightheaded to actually feel the discomfort. Still, you managed to poke your head out the opening, accidentally ending up eavesdropping.
“I heard you guys talking all night,” Dustin whispered to Steve before his eyes landed on you. He winced and shot you an apologetic look.
Steve turned and saw you by his feet, making him jump in surprise. “What are you doing up?!” he scolded. “You scared all of us last night. I thought Erica killed you.”
“Gee, your welcome!” Erica called out from inside.
“’Last night’? It’s morning?”
Dustin smiled emptily. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying to reach anyone on the radio since the mall is open. I think we’re too far down though.”
“Okay, take Dustin down with you please,” Steve said, facing the wall. “I’m gonna take a leak.”
“First of all, ew. Second, good morning,” you said, hopping back down with Dustin right behind you.
“This is one looong sleepover,” Steve called out before the sound of a stream hitting the ceiling echoed inside the elevator. “Two nights of being your personal pillow!”
“Two nights?” you muttered to yourself. “Was I with Steve the other night?” you turned to ask Dustin, who gave you a weird look.
“You stayed over his place, and he drove you to the mall, remember?”
“He did?”
“Hey!” Robin called out. “We have company.”
One fight with a Russian later, which Steve won – finally – you and the rest of the group snuck into the comms room of the secret Russian base and found out why your lungs had been reacting different once you walked further down that tunnel.
“The gate.”
You, Steve, and Dustin looked at each other in horror before turning back to the machine that was trying to pry open the gate that El had shut down last year. It was your first time seeing it, but the same dark familiarity was tugging from the deepest part of your mind. There was no reason to dwell on it, so you tugged Dustin and Steve, urging them to leave and quickly warn the others as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, leaving was harder than getting in. Guards were alerted, and all of us were sent into running. It ultimately sent us to the direction of the gate itself with Dustin almost running into the laser machine that was opening the gate if it wasn’t for you tugging the back of his shirt collar.
You didn’t like being that close to the gate. Between the soldiers yelling and Steve barking which way to run, a louder voice was whispering crystal clear voices inside your head. You surrendered to the voices for one second to try and understand what they were saying, which proved to be your mistake.
In that one second, you were teleported to an incredibly vivid memory of meeting Steve for the first time.
“Sweetie, say hi to Mrs. Harrington and Steve.”
Your hand curled into a fist on the hem of your mother’s dress. It wasn’t the first time you saw Steve Harrington. Your classmate pointed who Steve was when he passed you at the hallways of Hawkins’ Elementary. She boasted that her older sister was Steve’s “girl friend” after he kissed her during recess yesterday.
You didn’t know what any of that meant, but when you glanced at Steve Harrington, you thought he was the prettiest boy you ever seen. Steve Harrington was exactly what you imagined the princes looked like that your mother read to you at bedtime.
And now, you were at their front door because your mom worked with his mom, and Mrs. Harrington thought it would be nice to have her and you over for tea.
And Steve was still the prettiest boy you ever seen.
You were catatonic while staring up into the gate opening.
While the rest of the guards were chasing after Steve and the others, the scientists urged that the guards don’t touch you, seeing that your pupils had turned entirely black. Your exposed neck revealed raised veins that they could tell were black even under the dim, unsteady lighting in the lab.
Your blank state was finally broken when the Russians took you in a secluded room, further away from the gate. Your mind was wildly fuzzy as if you were in the middle of sinking badly in your own subconscious. You inner daze didn’t last long when the door opened again, and Steve and Robin were dragged in and also cuffed like you were.
“What happened to you there?” Steve said in a low tone. “You just froze.”
The soldier didn’t like the chit-chat and struck Steve across the face. The sound was loud enough to echo in the room that you winced upon impact. “No talking!” he spat in a thick accent. “Now, who do you work for?”
“I’m confused,” Steve said, trying to sound unphased from the hit. “Do I not talk or do I tell you who I work for?”
That earned him another hit.
~
“We have many stories of monsters from where I’m from.”
“So do we,” you groaned at the man pacing the room. “You’re not that special, dude.”
Robin and Steve were taken away over half an hour ago, mostly likely for their own interrogation. So far, on your end, this soldier has done nothing but talk your ear off about stories from where he grew up while you were strapped in an examination chair.
“I suppose you know about flowers that grow on lungs?” The surprised look on your face told him everything he needed to know. “No one knows where they come from,” he said, “… until now.” He leaned in close to you. “You are very important test subject.”
“Not for long,” you said spitefully. “I’m dying anyway.”
“Well, I suppose you will be buried in Russian soil by then,” he said, sending chills in your spine. “But now, I need to see the flowers itself.”
Your breathing quickened at the thought being sliced open.
But…
They wanted you alive enough to bring you to Russia. That meant…
“Steve!” Your eyes widened at the sight of him as they dragged him inside the room and dropped him in a heap on the floor. Your heart clenched at the blood streaked all over his mouth and his eye swollen shut. “What did you do to him?”
The soldier and the rest of the guards merely looked at you struggling from where you were restrained while Steve remained unresponsive on the floor. The soldier looked displeased at the results before him and barked out another order. Soon enough, Robin was also dragged inside the room, and similar to you, she was as distraught at the sight of him beaten up.
Then… they just left the three of you in the room alone.
“What do they want?” Robin asked. “We told them everything, and you’re the only one not strapped with us.”
You gulped. “They, uh, they know what’s wrong with me.”
That gained Steve’s attention. With much difficultly, he raised his head and slurred out, “They’re not taking you, and we’re getting out of here.”
“Right,” you snorted. “Unless you have a way of getting to those scissors and cutting yourselves free, I’m on the next flight to Russia by the end of the day.”
“Those morons. They left scissors here?” Steve scoffed.
“I think that if we move at the same time, we could get over there, and then maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap,” Robin said, her voice rising with desperation. “So, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop.”
You smiled as hope bubbled when they succeeded the first two swivels. But on the third, the chair legs slid, knocking them both on the floor. Robin, who had her back to you, began shaking. At first, you and Steve thought she was crying, until her quiet giggles turned into full-on laughter.
“I’m sorry,” Robin laughed, trying to contain herself, “but I just can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, while his girlfriend gets shipped off to another secret lab in Russia.”
“We’re not gonna die,” Steve huffed, “and she’s not my girlfriend, okay?”
“Gee, we’re tied up and have no hopes of escaping, and you choose to correct that?” you snarked at him.
There was a moment of quietness, mostly just to collect our wits, but Robin was the one to speak up again. She talked about Mrs. Click, our history teacher. Turns out she had been in the same class as Steve for the longest time, remembering every detail about him.
Just like you.
“Do you even remember me from that class?” Robin said, her voice lowering into a whisper. “It didn’t matter that you were an ass.”
And her next words just crushed you.
“I was still… obsessed with you.”
There was nothing else to do but watch as Steve’s eyes — well, eye — softened. In that moment, you felt like you were in someone else’s moment, just an audience. But wasn’t that what you always have been in Steve’s life?
“You know, I wish I’d known you in Click’s class,” Steve said, a fond smile growing on his lips. “Maybe instead of being here, I’d be on my way to college right now.”
Last semester, you wrote two of his history papers just so his grades would be high enough for him to play during the basketball playoffs.
“And I would have no idea that there were evil Russians beneath our feet,” Robin chuckled, “and I would be happily slinging ice cream with some other schmuck.”
“Gotta say, though, I liked being your schmuck.”
And there it was…
The burning in your lungs intensified, sending you in a painful fit of coughs. It was hard enough not to curl over because of the restraints on your chest. There was no way to claw at your throat or to grasp at your chest from the twisting pain.
You were too engrossed in trying not to choke from blood and black goo that you didn’t notice the door open. A different scientist came in, this time more sinister-looking, and leaned over you. “I knew it,” he smiled. “He feeds the flowers inside you.”
“W-wha…?” you managed to gasp out. “P-please… can’t… br-brea-eathe… In.... inhal-er.”
In the midst of the black spots tinting your vision, you barely made out a jet injector and something bright blue before you heard Steve yell out and everything went dark.
“… up. Wake up!”
You opened your eyes to see Dustin’s face. “Am I dreaming?”
“Come on! We have to go!”
You were so groggy that you followed Erica and Dustin to a hijacked mini-truck with Steve and Robin giggling along. Both their antics only heightened when we finally ascended back up to the mall. Steve couldn’t stop booping Dustin, while Robin was saying stuff about food and death.
“Did they give you something too?” Erica asked me.
“They probably took something instead,” you rasped out, feeling your throat. “They baited one out and pulled it out while I was trying not to choke to death.”
“Where is it now?” Dustin turned to me, smacking away Steve’s finger from booping his nose again.
“How the hell should I know? I was tied up!” you scowled at him.
“We just saved your asses!” Erica and Dustin chimed back at your tone.
The bickering didn’t end until you were all forced to be quiet as you hid in a cinema that was showing ‘Back to the Future.’ Once upon a time, it seemed to be a fun movie to watch with the kids, maybe even with El, but now, you could barely keep your knees from fidgeting as your eyes constantly watched between Michael J. Fox and the cinema doors for any evil Russians.
It wasn’t long when your lungs began burning again. You didn’t feel the need to cough this time, but it didn’t stop for a metallic taste bursting in your mouth. You grabbed an empty popcorn bag nearby and spat into the paper. Even under the dark theatre, you could see that it was mostly blood now.
You were out of time.
~
“Jesus, you look far worse than El.”
You shot Max a very unfriendly look. “The girl who just pulled a monster out of her leg using your mind powers?” You glanced at El who was cuddled up with Chief Hopper while Mrs. Byers attended to the open wound on her leg.
“Well, both you are bleeding out of your noses, and you are also growing monsters inside you.”
“ERICA!” you screeched while furiously wiping your nose.
“Just the facts!”
“What?!” Everyone else in the party, including the adults, chorused.
“You’re dying,” Will said as if he could still tell. He gave you a look of empathy and a little bit of familiarity. You knew he went through a similar thing last year, and it somehow made you less scared that he was here with you.
You nodded solemnly. “I don’t have much time,” you admitted. “It grows faster the closer I am to the gate… or when I feed it.”
“’Feed it’?” Max asked.
“We don’t have to talk about that,” you waved her off. At this point, you were just desperate to stay alive. All of you were so, so close. “If we close the gate, we can cut off all connections, right?”
“Theoretically,” Lucas added.
Since there was no other option but that, we all based our plan on that ‘theory.’ A man named Murray, who also got into a tiff with Erica, came in with a map of the underground Russian base from a guy named Alexei. With the goals in place, everyone began splitting off into groups.
“You’re coming with us, right?” Steve asked.
You bit your lip as you shook your head. “I’m staying with the girls,” you said. “You go with Dustin and Robin to Cerebro.” At the sight of his worried look, you added, “I’ll be okay.”
Steve shot you a scowl. “Don’t die without me.”
“Hard promise to keep,” you smirked, smacking his hand away from ruffling your already messy hair. Your fingers tangled with Steve’s, and he ended up holding your hand completely. “Don’t die first, Steven.”
Steve chuckled and was about to pull away when you tugged his hand back.
“Hey, Steve.”
“Yeah?”
“I know you and Robin…”
When you trailed off, Steve raised his brows at you, urging you to continue.
You shook your head, waving it off. “You guys just got drugged,” you reminded him. “Drive safely.”
“You say that as if I don’t have any experience from partying.”
“That isn’t comforting at the very least.” Then... you let go.
~
Turns out that it wasn’t just the gate that was triggering the growth.
When the Spider Monster burst through the glass ceiling for Starcourt Mall, the flowers in your lungs reacted the same way when Billy had grabbed you at the Holloway’s. It was one thing to lead the monster away from El, but it was another thing to be hunched in the trunk space of the Wheeler’s hatchback with said monster chasing you down the road.
“The answer to a never-ending story…”
You laughed at the song number from the radio in between coughs. “That definitely takes the sting out of dying,” you said. You can only imagine Erica’s face during this whole ordeal.
“Don’t say that.”
You looked at Steve in deadpan. You kept eye contact as you spat blood and body matter into an empty soda cup you found discarded in the car. It was a low-blow towards him, you knew that, and he didn’t deserve it.
But you were so tired, and you were so mad at yourself for always being late, for being cowardly.
So, when Jonathan turned the car to follow the Spider Monster that turned back to the mall, you immediately hopped off and went looking for El instead of going with them to set off the fireworks. Steve, as expected, put up a fight, insisting that you all stick together.
“I won’t go near it,” you reasoned. “I’m finding El and getting her out of here, while you keep it distracted.” When he looked unconvinced, you added, “The fireworks will also distract Billy. It’s going to be okay.”
“That isn’t comforting at the very least,” Steve said, making you laugh at your early words being thrown back at you.
“Hey!”
You turned to see Nancy Wheeler toss a bundle of fireworks at you. At your raised brow, she shrugged, “Just in case.”
Following a broken gate not too far from where Steve rammed Billy’s car, you found an employee’s corridor where Max and Mike passed out nearby with angry bruises on their faces. You rushed over for Max and shook her awake. Her eyes immediately shot open.
“Billy, it was Billy,” Max said, panicked. “He took El. You have to go. I’ll take care of Mike. Go!” She staggered to her feet, gripping the pipes for stability.
“I can’t go near him or that thing.” You hesitated leaving Max, but when she yelled at you again to go for El, you turned your feet and broke off into a run. Then the fireworks began…
“Fuck!” you screamed, falling to your knees. Every corner of your body was set ablaze. You cried out as the flowers inside you constricted with every blast.
Max and Mike quickly caught up to you, pulling you to your feet. Suddenly, it was quiet, and a wave of calm washed over you. You saw a beautiful woman in a sundress and a hat by the beach. It wasn’t your memory, but it was being returned to someone after being taken away. Billy.
“She was pretty,” you could hear El cry in your head. “She was really pretty.”
Taking advantage of the situation, you sped through the corridor and into the mall. You found Billy beginning to stand up to the Spider Monster. “When I make a run for it, you grab El and get her out of here, okay?”
“What? You just said you can’t face that thing!” Mike told you.
“Just do it!” You pushed your feet as fast as you could to face the monster.
“No!” Billy roared, grabbing the monster’s tentacle mouth to stop it from reaching El.
Seeing your opportunity, you quickly pulled the taped matchstick from the bundle and ignited the fireworks. Swinging your arm back, you flung it as hard as you could into the monster’s mouth. Right as soon as the explosive left your hand, you caught incoming smaller tentacles headed for Billy’s side, slinging two of them to your side from the crook of your elbow.
“I got you,” you said out of breath, seeing Billy’s surprised face. However, your fight had the monster targeting you, sending two other tendrils to your side instead. You barely felt it, even as its sharp tongue stabbed into your abdomen.
Touching the Spider Monster was as worse as looking straight into the Gate. You cried out as flashes of memories of you and Steve, growing up through the years, bombarded you, while the flowers inside you began crawling outside your ribs instead. You barely heard the last firework go off as you felt the vines throbbing under your skin.
An arm wrapped around your waist and pulled your unmoving feet, dragging you away. Your spotted, blurred vision could only see a head of dark blonde curls with a massive dark mass in the background screeching in agony.
“It’s over. It's supposed to be over!" you heard Max’s muffled voice say. “What’s wrong with her?!” You felt hands on your shoulder, shaking you to snap out of it.
“Steve,” you breathed out. You tried to focus on Max, but with a blink, you were trapped back in your memories. Steve telling you to go home every time as he led a different girl up the stairs to his room. Steve dropping you off while thanking you for picking out a gift for Nancy. Watching him smile ever so fondly at Robin. Seeing the smile that you so desperately desired every time.
All the memories of Steve breaking your heart, you felt all at once.
You continued to unconsciously call out Steve’s name. Even when the paramedics began wheeling you out in a stretcher. You vaguely saw them cutting your shirt open, exposing the gore that was concealed by the fabric.
The black vines had reached out on the surface of your skin. The outline of your ribs was exposed, threading black and purple angry bruises over your torso. The right side of your ribcage had completely sank, one rib twisting outwards and leaking a mix of blood and black goo. The damage was extensive, but the monster you grew and fed inside you seemed to be finally lying still, only remaining dormant once the gate was sealed once again.
“… -eral broken ribs and possible internal bleeding!” a paramedic called. “One of her lungs has collapsed. She's in shock!”
Then Steve was there. You couldn’t tell if it was a memory or if it was happening at that moment. He was struggling against two firemen, trying to get to you with one hand reaching out. With the last bit of energy left, you raised your hand, reaching out towards him too.
“Steve…”
#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington x reader#hanahaki au#flayed au#stranger things angst#steve harrington fanfic
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The Cop I Own part 1
I pulled into my driveway after a long day. I jumped at the sight of an intimidating figure waiting on my porch in a blue uniform . Why were the police at my house?
Then, I recognized him.
The dense body, the handsome beard, and that same prideful smirk: it was officer De Luca, the cop that had pulled me over this morning.
I had been hungover and late when demanded my license and registration, and I didn't keep myself from snapping at him.
The poor cop was gravely outmatched. Using my mind control abilities, I had him agreeing with me about everything I said in a matter of seconds.
He now knew he was in the wrong here. He was an idiot for pulling me over, and he was more than happy to do anything to make up for it. That's when I gave him my address, telling him to be there in uniform after his shift ended.
I sped off without another thought and honestly forgot about the guy until this moment.
The cop eagerly stepped up to me on the driveway, a hopeful smile on his face and an excited palm outstretched.
"Hello sir. I want to say again how sorry I am for pulling you over this morning," he promised, "I tore up that ticket right after you left. If there's anything I could do to make up for the inconvenience..."
"Oh I think I could find something for you to do," I replied, already excited to put a policeman to work.
My lawn and garden have become an overgrown mess ever since I moved in, and I hated doing yard work. That's why I made him do it.
Officer De Luca trimmed the bushes first, grabbing some gloves and clippers from my garage. He said he wanted to change into something more casual, but I assured him that he was willing to do the labor in his full uniform.
He came to agree with me. What a surprise there.
Before long, the cop was building up a sweat in his police outfit, while I sat on the porch and sipped a drink. I really enjoyed watching the cop clean up my garden. I had a lot of work he could do and all night to make him do it.
"Go ahead and mow the lawn next!" I called to him.
"You got it, sir," he grunted back, picking up the pace with the clippers.
He had to refill the gas in the lawn mower before it would run. I hardly ever touched the thing, but he eventually kicked it into action.
I told the officer to finish up the rest of the yardwork, before heading inside for the night. Occasionally I would go out and check on him, finding the guy weeding the mulch beds and watering the flowers. He was so engrossed in my yardwork, he hardly seemed to notice me staring at him toiling away.
Eventually he knocked on my door and explained that he had finished. I went out and inspected his work, while he shuffled nervously behind me.
"It looks good..."
His face relaxed.
"...so you'll be here the same time tomorrow? I've got plenty more you can do."
"Oh," Officer De Luca wiped his sweaty brow and sighed, "I guess I thought this was it."
"It isn't," I explained, "But you liked helping me out with my house chores didn't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I did."
"So lets make this a daily thing, man. Get here after work each night and find me. I'll give you something to do. There is plenty to get done around here."
I smiled as the cop ultimately agreed. He would spend his evenings here, working for me. From now on, the chores in my house could be pushed onto my new work pig.
I was already thinking about all the annoying work I could leave for him tomorrow...
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