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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 3 months

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Dead Of Night (Rules, Part 2.)

Description: Coming back home was a doozie - it felt like starting anew. Meeting your dad's new best friend, however, turned your life upside down - and it was the two of you who had to set the record straight and figure out how to move on.

Part Summary: The night in the company of two Texan gentlemen is going well - Joel and Tommy are ensuring you're having a blast. Joel even goes up and beyond in this regard. It was too good to be true... Until it fucking wasn't.

Warnings: dad's best friend daddy joel (i don't think there's more to say to that) | age gaps all around, baby - joel being approximately 33 (reader being 8 years his junior), putting sarah around 13 years of age and sam at 18, reader's parents in late forties/early fifties | alcohol consumption | smoking (implied and active) | BILLIARD SHENANIGANS WITH THE MILLER BROTHERS™️ | NSFW activities - oral (f!receiving), sex at the bathroom stalls, inappropriate thoughts | i guess potential sub-con (we are drunk but very consensual) | we love a consensual king joel miller

A/N: The 'I like this song' is Orville's Peck Dead Of Night (name inspo, yay) - yanow, when it's late a party, they play slow and sappy songs to calm people before going down and to let all the lovey-dovey couples suck soul outta each other. And I love that.

Tagging: My sweetest, one and only @missdictatorme.

Word count: 10.1K - I cannot express how sorry I am for the length, but I had too much fun with this and didn't wanna pull out a two-parter with nothing exciting in it. I divided it into sections the best I could for easier reading.

Masterlist: H E R E | Playlist: H E R E

Leaving Joel and his compadre outside, you decided to spend some time playing pool - the elderly gentlemen occupying it were kind enough to let you play a few games. It was fun watching Anne getting tipsy, balancing on her tiptoes as she leaned her entire upper body onto the table, her tongue sticking out of her mouth due to concentration. You've won most of the games (mainly because neither of you knew the billiard or pool or whatever you've been playing), but Anne insisted on calling it a draw. Cheeky little pup, that's what she was. Just as you prepared the cues for the guys who'd landed them for you, a familiar Texan drawl could be heard behind you.

"Howdy, gentlemen." - The nameless guy greeted, nodding at the guys waiting for their pool table to be free. The elderly gentlemen nodded at the newcomers. - "Would y'all mind us havin' a few quick games with the ladies? We'll let you be after, promise. " "'s yours, son. Take ya time." "Yessir." - The guy thanked, walking over to Anne and pointing at the cue. - "May I? You're doin' it wrong, sugar." "'M not. But if you think you're more experienced..." "Been playin' pool with that rascal over there since we were tweens. Trust me on this one." - With that, he carefully tore the cue out of Anne's palm, seizing the cue chalk as well.

"Don't mind him, he's a show-off." - When his husky, melodic voice hit your ears, it almost gave you a heart attack - you were so preoccupied with watching Anne giving the guy a stare of death that you forgot Joel might be around too. You definitely didn't expect him to sneak up on you like that. "'s my technique bad, too?" "Worst I've seen." - He muttered, snickering. - "There's no technique to chalk a cue properly, don't worry. He's just makin' stuff up to be interestin'." - Joel explained, making you snicker too. You've handed him the cue nonetheless, making him put his beer down - he'd been skilled with it, you noticed; the two must've been playing since they were tweens, just as the other guy said.

Soon, you became too preoccupied with Joel's hands to care about some stupid pool - based on the callouses and small scars along his fingers and knuckles, he must've been used to working with his hands. Now that he'd folded the shirt's sleeves up to his elbows, you could see all the prominent veins and other scars, some of which were pretty deep. Without you trying to resist, your mind spiraled into imaginations of these palms taking handfuls of your ass, kneading it like bread. How would it feel to hold his hand? Would he let you entwine your fingers with his? How would it feel if he'd slap you - either teasingly or amidst all the heat and lust, say... Fucking you from the back? How would it feel when his palms would spread your thighs apart, his fingers sliding inside you? How would it... That's when you realized Joel was talking to you, watching you ogling at his forearms for a good minute. Your eyes jumped from his forearms to his face, looking at him dumbfoundedly - Joel scoffed upon seeing your expression.

"Huh?" "Was askin' 'bout your name, cutie, but don't take me wrong - wouldn't mind callin' you names." - Leaning closer, Joel gave you a warm smile. - "Have I interrupted somethin' in that head 'f yours, sweet girl?" - Oh God, he knew - he fucking knew. You were busted, flustered upon hearing his implication. Your brain blanked momentarily as you tried to come up with an answer. "Y/N." - You mumbled, mesmerized with the amused look in his eyes. - "Name's Y/N." "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl, I see."

"You two done with starin' into each other's eyes?" - The nameless guy called out, startling you - Joel remained as cool as a cucumber, his eyes following each move you made. Trying to wave it off, you walked to the table, leaning your palms into the side. "Yup. Bet our cue is chalked up way better than yours." - Cocky tone present in your voice made the nameless guy grin. Following up on the statement, you raised eyebrows in Joel's direction for support. The man didn't let you wait for too long. "Don't ya worry. I'll win it thanks to how you chalked it... And for you." - Joel added silently, brushing his palm on your lower back before he walked straight to the table - the first game was reserved for the two buddies to warm up. Even this quick, seemingly meaningless gesture had you shivering.

"You guys get to it. I'll go for a cig and get you some beer while you two clash it out." - Anne offered, grasping your hand in hers. Then she turned her head toward the elderly gentlemen. - "Y'all good? Want us to bring ya somethin'?" "We're good, sweetheart, thanks for askin'." "You asked them, but don't ask me?" - The nameless guy whined, looking at Anne with a well-portrayed offense. Joel snorted, carefully putting the pool balls into the triangle. "Cut it off, Miss Dramatic. Imma get you both a glass of Jack, 'f course. Do I look like a monster?"

"Thanks, Anne." - Both guys muttered in unison. Joel poked the balls first, having them scattered all over the table. Then he grabbed the chalk, furrowing while thinking about his next step. "You better win, Tommy, or I'm pouring your glass down my throat." - Oh, his name was Tommy. Joel's buddy Tommy. Noted. "And who's bein' dramatic, huh? Go now, you two." - Tommy waved in your direction, laughing while he tried to figure out the approach to his next poke.

After letting Anne have her smoke break, it was time to make your way to the bar. It wasn't easy - people were taking a break from dancing and started ordering their drinks. All the people smoking outside were coming back in, ordering new rounds of cocktails, shots, beers, and what have you. It took a moment, but you got four beers, two Jacks, and two shots of Chupito, carrying the alcohol back to the pool table. Anne started running her mouth again as you approached the pool tables. "You believe me now, or..?" "Believe you what?" "Believe me what I said about Joel? He's fuckin' smitten." "Joel being smitten? Are you deaf or just purposely ignore how Tommy talks to you? Who's smitten here?"

"Ah, I see. Too bad he ain't my type." - Anne sighed, looking at the duo debating over one of the balls' and its position. You had no idea what was wrong with it, but both looked hot debating. - "Suppose Tommy looks like a fun guy overall - nothin' for me, though... Ehhh... Maybe as a friend? That could work out. Anyway, stop deflectin', girl. You and Joel, that's the topic. I can sense the vibes are present, the chemistry is flowin', he can't take his eyes off you, calls you sweet pet names, watches you when you don't pay attention and grins to himself. To add to the evidence, he touched your back even though he had zero reason two, and don't think we missed how he snuck his palm up your waist and prolonged the greetin' for as long as he could... C'mon, I've seen you starin' at him. And he saw it too - and that old bastard was complimented by it." - Well, it was time to stop pretending, you assumed. You couldn't counter everything she just dropped on your ass - Anne and Tommy saw it all anyway.

"Fine, fine. Thing is... I've never felt like this about anyone. I feel like we've clicked right away, not a word needed to be said. Girl, that man's smoking hot - have you seen him? Heard him?" - You whined, watching Joel chalking the cue up again while watching Tommy prepare for his poke. - "It's just... Scary. Bizzare, yannow? This doesn't happen with strangers all the time. Why me? That's the main question. What does he see in me? Is he just pulling my sock? Would it be a hook-up, or would he want to see me again? What if he does this on the reg, just pulls random women in the club, fucks them and goes home?" "You think he wouldn't wanna see you again? That's what's bothering you?" - Anne stopped in her tracks, looking at you with disbelief. - "Even if! Live your life - drag him to the bathroom stalls, fuck the soul outta him, and make him remember this night forever, girl. But, to be fair... Takin' the way he stares at us right now into account, just to make sure we hadn't run away, tells me this guy will definitely wanna see you again. On top of that, the birds chirped that they hadn't seen Joel smitten like this in a long time either." "... Tommy told you that?" "Shush now. Just be hot and live your best life. Joel's fuckin' mesmerized and so are you." - She muttered as you approached the table. Cheerfully, she waved the glasses in her hand, earning applause from the duo. - "How's it goin', you two? Figured out who's the bigger alfa?"

"Kicked his sorry ass, as always." - Joel muttered, letting Tommy set the table for you, putting balls into the triangle, ensuring everything was set right. "You clearly cheated." - Tommy whined, accepting his beer and glass Jack from Anne, the other one landing right into Joel's palm. "Or maybe, you're just ass at pool?" - Anne chimed in, smiling sweetly right into Tommy's face - this earned an earnest chuckle from the gentlemen watching your matches unravel. Just like before, Tommy snickered in disbelief, turning right to Anne animatedly. Before you knew, the two were arguing again.

"She's not being too nice to Tommy. Sorry for that." "Don't worry 'bout him, pretty girl. He likes 'em spicy. 's good for him to let someone deflate his ego now and then." "Mhm, noted." - You and Joel were leaning into an empty table next to the pool, sipping on your beers, standing with aptly distance between you two. As you watched the two bickering (something regarding the balls' placement and Tommy's balls if you hadn't misheard), the question slipped past your lips on its own. Alcohol made you courageous, it always did. - "And what do you like, Texas?" "What?" - Joel asked, ensuring that you've truly dropped the question, that he wasn't imagining it or mishearing. By that point, he was scooping over to you, his shoulder nudging into yours, his other palm finding the small of your back again, nesting there, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. "I asked, what is it that you like?" - His face was close enough for you to feel his breath on the apple of your cheek as you cocked your head to him, innocently taking a sip of beer. He was at a loss for words for a bit, licking his lips as he tried to come up with an answer.

Just as Joel leaned closer to your ear and rubbed his nose in your hair, the grip on your t-shirt growing stonger, Anne turned to you, swinging her palms around in disbelief.

"That can't be right! No! Tommy, I know you're fuckin' with me. Joel, please tell him he's... Oh... Oh, fuck, sorry." - The girl giggled, growing flustered as she realized she'd just ruined your moment. Trying to salvage the situation, Joel cleared his throat, put his beer down, and grabbed the cue. Cool as a cucumber, just like before - except the blush spreading on his cheeks. The blush made you snicker, it was cute. "Ready for another round?" "Betcha ass. Imma blow smoke all up your arse, Y/N!" "I don't think that's what you meant to say, Anne." "Whatever, I sounded Bri'sh 'enough, didn't I?" - She reiterated, snatching the cue right from Tommy's palm, pointing her finger at him. - "If you try to talk into how I'm playin' pool one time..." - Aaand... They were bickering again.

"I know shit about pool and billiard." - You confessed in a whisper, having Joel hum while chalking your cue. - "Won by pure luck each time." "For starters, we're playin' billiard, sweetheart. Want some assistance? I definitely know more than that moron." "... I deadass thought it's a pool table, on my honor. Help? Would be brilliant, thank you." - As you leaned to take the cue, Joel pushed it out of your reach, knitting his eyebrows together. He seemed confused. "Are you really British?" "I won't tell, cowboy. Better if I keep you guessing for a bit. Makes me look more mysterious." - This time, you victoriously grabbed the cue, walking towards the table to offer Anne a handshake of truce and a good sport. You've done it before each game - the elderly gentlemen liked your sportsmanship.

Anne was doing the shot-up - leaning her entire upper body into the table, pushing her tongue out as she assessed the balls with a furrow, tapping her foot to Toto's Hold the Line. The shot-up was good, she even managed to score one, taking the striped balls for herself. Clear balls it was, then. "Damn." - Tommy sighed, nodding to himself. - "Well played." "Don't underestimate my billiard abilities ever again. I'm already playing leagues better than you." "She ain't wrong." - Joel chimed in, leading you closer to the table. Just like he planned, this gave the duo another reason to bicker, ignoring whatever it was you two were doing.

"My goal is to put all the clears into pockets, no?" "Fast learner, I see." "As if..." - Leaning onto the table, you did your best to replicate the finger stance your father taught you. - "Pops used to be a billiard enthusiast when I was little - that was before he fucked up his back. Did his damnest to teach me all about it." "Yeah, can tell it's been a while back time since you last played. Only blind people wouldn't see how bad that finger position is. Keep your hand like that, and it's gonna cramp in no time. C'mere." - As if he'd done it a million before, Joel walked up next to you, leaning over your back - his chest was pressed to your torso, his arms copied yours, and his chin settled on your shoulder. Your heart fluttered so hard you were worried about it jumping out of your chest. You didn't hear a word from whatever Joel tried teaching you, but God bless him for attempting anyway. Completely tuned out, you just nodded along, enjoying how his felt body pressed this close to yours (hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder), fingers of his left palm ghosting over yours, the other caressing the small of your back. God, Joel smelled so good - wood, soil, hints of cologne mixed with his musk? Absolute fucking heaven.

"Can you do that for me?" - The guy asked, turning his head to you, boring his eyes into yours. He was so close, his nose just mere inches away from yours - if you'd lean just in slightly, you could kiss him. "Do what?" - You whispered in an answer, having him snicker - the vibration ran through your body like lightning, igniting the bundle of nerves between your legs. This was when you realized you were fucked, at Joel's mercy. Shuddering and trying to keep a serious face on, Joel brought your attention to the posture of your hand, sweeping his thumb over your upper hand. "Keep your hand like this, pretty girl. It'll work better than whatever you were tryin' to create before." - Leaning away from you to let you play, he squeezed your hip to wish you the best of luck.

The moment he did so, a quiet whimper left your mouth, the cue bumping into the white ball at full speed - letting you score your first pocket. You were absentmindedly staring in front of yourself, your heart jumping right to your throat. Joel heard the whimper. It was written all over his fucking grin. He was also smart enough to put two and two together. If you reacted like that, how would you react once he's balls deep inside you? How would your sweet voice sound whimpering, whining, begging, frantically whispering his name? Joel hoped you'd let him find out.

The rest of the games were uneventful - whenever you and Anne played, the two men were sure to talk your head off, teasing you and pointing out what you did wrong. Tommy and Anne stuck to their bickering, their mutual insults getting more playful and out-of-pocket with each shot they downed. Joel stuck with the physical approach, trying to make you understand what to do and when to do it... Which meant you learned absolute fucking shit, being too busy drooling over him. His palms grew more daring the more comfortable you seemed around him - he stopped drinking in the middle of the third billiard match, saying 'He's had 'nough for the night' - Tommy immediately rebutting 'You sure that's the reason?'. Once, you'd swear his palm patted your ass before you poked, making you hit the black ball into the pocket, letting you win the game. 'Thank me later, cutie', Joel murmured into your ear with a wicked grin.

Whenever the guys were on, seven people commented on their match simultaneously - you, Anne, and the five pops watching you play. Whoever they were, you like these old geezers - they were fun to be around. To avenge you, each of the elderly ensured Tommy and Joel wouldn't come out of the match unscathed. Drunk and satisfied, you left the pool table around eleven, shaking hands with the elderly folk who kept you company most of the night. Everyone except Joel was pissed by the time you rolled around the bar, ordering a shot of vodka each. Hell, you've been mixing so much you were sure you'd end up sleeping through the next day. However, it was easy to get pissed in such good company - Tommy kept on coming up with various jokes (hit-or-miss situation there, really), having Anna cackle at each of them (she was blackout drunk, you were pretty sure).

Joel, while not saying much, hadn't moved away from you since you left the pool table - whatever you did, whoever you talked to, the man was behind you. His eyes observed every gesture and expression with a warm gaze, smiling warmly... But not creepily. It was flattering, having the biggest stunner inside the club watching over you. Made you feel special. Regarding what Tommy said earlier (that Joel hadn't been this smitten with anyone in a long time), he wasn't lying - didn't happen since Joel's late wife Angela, actually. Frankly, he was just as in the dark as you were. It wasn't easy to name what had gotten into him, but all he knew was that you're the fire, and he's the moth. Each time you moved, the magnet within you made him follow. Each word was a syren's call, each look a glance into a paradise. Chemistry was the main reason why you two got along this well, that much Joel realized - however, the longer you'd been around, the more captivated he was becoming. Everything about you made him lose his mind; your mixed accents, tapping of your boot into the rhythm, shaky breaths escaping your mouth whenever his fingers ghosted over any part of your body. Each detail, even the easily missable, got him fascinated. You had him mesmerized, took his breath away, had his head in a chokehold. Just as you were at his mercy, he was at yours.

Anne and Joel stuck to the bar when you finally took the dancefloor by storm - whatever you and Tommy were up to, it didn't bore any similarity to actual dancing. It was nice, seeing you laugh so hard, tiptoeing on Tommy's shoes while he clumsily turned around, holding your frame impossibly close to his body. He wasn't trying to pull you or seduce you - it was just hard to dance for two people. "Yannow..." - Anne mumbled from her drink, still watching as you danced. It was almost midnight - the club was closing soon, so most of the fast, heavy-hitting pop got switched for slower country songs. Songs for heavily intoxicated couples. - "I don't think I've seen her actin' like this 'round anyone. And I've known her for 20 years by this point." "Tommy can be a real charmer when he wants to, you're right." - Joel admitted silently, sipping on his lemonade - the same lemonade you made fun of just five minutes earlier. Instead of a response, Anne snickered and shook her head lightly. "Ain't talkin' 'bout Tommy, and we both know that... Drop the fuckin' act." - The girl muttered, losing her balance for a bit - Joel was there to catch her, carefully helping her back onto the stool. He didn't answer, just hummed for Anne to continue.

"Promise you'll be nice to her. Whether it's for tonight or longer, just... Be nice to her. And if you won't be..." "Lemme guess, kiddo - you'll find me and cut my dick off, won't ya?" - Joel grinned, watching Anne teasingly. She smiled, shaking her head again; she liked Joel's sense of humor and demeanor - he seemed like a solid, trustworthy guy. Albeit selfish, but reliable enough to keep his word. "Somethin' like that but ten times worse. You don't wanna cross Anne Marie Jones." "Yes, ma'am." - Joel nodded, tipping his imaginary hat off while bowing a bit. - "I'll go for a dance. Wanna join?" - She nodded in agreement, reaching for Joel's hand in hopes not to slip and fall flat on her face.

"Almost five hours. 's a good score." "Of what? Five hours of..." "You pretendin' that you don't wanna dance." "Were you countin' this whole time? Strong-minded's what you are, my compliments." "Stop and go get her, tiger. Thomas!" - She shrieked, waving at Joel's younger brother, her face filled with excitement. The said younger brother carefully helped you step off his shoes, thanking you for the dances, even bowing just to amuse you. You needed a break - your tummy hurt from laughter, and you were sweaty and thirsty.

"'s my time to be on the bench, huh?" - You asked as Joel stepped closer to you, putting his hand on your waist. When his other hand joined, your eyes frantically searched for an explanation - the only thing you saw, however, was the warmth of his gaze. - "Thought you don't do dancin'." "Haven't done it in a fairly long time. 's time to switch things up." "You changin' the rules for once?" "Hmhm." - Joel could feel your fingers creeping on his arms - his exposed forearms, up to his shoulders before finally entwining behind his neck. Your nails gently scratched his skin, lightly enough not to leave marks, but intensely enough to leave a trail of tingling sensation behind - each inch of his skin you touched started burning, and his dick started growing hard and pleasantly warm in his pants. - "It's worth breakin' the rules when someone's worth it." "Am I worth it?" "Without a doubt in my mind."

No matter how drunk you were, your mind screamed that something was wrong there, that you should leave Joel at the dancefloor, call for a cab, and never look back - this man was a stunner in his best years, not old enough to have back pains and crackly knees but not young enough to be hot-blooded and wanting to fuck for the fun of it. You've seen the hot-blooded type in London a million times, and Joel was different. His demeanor, compared to theirs, was calm and collected. This man wasn't forcing you into anything that hadn't crossed your mind already - his kind smile and gentle touches made you relaxed, letting you realize how desperate you wanted this. How desperately you wanted him. The question still hadn't been answered - why you? Why not any of the beautiful women in the club? Women his age? There were a lot of them, one prettier than the other. Why was it you who had been blessed with the attention of this Adonis with gentle yet assuring touch, with tender, lazy (and also hot as fuck) smile, and watchful gaze?

"I'm a horrible dancer." - You weren't willing to disrupt the intimacy by asking questions - the answers haunted you more than the question itself. Licking your lips, you stepped closer, securing your arms around his neck. "Doesn't seem to me." "Have you seen how I danced with Tommy? Kicked his shin like twenty times." "'s what he deserves, wouldn't worry about it too much." "Doesn't solve the problem at hand." "I have a solution." - Joel mumbled, halting his moves. You were looking at him with an amused furrow, trying to figure out what he was up to - it didn't work, but at least you could carelessly stare at him, memorize each muscle of his face in case you'd never see him again. "Go to town, cowboy. Tell me."

It wasn't a matter of describing. Instead, Joel pushed a few strands of hair off your forehead and face, his eyes taking each detail in. Even though he had thick fingers, callused hands, and big hands, his touches were feather-light - if he hadn't been holding his other arm around your waist, you'd suspect he wasn't even real. All the couples around were still moving at a lazy, slow pace, cuddling as the slow song progressed, but your world froze for a bit. To let Joel know you trust him and want this, your palms started repeating the movements of his fingers - slowly dragging along his jaw, down his neck, to his chin, cupping the apple of his cheek, thumb dragging along the sweet spot under his eyes, putting his damp curls away from his forehead. "Still wanna lemme show you?" "Stop talking and thinking about it too hard, Joel." - Joel felt your weight shifting as you tiptoed, your breasts clashing with his chest as you pressed your body onto his - one of your elbows leaned into his shoulder, your fingers entangling in the hair at the back of his head.

You've been the one to kiss him - one palm grabbing his shirt, pulling him closer; the other still entangled in his hair pulling him away, giving the kiss the right edge. A mix of desperation, desire, and unsaid worries. While your lips mashed, his hands got to exploring - your shoulders, shoulder blades, your back, the small of it, and then, finally, that sweet, sweet fuckin' ass in the tightest piece of clothing he'd seen. He'd swear you're vibrating under his touch, lust getting the better of you - the kiss got rougher, teeth clashing, tongues entwining, lip biting, whining, and quiet moans escaping without either of you wanting them to...

It wasn't clean, but it definitely was the hottest fucking shit and the best kiss Joel had in the last few years. "How does... What does it have to with dancin'?" - You whispered into his ear after you pulled away, nesting your chin on his shoulder, clinging onto him as if he'd disappear if you'd let him go. Slowly, you started moving in the rhythm again, a pleasant male voice singing some kind of country ballad. It was lovely. "Nothin', little lady. Just a poor excuse to do what I've been waitin' for the whole night, 's all." "You damn rascal." "That a bad thing?" "I'm fond of men who make me laugh." - Your playful tone made Joel chuckle, the vibrations carrying onto your body. He gently pulled you closer, kissing your neck while humming at your smell - he'd remembered the scent of your perfume and shampoo, and it was nice, but mixed with alcohol, Tommy and Anne's cigarette smoke, and your musk was even better. You've smelled like a good night, like a lot of laughter, sinfully beautiful.

"Think it hadn't helped yet... The method 'f yours." "Strange, helps me every damn time." - Joel played along, letting you drop back to your heels just so he could look you in the eyes. Even though the club was humid, hot as all hell and the air smelled of alcohol, cigarette and weed smoke, sweat, and too many perfumes mixed into one, Joel missed the warmth and softness of your body the moment when your heels touched the ground, putting a few inches between your bodies. "Didn't sell me on it, anyway." "My apologies, ma'am. Anythin' I can do to remedy the situation?" "Think you should try it again." - You've had him mesmerized when you ogled at him like that - your expression and gaze were innocent, but your actions hinted at everything you've had on your mind. Your gentle hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans solidified what you've alluded to and erased every doubt he had had in his mind.

"What if it won't work?" - Joel hummed, already pulling you back into his arms - his head was cocked to his shoulder, a wicked grin gracing his face. The man knew what question he was asking, his confidence boosting yours. "Think I have a thing or two on my mind, Texas." "Oh?" - He whispered, stealing a peck from you. - "Wanna share?" "'s better to show it to you." "Go on, little lady." "... Somewhere private." - You specified, losing focus for a bit. Something had caught your attention, making you smile as you started moving in the rhythm. - "I like this song. Give your method one more try, and then we can test mine?" "Your wish is my command."

Over the last few years, Joel forgot how fun it is to dance with someone - how exciting it feels when you twirl your girl around, to see her crack a smile as she comes back to his arms, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. He hadn't danced with anyone since Angela passed - thirteen fucking years. You, however, were a great choice of partner to break the streak of sitting at the bar, watching other couples snuggle and giggle, unaware of anything beyond their small little bubble. Neither of you were good dancers, per se, but that made it much more enjoyable. Joel was in his small bubble now, devoting his focus to you. Only you. Feeling you sway in the rhythm, clumsily stepping on the tips of his boots while holding to his shirt for your dear life, was the most endearing thing that happened to him recently. Even if you wouldn't meet again, he'd be grateful for this one night you've given him.

By the time the last chords of the song played (honkey-tonk banjo strumming), you'd been just like every other couple on the dancefloor - hastily stealing kisses, pressing your bodies impossibly close, tugging each other's hair, moaning and whining under your breath. You wouldn't expect this gruff cowboy man Joel to be vocal at all, but his groans actually made everything ten times better. "... Tell me it didn't work." - He muttered, roughly kneading your buttcheeks with his fingers, pressing your pelvis on his - you could feel the outline of his dick perfectly, your mouth watering. "Not in the slightest. I'm still a horrible dancer." "Thank fuckin' God." - His palm grasped yours as he turned on his heels, leading you deeper into the establishment. Joel was broad enough to make the way for both of you. He was making sure you were still following as if he couldn't feel your nails digging into his palm - he made sure a million times. His eyes periodically trailed between you and the space in front of him.

Once you entered the bathroom stall, everything got blurry - Joel's palms trailing your curves, his lips drowning in the skin of your neck, your palms holding onto his shoulders as he lowered on his knees. You wished you could take a picture of the view - Joel on his knees, one of his palms carefully lifting the hem of your t-shirt while he looked you in the eyes, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your abdomen while his other hand smoothed a trail on your upper thigh. Just as you expected, his palms were rough, full of calluses, and left a tingling sensation on your skin. Pressing his face to your abdomen and slowly getting back up, he pressed a kiss between your breasts before kissing the sweet spot on your neck again. Your breathing was irregular by the time his fingers curled around your chin.

"Are you sure you want this, little lady?" - He was purring into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and playfully nibbling on it - the reason you were still standing was clearly that he pinned you between the door and his body... Palming your hot, wet sex teasingly, applying just the right amount of pleasure at the place you needed him the most. - "I don't plan on makin' you do somethin' you'd regret later. We clear?" "Joel... Please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up." - That's all you could muster - your body begged to feel his lips, for your hands to explore everything that's been hiding under that neatly tucked shirt and perfectly fitted jeans - you could see the outline of his dick, hard as a rock, but you wanted more. You wished to look at it, have it in your mouth, swallow it whole, or gag on it, whatever he'd like. The arousal building at your center made you forget words. When you tried to kiss him, he tsk-tsked you away, applying more pressure on your clit.

"Just say the words and it's all yours, pretty girl." "Remember how I said you're a rascal?" - You whispered, grinding against his palm gently. - "You're just a... Mhm... Shit... Fucking dick." "Such an eager little thing, aren't ya?" - Joel grinned, kissing the apple of your cheek, leaving his hand in place. You seemed to be horny enough not to need his help with your endeavors - all you needed was his fucking palm.

But Joel wanted more - he needed to hear you also want it. He needed permission before destroying you, fucking your silly little head empty. He could, however, also sense the reason for your hesitancy. What was he? Just a random guy at a club pulling a chick just to fuck her at the stalls and never see her again. Understandable. Because of that, he'd been willing to give you a bit of assurance. - "C'mon, be a good girl. Use your words." "Will you spank me if I misbehave?" "If a good ol' spankin''s whatcha after... We can talk 'bout it on a date." "A date?" - Your eyes lit up, your motions stopping for a bit - to keep you occupied, Joel started applying pressure with his fingers, having you staring at him with your mouth agape. You looked... So damn hot. - "Are you serious, Texas? You want to take me out?" "Mhm, of course, little lady. You'll gimme your phone number, and I'll give you mine. You'll set the date, and I pick out the restaurant. My treat, 'f course. There, you can tell me all you want 'bout spanking that cute ass 'f yours. Sounds good?"

He was... Serious. There was a cocky smile on his lips as he watched you, but he was asking you out. No buts or ifs. No games. It took you a moment to process his proposition - his fingers lazily circling around your clit were making it fucking hard to think. "I'd... I'd love that, cowboy." "Good girl." - Joel cooed, carefully pulling strands of hair out of your eyes with his other palm, leaning his arm to the door behind you. - "What do you want me to do now?" "Everything." - You whispered, stealing a peck from his lips. - "I wanna take everything you're willing to offer. I want this, I want you, wanna feel your lips on me, your dick inside me, fuckin' Christ, I want everything."

That was all Joel needed to hear, the words to set him in motion. His hands gently cupped your head as he kissed you with passion, his mouth devouring each inch he'd kiss, his teeth gently sinking into your skin - just enough to let you feel it, but not enough to hurt you. Not caring about the tent in his jeans, he'd started lowering on his knees again, pulling your t-shirt off your body just so he could hungrily stare at your tits rising and falling with each labored breath. He couldn't but palm them, squeezing them gently. Not wasting more time, he got back to work - worshipping each inch of your skin with his palms, leaving a trail of wet kisses from your chest to your abdomen, stopping above your shorts. He didn't look at what his fingers were doing - Joel simply continued undoing the zipper and button, staring you in the eyes. His right thumb slipped on your clothed clit, having your body react immediately - shuddering, moaning upon the sensation. This wouldn't fly - you could be kicked out if you wouldn't be careful. He wished to listen to those sweet sounds, but...

"Can you somethin' for me?" "Mhm?" - You let out in response, your eyes already darkened with lust. Just a few more beats and Joel would send you heaven, he swore to himself - he started taking his flannel shirt off frantically, handing it over to you. "Bite on it, honey. We don't wanna everyone hearin' how good I make you feel, do we?" "No." - Doing as he asked you, you buried your entire face in his shirt - it smelled just like him, the discovery making you whimper. Lost in the moment, you barely noticed your panties and shorts being removed - before you grasped it, Joel was already filling the newly discovered territory with his face, spreading your thighs far apart.

Under different circumstances, Joel would be delighted to play with you - tease you, let you tiptoe on the edge of paradise before allowing you to drown in all the pleasure, pushing you towards the cliff's edge - you two, sadly, didn't have enough time. You weren't splayed over his bed, your arousal wasn't staining the sheets, and he couldn't let you scream at the top of your lungs before you'd squeeze his head with your thighs. Secondly, he was too fucking horny to hold back. Working you up with his mouth, he untangled your ankle out of your panties, throwing your leg over his shoulder - allowing himself to push as deep as possible in such conditions. His tongue collected each drop of arousal, warm pain setting in his jaw as he did his best to lick your slit clean, just like a plate of his favorite dish.

After he made sure you won't fall down, Joel put his lips to good use (sucking on your clit), and his palm started discovering the valley further below, spreading your folds teasingly. You noticed his finger slowly entering you, digit after digit - his fingers were wider and rougher than yours, filling you up better than yours ever could. Trying to muffle a loud moan, your face disappeared in the fabric of his shirt, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. Joel loved having your fingers tangled in his hair - lost to the moment, you couldn't care less about how violently you're tugging on it, each tug getting a guttural growl out of him. The sounds echoed through you, reaching into all parts of your body, pushing you over the edge.

You couldn't name what precisely caused your orgasm to approach so fucking fast - you were under the impression that usually, it took way longer for you to come. Could be anything - his smell all up your nose, his tongue flickering on your sensitive cluster of nerves at an impressive speed, his palm holding onto your thighs, or two (maybe three) fingers curling inside you. Probably everything combined. The next thing you realized was that you mumbled his name like a prayer, riding through your high on his face, trying to catch your breath as you leaned your head into the door, eyes closed, Joel religiously watching and memorizing how you liked like when you came undone. You were beautiful.

"You good?" - Joel asked after your thighs relaxed and let go of his head. His voice was raspy. It took him a bit to pick himself up (his knees went numb), but soon, he was there to steal a kiss from you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your flushed, relaxed expression was adorable - he hadn't had a woman looking at him this way in a long time. Your eyes were open lazily (offering him a tender look), your smile hinting at all the bliss circulating in your blood. "Never better, sugar." "Don't think anyone called me that before." "You like it?" - You asked, playing with the hem of his gray t-shirt, caressing his abdomen, his flannel shirt still hanging off your palm. "Gets me all railed up." - With a grin, Joel approached you, picking your leg up to circle it around his waist. The jeans felt cold against your burning and sensitive core, the rough material putting a strange edge into Joel's pelvis grinding against yours at a lazy, teasing pace. - "You want this too, baby? Think you can take it?" "I want everything."

"Okay." - He hummed, trailing his fingers along your shoulders, brushing lips over your jaw and lips. Before you knew it, his palm crept back between your thighs, his fingers sliding inside you, working you up to relax you and get the arousal going. - "How do you want it? Should I sit down? If you wanna, I can get deeper if you bend forward. C'mon, be a good girl and use your words." "Just... I want... Fuck." - Not being able to put a single sentence together, you shushed his palm and godly fingers away. Bracing yourself, you leaned into the door comfortably, shaking your ass a bit to tease him. Joel didn't hesitate to play along, slapping it to see the tender, soft skin jiggling. It didn't escape him how you almost purred, whimpering from the friction. He was half-sure you joked about the spanking bit, but seeing you get off on it put a childish grin on his face.

Before he undid his belt (your head was turned to him the entire time, hungrily watching each move), he'd pulled his wallet from one of the pockets, pulling a condom out. Biting on the aluminum packaging gently, Joel threw his wallet away carelessly, feverishly undoing his jeans before pushing the pants and underwear down to his knees. His dick sprang free, having you hypnotized while Joel put the condom on - you'd swear you hadn't seen a nicer-looking dick in your lifetime, not even in porn movies you watched. It was decently long, pre-cum leaking from the tip, with few veins giving it a nice texture. What put a slight frown on your face was the width of it. It was girthy, for the lack of a better term, massive, to say the least. The challenge excited you, giving you more reasons to take him balls deep. Moan escaped your mouth upon that thought.

"Oh, I know, baby girl." - Joel whispered, stepping closer to you, kneading your cheeks like dough - digging his fingers in one moment, lovingly squeezing them in the other. - "I'll take care of everythin', I promise. Just relax for me." "Okay, sugar." - Complying, you tried your best to relax when he ran his palms down your back, massaging soothing circles into your skin. Hearing the nickname, Joel snickered under his breath. "You gonna me drive up the fuckin' wall if you keep that nickname up."

You started to turn your head in Joel's direction to reply, but before you could do so, the tip of his dick slipped inside you - the burning sensation had you banging your first against the door, opening your mouth, eyes closed firmly, chest heaving as you adjusted to him. It wasn't unpleasant - it was just unusual - you hadn't had sex ever since that 'British stud of yours' as Anne dubbed Felix. And any toys couldn't do Joel's dick any justice. "All good, little lady?" "Mhm, never better." - Nodding, you took a long breath before lowering yourself down on his shaft, feeling it stretching you out inch by inch. There weren't many things that would make Joel Miller speechless, but watching you sliding down while his hands held your hips, hearing you muffle your whines and moans was pure fucking magic. The closer your ass got to his base, the harder it was to breathe for him.

"Look at you, sweetheart." - Joel cooed, closing the remaining gap between your bodies - the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, making you gulp. The man didn't move for a solid minute, letting you relax and adjust, rubbing soothing circles into your hips. - "This would make a man lose his damn mind, Jesus fuckin' Christ. You're doin' so fuckin' well for me." "That dick would make any woman lose their mind too, Texas." - Saying that, you giggled, unintentionally tightening around him - Joel's hips buckled in response, making you whine happily. - "You can move, yannow that? I ain't made of glass." "Promise to tell me it'd get uncomfortable for you, yeah?" - The man asked, kissing your shoulder. Nodding, you lazily smiled at him. "Promise."

In a few thrusts, you could perfectly understand why Joel promised he'd stop if things got uncomfortable for you - he struggled to find his tempo, sloppily thrusting in and out of you in unforgiving, needy movements. But as soon as he found his footing? His movements became determined and precise, each trust stretching your tight walls gently, almost lovingly. He was gripping your hips, the nailbeds digging into your smooth, gentle skin - so tightly that you'd swear you'd have small remnants of him with you in the morning. Anytime he felt like it, he'd make you meet his dick halfway, breathlessly snickering at your ecstatic expression. You both mumbled nonsense, motivating each other to keep going, movements growing desperate as you started chasing your highs. Without Joel needing to mutter a word, your palm sneaked to your clit, your fingers rubbing frantic get gentle circles around the bundle of nerves.

"'M gonna... 'M gonna..." - Joel muttered religiously, palming one of your breasts to gently play with your nipple. "Just a bit longer, and I'm... Fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel." - It came across as a pathetic whine - the tip of his dick brushing against the most sensitive spot inside you. The burst of warmth and pleasure made you shudder, meowling to your forearm as you tried to keep your shit together. "Ya with me?" - Joel pressed on, his brain barely capable of making meaningful sentences. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes." - As he brushed the spot again, a mind-numbing orgasm washed over you. For a moment, you didn't know who the fuck you were, what your name was, where you were, or whom you were with. All you could feel was concentrated pleasure washing over your body, leaving you whining and moaning into the fabric of his shirt before letting it fall to the ground. Joel's last trusts were sloppy, almost too brutal, but soon, he was grunting as his load leaked into the condom.

"Jesus." - He muttered, gently slipping out - the emptiness hit you like a truck, almost leaving you begging for more. You'd beg if you could form any word on your tongue. - "How we doin', little lady? All parts where they should be?" - He whispered, gently helping you to stand up as he pulled your underwear and shorts back where they belonged. If you'd let him, he'd memorize how you looked - sweaty, breathing irregularly with a contained expression. Every inch of your skin was a masterpiece Joel'd carve into wood just to have it always with him. Fucking on a bathroom stall, however, wasn't the right place or time to ask for some lovey-dovey nonsense.

"You some kind of mechanic or what? I'm good, don't worry 'bout me. Gave me exactly what I wanted." "There she is, the sassy little sweetheart I couldn't get 'nough of. And... Somethin' like that. I'm a carpenter." - Joel explained, ensuring you looked somewhat presentable. It wouldn't be gentlemanly to let you walk around looking like a cute, freshly fucked mess - no matter how much this idea aroused him, letting all the men who eyed you over the night know that he was the one you chose to have the time of your day with. Instead of answering, you started laughing, catching him off-guard. - "What's funny 'bout me bein' a carpenter, hm?" "Nothin', nothin'." - You whispered, shushing his palms away to control your make-up. Well, it was decently smudged but still presentable. With how Anne looked before you and Joel took an abrupt detour to the stalls, you'd be soon on your way home anyway. - "I'll be working for a carpenter, starting fairly soon. It's just a funny coincidence, 's all."

"I see. He's a lucky man, then." - Joel hummed, caressing the apple of your cheek with his fingers before letting you steal a peck from you. - "If you'd be workin' for me, I wouldn't keep my fuckin' hands off you, sweet girl. You tell him you have another carpenter in town who wouldn't waste a second hirin' you, yeah?" "You don't mean that. That's the sex talkin'." "On my honor. If he won't treat you respectfully, yannow who to call. I can always use some help." - Teasingly slapping your ass, Joel picked his shirt and wallet off the ground, adjusting his belt and jeans. - "There's the business card, you call this number, yeah? The second one. The first one's for my office. And as a promise, you take this with ya." - Carefully, he tugged you into the shirt, smoothing your upper arms. - "'s my lucky shirt. I never go out in anythin' else. You better keep an eye out." "This gets the ladies going?" - Was what you replied, pushing your arms through the sleeves and buttoning up the lower half of the shirt. Ensuring you won't lose the card, you pushed it inside your phone case, showing it to Joel. "It got you goin', didn't it?" "Was that bloody smirk 'f yours, asshole." "Never been turned on by anyone callin' me an asshole. Whatcha doin' to me, girl? You ready to go?" - The lock was undone, and as a gesture of gratitude (and another promise), Joel offered you his palm to hold onto. To your surprise, he let you entwine your fingers with him without protesting. "Yeah. Let's go."

Thankfully, when you walked back onto the humid, heavy-aired club, Tommy and Anne were still dancing - both appeared heavily intoxicated, holding each other tightly, dancing to a sweet serenade. That, thankfully, meant no questioning for either you or Joel. As you also predicted, Anne wanted to go home when she spotted you hanging out by the bar.

Joel and Tommy helped you find a taxi, settling Anne down in the backseat - it was raining heavily, all of you jogging to the car with laughter. The night started to get cold. It was time to go home, lulled by the prospect of a date - the man in question was just pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing your temple, whispering sweet nothings and goodbyes to your ear. Tommy, even though he was usually as perceptive as a stomp, left you alone and moved to smoke under a nearby umbrella, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you being all cheesy and lovey-dovey - he knew better than to mutter a word. Joel'd definitely fire back at him.

"Here's the money for the ride, tip included. Take 'em wherever they want to, the rest's yours." - Joel leaned into the cab, handing the driver a hefty bill while patting the roof - what a typical gesture. Staring at him in shock, you shook your head in disapproval - Anne pointed at him with a drunkard giggle. "I'm startin' to like your grumpy Texan ass more 'n more." "What a compliment." - Joel answered with pure irony. - "Take care, ladies. Text me when you get home, 'kay, sweetheart?" "Will do, sir. But betcha ass we'll be discussing this later." - Vaguely pointing to the driver, you spared Joel one last smile before the cab took off, driving you home. - "Take care!" - You cried out, watching his figure disappear in the distance.

Getting Anne to your room without waking up the whole block was a superhuman task - she'd trip over nothing, kept on shushing you (even though you hadn't said a word), giggling under her breath as she tried to keep her balance. You expected Mom to bust in at any minute, but only Sam inspected the ruckus. "Jesus fuckin' Christ." - The girl muttered, rubbing her eyes sleepily. The sight was hilarious, you needed to admit - Anne was sitting on the edge of your bed, rocking from side to side while attempting to take off her shoes. Her tongue, as usual, was sticking out of the corner of her mouth with pure concentration. - "I take it that the night was good?" "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Go to sleep now, yeah?" - Smoothing her shoulder, you watched as Sammy nodded sleepily and started retreating toward her room.

Before going to sleep, you made sure Anne's clothes were hung enough to dry out before she departed after tomorrow's dinner, and that her hair was neatly covered with a towel. As promised, before hitting the sack, you sent Joel a short text to let him know you're both safe at home, wishing him a good night. The night was something - sex with Joel helped you sober up, and thanks to Anne's overwhelming, unmissable snoring, you took one hell of a time to fall asleep. While Anne was knocked out in an instant, you had to roll around for quite some time before you finally fell asleep - dreaming of Joel, his big hands, honest smiles, and passionate kisses.

"Are you fuckin' with me? That happened? And it was that good?" - Anne squealed, pushing half a waffle inside her mouth. Her appetite (despite the hangover she must've had) always surprised you. Nobody should be this hungry after digesting such an ungodly amount of alcohol... Nobody. Sam, responsible for bringing you a very late breakfast to bed, had her eyes glued to your lips, listening to how you described what had happened in the bathroom stalls. - "... Didn't even notice you two were gone." "No wonder. You two were fucking out of it. They were wobbling around to Long Long Time by the time we got back, both sobbing their asses off." "Uh-uh, that didn't fuckin' happen. Don't believe a word comin' out of this wench's mouth, Sammy." "In all fairness, it's a solid song." - Sam reiterated, having Anne snapping, humming approvingly. "Amen, sister. Girl knows her stuff."

"Back to the guy. So you texted him goodnight? As he asked?" - Sam pried further, laying down as she stared at you. "Mhmh." "Had he replied?" "Yes." "WHAT DID HE-?" - Anne squealed even louder, earning an elbow to her side. Rubbing the spot, she looked at you. - "Bitch, you hadn't told me he actually reached back out. What did the super hot, hunky, gruff cowboy say? Spill it." "Well, he wished me a good morning for starters, unlike someone..." - Alluding to how Anne's first sentence consisted of 'Girl, I don't know if it's gonna come outta my mouth or ass first, so you better move' and keeping the duo tensed up, a smile spread on your lips. - "He started asking when I was free but told me he couldn't go out today because of this dinner with his best buddy. So... I have a date tomorrow." "You're shitting me!" - Anne muttered, giggling her ass off. "Dude, keep it the fuck down. I don't wanna explain this to my mom." "Yeah, yeah, whatever. What's your take on the situation, young padawan?" - Without sparing you a look, Anne just waved you off and pointed her fork in Sam's direction.

"He sounds like a genuinely great guy. A bit of an age difference? No prob, sis. On the other hand, if you'd bring home an eighty-year-old gramps with diapers and prescribed meds..." "Samantha!" - Gasping for air, you threw a strawberry her way - grinning from ear to ear, Sam caught in on her first try. - "'s that what you think of me? Thank you kindly. That's so fucked up." "You asked me a question, and I gave you an answer. Grow up. But no cap - you're glowing just talking about the guy. You're all flustered, giggly, playing with your hair and... It's nice to see you like that." "She ain't wrong... She ain't wrong at all."

Dinner preparations consisted of pure chaos - Fleetwood Mac's biggest hits playing out of your dad's stereo as you helped around the kitchen, Anne occasionally dipping to comment on the baseball game your dad watched in the living room. The entire house was pristine, not a dust particle in sight as if the Queen of England was about to drop for a visit. Your mom pulled out her best decorations and fanciest set of plates, asking you to decorate them with napkins. Sam was with you the entire time, carefully watching your moves as if you weren't real - even giving in to dance with you to Dreams, both laughing as you clumsily wobbled around the dining room.

When it was around 4pm, you all hid in Sam's room to make yourselves look presentable - Sammy opted for a cutesy wollen vest, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. With her hair styled in a high ponytail, she looked genuinely cutesy. Anne borrowed one of the fancy dresses you used to wear for work, pairing it with her pair of good ol' trusty pair of Vans - as per usual, Anne would've looked hot as fuck even if she'd worn a potato bag. You opted for a more casual, relaxed fit. You dug out a flowy black dress with polka dots all over it, choosing a relaxed hairstyle and light layer of make-up to go with it. You assumed you didn't have to sit around dressed like you were waiting for a job interview since the guy was your dad's best friend.

"They're here!" - Mom cried out over the music blasting in the living room - your dad changed it to good ol' Bruce Spingsteen's Born in the U.S.A. "Aight, how do I look?" - You asked, twirling around to let both the girls see - you wanted to leave a good first impression on your soon-to-be employer and a trusted family friend, as well as on his brother. "You're looking good. I've told you a million times already - Joel doesn't make a fuss about such things. I've worked for him for a year and a half, so I'd be the one to know." - Sam muttered, rolling her eyes. She'd spent the last hour assuring you looked amazing and impressionable, that was much true. - "Just come already, Jesus. You'll relax once you see him." - With that, she started descending the stairs, loudly greeting the guests.

"Like a snack." - Anne suggested, having you shaking your head. "Not the time..." "What if he's like... Smoking hot?" "He's also my dad's best friend. No way in hell..." "Never say never." "That's why I usually don't ask for your fucking input, Anne." "Chill, girl, you got this. Take a breath, shake the nerves off... You look fucking amazing, and you're way smarter than... Oh... Oh, fuck." - She was standing on top of the stairs, her palm clutching the railing until her knuckles turned white. All emotion suddenly drained from her expression, her face growing pale, and her eyes widened at the sight. Slowly, you peeked around the corner, your eyes meeting the strangers immediately.

What if he was smoking hot, huh? Well, you knew for a fact he was. Those lips were kissing you yesterday. Those palms chalked up the cue for you, teasing you how to play billiard without getting a cramp in your palm. These eyes watched you as if you were the only woman in the club, following each step you took, his palm never shying away from grasping the small of your back. You saw him undress for you. You felt him pounding into you when he chased his release. You listened to his voice pouring sweet nothings and perverted, arousing nonsense into your ears as he fucked you. You had his number saved in his phone. You had a date set with him. It was Joel. Joel, the mysterious hunky gruff cowboy. Joel, who was staring back at you with the same horror in his eyes. Joel, who was your dad's best fucking friend.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck indeed.

Thank you for reading! 🩷 Reblogs and comments are appreciated; in case you have any questions or scenarios you'd like to see, hmu in dms or under the post. 🩷 Have a nice day!

#dbf!joel #dbf!joel x afab!reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #tommy miller #tommy miller the last of us #well boys #here we fucking go #the cat's out of the bag #everything's doom and gloom #also I love writing for tommy #he's so fun to play around with #smutty smut smut #dbf!joel brainrot be too strong for my sorry lil ass #like lord help me #this man is too much for me

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jaylienpotter · 8 months

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*~Masterlist~*

¦ Jaylienpotter on Ao3 ¦

¦ Intro on alt: @boyswillbebugs ¦

¦ Bellatrix RP: @bestblacksister ¦

Ao3 fic: Shedded Snake

(TW: r*pe/non-con; read tags and notes!)

Regulus Black's life changed when he was raped by his best friend and roommate Barty Crouch Jr. Not wanting to ruin the environment of their shared friend group, he kept the traumatic event to himself. The only one who knew about it was, surprisingly, his brother's best friend, James Potter, after a confrontation in the hallway. Follow Reg as he tries to overcome and heal from the trauma, while falling for the one helping him in this journey.

Ao3 fic: For you, anything

James Potter's life turns upside down when Lily - his wife and mother of their two year old son - asked for a divorce. Will he lose himself in the midst of a failed marriage and joined custody? Sirius Black has been in love with his best friend for over a decade. After offering for James and his son Harry - Sirius's godson - to move in, will he manage to keep his feelings a secret?

Prompt tumblr blogs

A list of tagged tumblr blogs that give you prompts! Both Marauders-based (general or specific ships) and unspecified/general prompts. Hope it's helpful!

Prongsfoot Bingo

A challenge to complete a set of 16 prompts about James x Sirius

The bingo card

Raising Harry snippet

Mutual Coming Out (Ao3)

Let them be

A small collection of 9 chapters/parts, each one about a character and their relationship with gender, sexuality, feminism, or love.

Let boys wear trousers

Let boys wear skirts

Let people want both

Let people want none

Standalones

Prompts or something random that I remembered turned into microfics (sometimes not so micro), not connected to each other. Not including those short chats.

Jegulus proposal

James gets trans Reg a dick (light nsfw, fluff)

Lily and Sirius sibling problems solidarity

Jegulus "don't go" prompt

Rosekiller brews amortentia

Sirius finds out about Jegulus

Jegulus raise Harry

Coffee shop AU Jegulus

Drunk Regulus confesses

Trans Regulus runs away

Jegulus breakup

Trans Regulus and intimacy (fluff, implied sex)

Regulus is taken in by the Potters

Regulus tells James he was SA (Ao3) (READ THE TW!!)

Prongsfoot (romantic) meet through pottery

James can't stop thinking about stranger Sirius Black (prongsfoot)

Muggle AU James crushing on artist Sirius

Prongsfoot (romantic) bonding over text

James meets Sirius's friends at his birthday (prongsfoot)

Sirius approves of Jegulus

James gives Lily a sweet bday gift (Jily)

Regulus defends James to Lily

Harry Oblivious Potter (Golden Trio Era)

Snippets of WIP Rock 'N' Roll Suicide

The fic (not published yet) is Wolfstar, mostly canon-compliant, focuses on Sirius as a person and his character growth.

Very heavy but most of the posts on tumblr will be of more casual parts of the fic.

Quidditch teams debate

James finds out Sirius bottoms (light nsfw)

Wolfstar coming out to James

Eclipse WIP

James is a single dad and Harry has advanced cancer. He wishes to meet his favourite author before he dies (R.A.B). Regulus agrees to it and falls in love with James.

E-mail to the author

Headcanons

My personal headcanons/theories about the characters :)

My personal ships

Blind Regulus

Peter Pettigrew headcanons

Different ships in cottages

Marauders Era dancing AU/headcanons ft. reggiecantswimm (a thread)

Marauders Era health headcanons

Lesbian Wolfstar

Alcoholic Remus Lupin (TW: addiction)

Prongstail (James x Peter) hcs

Regulus and Lily friendship

Marauders and the Holidays

Ideas I won't write

Feel free to use them as long as you credit me and tag me (I wanna read!)

Remus goes back in time

Two dimensions cross

Formation of Jegulily [might write]

Toxic mix of Wolfstar, Starchaser and one-sided Prongsfoot

Smut (18+)

Small scenes/one-shots with explicit sex (check the TW/CW)

Wolfstar chastity cage (Ao3)

Jegulus kitchen sex (Ao3)

Wolfstar x James threesome (Ao3)

Knife play Rosekiller (Ao3)

#marauders #marauders era #the marauders #marauders fandom #harry potter marauders #dead gay wizards #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #masterlist

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ghostussy · 8 months

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Fuck it. You got sold to ghost for drug money. Deal with it.

ao3 link

It's early in the morning when your bedroom door swings open, your mother entering unannounced.

"Rise and shine, shitthead," she slurs, already reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. "Pack your bags!"

"Wh-"

"Get up, get up!" She yells, rushing to push you out of the bed. "Pack your shit, you're leaving!" You hit the floor with a loud thump.

"Mom-"

"I'm not your mom anymore. Your new dad is downstairs, I sold you for drug money."

'You have got to be shitting me. What kind of teenage fanfic of a life is this?' You think to yourself. You pull yourself off of the floor, stumbling as your mother leaves the room and slams the door behind her. You can hear her singing drunkenly as she walks downstairs.

'Guess I have no time to waste.'

. . .

Some time later you walk downstairs carrying a bag containing your few important belongings. You stop by the bathroom on the way, grabbing your toiletries and throwing your hair into a quick messy bun. No time to waste, you think, glancing in the mirror. Two bright blue orbs stare back, eyes bright like the ocean.

As you enter the living room, your overhear your mother speaking to someone.

"They're a troublemaker, that one. Here's the birth certificate, social security card... Oh, don't try to open a credit card in their name, by the way. It'll just get denied."

Rounding the corner that leads into the kitchen, you nearly bump into a man. At first glance, he's terrifying.

White and black face paint completely obscures his features, giving him a skull-like appearance. He's taller than you, but short in stature. He wears a black pair of torn jeans matched with a frilly shirt, complete with a blue tie.

Suddenly, your mom spots you. "It's about damn time," she grumbles, her expression turning into a scowl. "Y/n, meet your new dad. Say 'hi, daddy.'"

You freeze, and so does the man. He turns to you, looking apprehensive. "Er, Papa is fine. How are you, dear?" His tone seems soft, genuine.

"Um-"

"Excuse me, can we hurry this up? You can have your sweet little introduction in the car." Your mom opens the front door and ushers the two of you outside. "I have things to do, so out!"

"Sheesh, is she always like that?" The man asks, the two of you standing outside your former mother's front door. You shrug, and the man sighs. "Very well, then. Let us go."

He leads you to his car. It's nice, albeit old. He opens the passenger door, allowing you to climb in before taking your bag and loading it in the trunk. Then he gets in the driver's side, starting the car.

"So, eh..." You can tell the man is trying to make polite conversation. "You like the car? It is nice, no?"

"Sure," you murmur quietly.

"It is a 1968 Buick Le Sabre," he continues. "My old man claims she is, eh, a 'piece of shit,' but- she runs like a dream!" He exclaims that last part, glancing in your direction. Then he coughs awkwardly, pulling out of the driveway. "Very nice," he murmurs to himself.

The rest of the ride continues in awkward silence, until you pull up at a giant church. Fuck, I got sold to Catholics, you think miserably. That is, until you notice the upside down cross on the front of the building. Fuck, I got sold to a cult.

#the band ghost #shitghosting #drabbles

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lemony-7 · 10 months

Text

~MY HERO ACADEMIA FIC RECS PART 2~

appassionato (for a halcyon winter) by bonnia (oneshot // 29k)

“That boy…” His mother gives him a tired smile. “The music he plays is incredibly sad, isn’t it?” Shouto blinks, because Bakugou’s music has never made him feel anything but an inexplicable feeling of freedom. But that’s the beauty of it, he supposes — that the meaning of music lies in the ears of its beholder. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I think it’s beautiful.” (or: todoroki shouto is a pianist who had sworn never to play the piano again, and bakugou katsuki is the unpredictable maelstrom of a violinist who turns his monotonous world upside down)

TW: Vague descriptions of terminal illnesses and child abuse.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

TODOBAKU, AU: No Quirks, Todoroki Shouto-centric

The FEELS. Oh shit, they hit me like a truck. I cried while watching Your Lie In April and I cried while reading this. I am in love with this fic and the idea of musicians!todobaku occupies my brain 24/7.

2. Alcohol Speaks Louder Than Words by CelticMoone (incomplete // currently at 6k)

“I don’t think so,” his dad said, wiping his chin with the back of his palm to rid himself of the dribble of wine that fell from his lips. “And why the hell not? You feeling threatened?” Katsuki challenged. Hitoshi was sure he was delirious at this point. There was no way in hell he was sitting in his father’s home, listening to Katsuki drunkenly argue for his hand in marriage. That just didn’t compute. Damn, he’d really have to apologize to Denki for all the times he’d teased him for frying his brain. Hitoshi now knew exactly what it felt like and, man, oh man, was it literal torture. “I shouldn’t be the one afraid of threats, Bakugo. If you so much as lay an unholy finger on my son I will make sure your life is a living hell.” His father’s words were chilling. His face sported a less than comforting grin, hands folded neatly under his chin. OR Katsuki and Hitoshi get married whilst drunk, much to Aizawa's chagrin. Come join my brainrot in attempts to see how this will play out :)

No TWs Apply.

Genre: Fluff & Smut

SHINBAKU, Drunken Confessions, Getting Together

Adorable. These idiots are whipped for each other and Aizawa Suffers because of it lol.

3. To Watch You Fall (is a beautiful thing) by ChaoticHeart (complete // 62k, 10 chapters)

Aizawa has witnessed many relationships bloom over the course of his years teaching at U.A. In the end, whether these relationships last or not doesn’t matter to him. He has never been invested in the romantic endeavors of his students, and it’s easier to view their relationships with a sense of detachment, knowing that many of them will inevitably crash and burn. They’re all so young- they’ll get it right eventually, he would say to himself. But this… this is Hitoshi they’re talking about, and suddenly, like a switch being thrown, Aizawa finds himself caring all too much about the personal lives of his students. He never thought he’d be in a position to watch his adopted son slowly fall in love (with Class 1-A’s resident gremlin, of all people), yet here he is.

TW: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Genre: Fluff, Romance

SHINBAKU, minor/background ERASERMIC, Outsider POV

This was such a satisfying ride. Although it is outsider POV (Aizawa's), it all feels very clear. I love how EraserMic are polar opposites lol. The fic came together beautifully and I loved the slow descent of how Shinsou and Bakugou got together (though maybe Aizawa was getting a bit impatient-).

4. allow me the pleasure of loving you by pyrrhicwildfire (series of oneshots // total 15k // complete)

TODOBAKU, Fluff and Romance

My babies are adorable as hell and their shenanigans? Amusing as well.

5. Motivation to a Realization by NeonBlackRoseRevived (oneshot // 5k)

It's common for first years in the Heroics course at U.A to write a mandatory essay on how and why they would become a villain. No, this is not some attempt and making sure there are no traitors, and no this is not done to discriminate between quirks. This essay is used to get future heroes thinking about what-if's that could make or break them. This is for future heroes to know what to do, what to expect if one ever deflects or something else happens to make them become villains. Bakugou doesn't want to write this stupid essay, but like hell, he's going to get himself kicked out of the Heroics course for not completing it.

TW: Implied Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Implied Sexual Assault, Molestation, Kidnapping, Implied Human Trafficking, Implied Panic Attacks

Genre: Angst, Hurt

GEN, Bakugou Katsuki-centric

Hoo, boy. That's a heavy list. In all fairness though, it's not very graphic but I have to say this fic mentions some awful events. Not everyone's cup of tea but it summed up Bakugou's character very well. The writing was top-notch as well.

#mha #bnha #fic recs #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #shinsou hitoshi #shinbaku #todobaku #bakugou katsuki-centric #shinsou hitoshi-centric #todoroki shouto-centric #bakushin #bakutodo #angst #fluff

56 notes · View notes

ashes-writing · 11 months

Text

stranger things ● forever, pt 2 ● s.harrington

warnings

{ part 1 } <- can be found by clicking. everything else I've started will be updated asap. this just grabbed hold and i had to lean into it, that's why there are two updates for it in one day.

Angst, hurt comfort, internal angst (because reader/you and Steve apparently love to overthink fucking everything), baby talk (your kid is 3. she's still grasping speech.), so much dad!steve fluff omg, robin has a crush and might get the girl, (Barb. it's barb and i am fully prepared to die all alone on this hill.), small town judgment and rumors and shit ( if curious.. this has both to do with eventual Robin/Barb and also bc stevie, in my mind, looks like she could be steve's actual daughter bc drama ), huge changes to seasons 1 thru 4 (Everyone but Jason lives, Max is not in between life or death, Billy's brush with death has redeemed him.. slightly, starcourt is rebuilt, the portal to the upside down is closed PERMANENTLY), vaguely hinted at that Vecna may have mentally tortured Steve and it may have gotten in his head a little when Vecna 'attacked' his mind in my version of events for this, alcohol/smoking mentions, eventual filth (probably gonna have Steve's known breeding k*nk front and center, fwiw.), swearing, arguing, roommates trope eventually, slow burn (as slow as I can tolerate tbh ), reader has not had a very good life prior to Hawkins, ( more will come on that later trust me )

Reader/you are Robin Buckley's cousin. Reader/You was born female and you identify as female with female parts and a 3 year old daughter named Stevie and reader/you have personality + a past and backstory. This is self indulgent and I do not apologize.

word count

5302 exactly. I uh.. got carried away.

summary

Robin thinks what you’ve just said is hilarious and she’s doubled over laughing as she pauses to look at you and shake her head. “You don’t know Steve. Trust me. This will not get annoying for him. And anyway,” Robin rolls onto her stomach and looks at you, “He likes her.”

aka, the one in which Robin -and Steve also Barb watch Stevie while you try to interview for a job.

taglist + shoutouts

-- taglist is here. if you wish to be added click the bolded part to be taken to it. if you're here for eddie/gareth or other guys from ST and don't want to be tagged please let me know.

@allelitesmut

@chaoticcancer - just wait. my heart was also like ahhhh.. writing these two parts. I really hope you like this, thank you for reading!

@caravelofthesun

@dylanwritesgood

@eddiemuns0nl0ver

@just-a-blue-nerd

@music4life42

@slyisbehindyou

@spaceconveyor

@tbmunson bestie. babe. babesss. i had to do this okay? we needed it. and i proceeded to go ham. oopsies.

other links

masterlist ● steve's masterlist ● about + rules

TWO

You must've put in an application at every place imaginable all over town. It's been a week and the phone lines have been silent. You're starting to wonder if you'll get any callbacks.

"Will you relax? Someone will call, okay?" Robin speaks up from the doorway of her room. You sink down to sit on the bed. "I'm seriously having my doubts."

"They will." Robin is unwrapping a bomb pop and holding it out to Stevie. Stevie takes it and climbs up onto your lap. You grimace at her reddened shoulders from an afternoon spent in the kiddie end of Hawkins pool and she leans back against you as Robin leans forward to hit play on yet another movie Steve Harrington rented for your daughter. Tonight it's Alice in Wonderland and as the opening credits roll, you're surprised to find yourself wondering what he's doing at the moment. It's a thought quickly buried as deep as you can.

As Alice finds herself in Wonderland on the television screen, your aunt's landline rings and you slip off the couch so Stevie goes to sit in Robin's lap. Until she remembers the glittery 'picture' she drew earlier and goes to get them both because she's made one for Steve too, a little thank you for being so nice to her when she knows she might be annoying at times.

"Who's this one for?" Robin asks, looking at the squiggles, circles and squares covered in glitter and drawn in vibrant red marker beneath. The purple glitter is falling off the page, settling on Robin’s bed.

"Steve. I make him dragon. Only he doesn't breathe fire, he breathes toasts."

Robin laughs and smiles. "I see that. I'm gonna put mine right here. On my bulletin board." She hugs Stevie again and Stevie is hugging back, playing with her hair.

"'Kay!" Stevie laughs, looking up at Robin. “I like Steve. He’s sooooo nice.”

“Oh you do, huh?” Robin laughs again. Stevie nods.

You wander back in and Robin speaks up. “Well?”

“That was the secretary job I applied for? I’m a ‘risk’ but they’re willing to give me a shot?” you’re still a little shocked because when you applied for the secretary position at some office in town, they were literally the last stop. You didn’t think they’d even look at your application, let alone hire you. “They want me to come in for face to face interviews tomorrow.”

Then it hits you. Your aunt Janet has to work. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I can’t, Robin.. Your mom has to work.”

“And?”

“And, I can’t take Stevie. I also can’t leave her alone.” you bite your lip as you mull it over.

Robin speaks up. “I’ll take her to Family Video with me. I’ve got a shorter shift tomorrow and it’s gonna be slow as hell anyway.”

“Robin…” you eye her warily.

“I’ll take her.” Robin repeats, firmer. “It’ll be fun. Won’t it, Stevie?” Robin gazes down at Stevie. “A little help here?” she asks, fluffing Stevie’s hair. Stevie is nodding. “Please, mama? I be so good.”

“Okay, sweetie, but aunt Robin is working. You have to be a good girl.”

Robin laughs. “Relax. She’s an angel.” she looks over at you and now both of them are begging.

“Okay, alright. Fine. The second I have money again I’ll pay–” you start to tell Robin you’ll pay her but she’s already shaking her head. “You’re not. I wanted to do it.”

“Okay, but.. For whatever reason, she’s attached to your friend. It might get annoying, Robin.” you point out after turning your attention back to the television for a few minutes and having a little more time to think about it. You’re grasping at straws because you’re already seeing Stevie form a little bit of an attachment to Robin’s best friend slash co-worker and you’re just so afraid that sooner or later, the novelty is going to wear off for the guy, leaving your little girl heartbroken and missing something she’s never actually had and most likely never will.

A father.

“Yeah. Now, in theory, when he only has to deal with her a few minutes here and a few there. A whole day with her underfoot is different.” you take a deep breath. “I’m just..”

“I get it. You don’t want Stevie to get too attached.” Robin mumbles quietly, nodding in agreement. “You need the job, right?”

“Well, yeah, I’d like to find an apartment sooner or later. I’d like to be able to do things for Stevie..” you trail off, letting the rest of your sentence go unsaid. Because Robin knows exactly how awful your mom was now, the two of you had a really long talk recently. You finally told her everything that’s been going on, full honesty. Instead of letting her believe everything was fine like you’d done before.

Robin nods. A grim look on her face as she shakes her head. “I wish you’d told me and Mom everything way sooner.”

“I didn’t want you guys to worry.” you answer, going quiet. “Okay, alright. Don’t let her annoy him, please?” you give Robin a pleading look and Robin nods. “I’m telling you though,” she insists, “Stevie is not annoying to him. Like… not even a little.”

“Robin.” you laugh and shake your head. “He’s probably got an image or something.”

“Yeah, as a giant dingus.” Robin states, laughing. “I know what you’re thinking. Just stop overthinking already, okay? Steve Harrington is a good guy. He’s not going to treat her like dirt because she’s three.”

You blow at damp strands as they fall down into your eyes. “I just.. She’s never really like.. Attached herself to a person like this before.”

“Could have everything to do with her mommy being stingy.” Robin teases gently, laughing as she looks up at you. Stevie wanders back in with a yogurt cup and spoon. Robin reaches out, pulling her up before you even get the chance. “Guess what, sparkles?”

“Yeah?”

“Your mom finally gave in. We win. You can come to work with me tomorrow.” Robin and Stevie share a laugh and Robin takes Stevie’s spoon and takes a bite of yogurt for herself. “We can watch movies all day.”

“Yay!” Stevie claps her hands together in excitement. “Will my fwiend be there?”

Robin laughs softly. You tense up slightly. Look at your daughter with a soft smile as you warn, “Sweetie, you don’t need to bother him too much, okay?”

“Otay.” Stevie nods. But she has no intention of listening because she likes being around Steve. He’s nice. Really nice. And he gives her piggyback rides sometimes. He tells her stories about dinosaurs and some weird thing called basketball that he used to play and really likes a lot. He showed her how to tie her favorite purple sneaker earlier when he dropped off her aunt Robin after work, because her shoe was untied and he said he didn’t want her to fall on her face.

CONTINUED

The morning comes too early. And it’s off to a not so good start. You’re rushing around because you forgot to set an alarm the night before, and the button’s popped off the only ‘suitable’ shirt you own for an interview.

Stevie’s missing her shoe and she can’t find her current favorite stuffed animal, a stuffed husky that Robin won out of the claw machine outside of Big Buy when they went in to pick up groceries for your aunt Janet. So she’s upset. Robin spots the shoe and holds it up. “Aha! I knew it was in here somewhere!”

“Fank you!” Stevie throws her arms around Robin’s neck. Robin grabs the hair brush from her dresser and motions for Stevie to sit in front of her. You laugh. “She’s tender-headed.” you warn as you flip over your own hair and try to make something out of the wild and thick mess of curls you have going on now, no thanks to your old reliable blow dryer quitting earlier. You’re in the midst of scrunching your hair to create a more defined curl pattern when Stevie wanders over, bending down to look up at you through a curtain of hair. “Mama! Mama, your skirt dirty.”

“Shit.” you say it without stopping to think and just as Stevie looks as if she’ll repeat it, you tack on quickly, “Mommy didn’t mean t’ say that, cupcake. You’re still a baby. That’s an adult word.”

“I know.” Stevie answers, giggling. “It sound funny.”

“It’s not, though.” you smile at your daughter and laugh softly. “You’ll let your aunt Robin braid your hair but you won’t let me? I might cry.”

“Don’t, mama. It’s just aunt Wobin do it better!”

You pout a little, flipping your hair over to stand and look in the mirror. Robin notices the stain on your skirt too and nods to your aunt’s room across the hall. “My mom’s got a suit or something? I think?”

You nod. After digging through your suitcase, you happen to find a modest -and totally shapeless, t shirt style black dress, you grab that and rush down the hall into the bathroom of the trailer to change.

“This looks like I’m wearing a trash bag. If I wind up working at this place I’m gonna have to get dressier stuff.” you wrinkle your nose at the thought. Because it’s money you don’t want to have to spend, but if you could luck into getting this secretary job, you’d be thrilled because it’ll be more money than you’ve ever made at once before.

And the job actually has insurance.

Robin’s friend Barb pulls to a stop outside and Robin’s giddy, laughing and smiling as if she could float. She drops a quick kiss to Stevie’s head and hugs you, lingering in the doorway. “I’ll see you in a little bit!”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah!”

After Robin’s gone, you scramble some eggs and squeeze an orange to make some juice for Stevie and as she eats ketchup covered scrambled eggs and a piece of fried ham, you try to finish getting ready.

You hate the shapeless dress, it’s one of your least favorite articles of clothing and even adding a belt to it doesn’t do anything to make it look better. You laugh at yourself in your cousin’s full length mirror on the back of her closet door and you toss the belt at your open suitcase on the bed. “Just get it over with. You’re probably not getting the job anyway, they said you were a risk to hire.”

Stevie’s sitting on the floor watching you. “We go, mama?”

“Yeah, we should get going,cupcake. Turn off the tv.”

Stevie pushes the button to turn off the television atop the dresser at the foot of Robin’s bed and you scoop her up,carrying her out. As the two of you walk out of the trailer, the girl with red hair is outside skateboarding again.

Stevie gives her a wave and the redhead waves back, quick to turn back to her skateboarding. The muscular blond with the mullet is leaned in the open door again, you can feel him staring. When he grins at you, cigarette smoke billowing out of his mouth, you manage a stiff wave and turn your attention to getting Stevie fastened into her car seat.

It’s a hard pass on the guy for you. He’s exactly the type of guy who fathered Stevie when you were 17. You are not going down that road again. And as you slip into the driver seat, a thought pops up out of nowhere. Surprises you a little when it does.

,, he’s not as handsome as Steve Harrington, either.” and as soon as this thought rises, you’re quick to shove it back down.

He’s definitely not an option.. You know, if you were even considering anything. The last thing any guy your age is going to want is to get a package deal and you’re just not willing to settle for anybody who won’t love and cherish your little girl as much as you do.

As you drive into town, you hum along with the radio, watch as the tree lined blacktop turns to buildings and houses. You pull to a stop in the parking lot of Family Video right around the same time that Robin and her friend Barb are pulling to a stop. You watch as Barb leans in closer to your cousin and you smile softly to yourself.

Robin mentioned someone in her letters around Valentines Day. You’re wondering if Barb might be the girl she mentioned. You hope so, because the way Barb looks at your cousin when she’s not looking is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen with your own eyes, hands down. Robin spots you as the two pull away from their super close conversation and she grins brightly, waving.

As Robin and Barb wander over, Stevie’s already grumbling as she fusses with the way her upper harness in the seat likes to hang up. “I just wanna get out! Stupit buckle.” as she fumes and keeps trying to work with it, you lean over and unfasten it. Gently caressing her chubby little cheeks as you look into big brown eyes. “Mama will be back later to get you, alright? Be a good girl for aunt Robin.” you go quiet, adding a second later, “And don’t bother Steve so much when he’s working, please?”

“But mama..”

“Stevie Robin..” you using her first and middle name has the desired effect, but she’s pouting and not happy about it. “Otay! I try not to bother him! But if he wants t’ play, I not stop him.”

You laugh softly and press a kiss to her hairline. As Robin opens the door and scoops up Stevie, she’s laughing. “Ready for a big adventure, sparkles?”

“Uh-huh!” she laughs and smiles, hugging against Robin. One of her braids is already trying to come undone. You smile at Barb. She smiles back as she reaches for the old backpack you use to keep everything Stevie needs inside when you have to leave her with sitters and you fight down the usual guilt that comes rushing up when you’re thinking about just how well used that backpack is by now and how it means you hardly get to spend any time with your daughter like you always dreamed you would when you were little.

The time your own mother refused to spend with you.. Unless, of course, she took you along with her to try and ply single men by playing the single mom who needs sooooo much help card.

“She’ll be fine, ___.” Robin’s gentle teasing and the reassuring grin she gives you has you nodding. Smiling at her even though leaving Stevie with them while you go off for an interview is the last thing you want to be doing.

You’d rather be spending all day with your little girl. Making a blanket fort in the living room of your house. Making crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as you both lie around, you reading her book of Grimms fairytales to her. Cuddling. Until the man you love comes in from work, where you’d have a nice home cooked meal, not something frozen or canned or even burned beyond recognition.. The life you didn’t have and always longed for as a kid.

,, you really need to accept the fact that this is your reality. Unless you want to turn into her, parading an endless string of faceless and nameless ‘uncles’ in and out of your life, always leaving you hurt and confused when they were gone and she was mean and bitter all over again.” the thought comes and you shove it out.

You watch as the three of them disappear into the video store, door banging shut behind them. And then you put your car into drive and pull out, merging with traffic. Journey is playing on the radio so you hum along and you hope it’ll distract you from a full to bursting mind. You’re just focused on doing your absolute best at this interview. Because you have to get money coming in somehow.

CONTINUED

Steve’s flipping through the channels on the old tv set that sits down on the counter out of sight. His legs are reclined and he’s just.. Fighting the urge to pass out from exhaustion.

To say sleeping through a full night since March has been a struggle would be a gross understatement. It’s been literal hell on Earth for him because every time he starts to doze, he can feel the earth rumbling beneath him. The sensation of free falling and then a hard thud as he connects with solid. And then he can hear Vecna’s evil laugh all over again. The way Vecna forced him to watch his worst fears and deepest secrets play out in front of him just to torture him. He had to watch everyone move on and leave him behind. He had to watch as his parents just went on with life as normal after his ‘death’, totally unaffected. He had to hear every single dark thing he’s ever thought or felt but never given a voice to, on repeat.

It’s not until his alarm’s going off every morning that the torment stops as Comfortably Numb starts to play and brings him rushing out, into another long day.

It was the same this morning and yet somehow, it wasn’t. Because Robin let it slip that Stevie was going to spend the day with them while you were interviewing at one of the offices in town for a secretary position. And somehow, knowing the little girl was going to be around to distract him all day just made things a little better.

She’s eating gummy bears that Robin and Barb stopped at the gas station in town to buy her as she makes her way over to him and motions for him to pick her up. “Tell me more about baske..About the game.” Stevie asks, holding out her bag of gummy bears to Steve as she smiles. “I wanna play too.”

Steve chuckles.

“Hang on, little bit.” he reaches for the remote, “Maybe there’s a warm up game on or a replay.” he flips through stations until he finds the channel he’s looking for. “That’s basketball.” he nods to a replay of an old Bulls game. “I used to play in high school.”

Stevie’s eyes fix on the television and she holds the bag out to him again. Steve takes a handful of gummy bears and pops them into his mouth as he arranges Stevie on his lap a little better.

As this is happening, Barb nudges Robin. “I never thought I’d see this happen.”

Robin laughs softly and nods. “Me either. From what __ has told me, Stevie doesn’t meet strangers though.” she shrugs, “Does he seem off to you too lately? And it’s gotten a little more obvious since Nance and Jonathan left town.”

“It has.” Barb admits, leaning against Robin slightly. Not enough to be obvious or invateRobin’s personal space but enough that she can feel the slight weight of the other girl and just..be close.

She wishes she could be so much closer. But she doesn’t know how to even begin telling her.

Robin feels her cheeks burn at the slightest hint of contact and she bites back the smallest whimper threatening to break free. She forces herself to pull together and calls out to get Steve’s attention. “Dingus, don’t get her into sports!”

“Looks fun!” Stevie is grinning and she’s turned herself to face Steve. “Open your mouth.” Steve opens his mouth as the little girl’s asked and Stevie tries to toss a bear in but she misses. The blue gummy bear settles on the front of his new polo shirt and he picks it off, eating it.

The bell over the door jingles and Robin glances over to see who it is.

“Harrington! Yo! Dude!” Billy’s calling out Steve’s name as he wanders the aisles to search for his former enemy turned friend. He finally gives up the search and stops in front of Robin and Barb. “Either of you seen Steve or do I need t’ go over and drag his broody ass outta bed again?”

“Right here, Hargrove, jesus.” Steve speaks up. Billy nearly chokes on the gum he’s chewing as he sees Steve sitting behind the counter with the cute little 3 year old daughter of the hot mom living across from him and his stepsister and her mom in Forest Hills. “You stealin kids now, Harrington?”

“I came t’ him.” Stevie sasses, leaning in against Steve just a little. Steve laughs and shrugs. Robin speaks up. “Yeah, he stole her from me! It took two hours to convince her mom I’d be able to watch her today when she went in for the interview. He’s had her since Barb and I got here.”

“You get her all the time, Robbie.”

“And? She’s my sparkles.” Robin argues back with Steve playfully. Billy chuckles. When he spots the game on tv he laughs to himself. “Girls don’t like that sh–”

“Mama said that’s adult word.” Stevie warns, giving Billy a very stern little look. Billy snickers. “It is, huh?”

“Mhm.”

Steve looks up at Billy. “She wanted to watch it, actually.”

“I did!”

“Anyway, what’d you want?”

“You’re comin with me tonight, dude. Munson’s band’s having a gig at the new bar. Told him we’d go.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Fuck no. No you don’t, Harrington. I’ve got tomorrow off, I’m not gonna waste th’ night sober.”

Steve grumbles but shrugs. “Not like anything else is going on. Okay, fine.”

“I guess you can drive the Camaro because I’m not gonna be seen in the grandma mobile.” Billy smirks, he’s purposely being a shit now, hoping that maybe if he just keeps treating Steve like the way he treated ‘old Steve’ it’ll eventually piss Harrington enough to bring out just a little of the fight and spunk that’s been gone completely since March.

He’s really worried about Steve. He figured him out fairly easy right after he hit Hawkins their senior year. So he knows that walking out of the station with Eddie to his waiting car after everything played out in March.. Seeing the girl he wanted to be with more than anything reunite with a guy she claimed she ‘wasn’t sure about anymore’ when they looked like they’d reconnect. Billy knows this killed Steve.

And then there’s the whole Vecna thing, something Steve absolutely refuses to talk about with anyone. Even Robin, his best friend.

Billy just doesn’t want to see Steve go down the path he’s been down already.

“You loud.” Stevie mutters, giving Billy a dirty look as she leans against Steve’s chest and nods to the little television set. “We watch baske..” she gives up, “the ball game.” and Steve chuckles.

“Bas-ket-ball. C’mon, try it.”

“It’s big word! I 3.”

“And you’re really smart for 3, Stevie. C’mon, try it.” Steve coaxes.

With a little grumbling, he gets her to attempt sounding out the whole word. When she finally says it, she’s laughing and smiling, clapping chubby little hands together. “I said it! Aunt Wobin! I said it!”

Steve laughs. “You did.”

Billy snickers. “Try this one, shortstuff.. C-a-m-a-r-o.”

Stevie gives him a blank look and places a hand on her hip. “What that?”

Billy gestures to his haphazardly parked car outside the store and grins proudly. “The best car ever.”

“Uh uh! My mama’s car is best.”

Robin and Barb laugh. “Oooh.. a three year old just burned you, Hargrove.” Barb taunts and Robin laughs, " How'd that feel, Billy?"

“Shut it, both of y." Billy grumbles. "I'll be over at 9, Harrington. You're going if I have t' drag you."

"I said I'd go. Jesus." Steve gives Billy a dirty look. The guy has gotten it in his head lately that he's gonna make it his daily goal to find ways to annoy Steve.

Billy leaves and Stevie scowls at the door before looking up at Steve. "He's loud. It scare me."

Steve smoothes a hand over her hair. "He does, huh?" he looks down at Stevie and smiles, "I'll tell him to calm down, 'kay?"

"Fank you. I gonna go to aunt Wobin now. But I come right back." Stevie slips off his lap and makes her way over, instantly picked up by Robin. As she sees the movie Gremlins, she reaches for it and Robin laughs. "Sparkles, they don't stay fluffy the whole movie."

"Why not?"

"Because someone fed them after midnight." Barb answers, laughing. "Did you get tired of watching the basketball game, bub?"

"No. Just wanted to come t' you for a while."

CONTINUED

The afternoon is dragging by for him. Hardly anyone's come in since 9 that morning and the pattern seems destined to continue. Then there's a steady drizzle from a surprise afternoon storm as the rain drops pitter patter against the stores tin sheet roofing. Robin and Barb went to get the four of them some lunch and Steve flips the sign on the door from open to closed.

Stevie is asleep in his chair at the circular desk, huddled into a jacket he kept in back in case the store got too cold. The bag of gummy bears is dangling from her fingertips and about to settle on the floor when he decides maybe she'd be more comfortable on the couch in the office besides the break room.

But he's so damn tired, the 2 to 3 hours he's been getting a night since late March, those are catching up to him. He tells himself he'll just sit there and read a magazine while she naps but it turns into him laying down too, on the opposite side of the couch. And at some point, Stevie wakes up, comes over to where he's laying and crawls onto the couch with him, laying on his chest with her little arms around his neck.

This is how they're still sleeping when Barb and Robin come back a few minutes later. Barbs the one to find them and with a finger to her lips, she gestures for Robin to come to the door of the office. Robin peers in over Barb's shoulder, smiling to herself.

"Hang on. I actually think I have my camera with me out in the car." Barb hurries out to go get the camera and Robin stands in thr doorway watching the two of them sleeping on the old leather sofa. "___ is totally wrong in thinking Stevie is going to annoy Steve and I think this is exactly what he needs right now."

After Barb takes the picture, she and Robin decide to put the fast food they picked up for Steve and Stevie into the microwave and just let them sleep.

You make your way in, a brow raised at the silence. You're still processing the fact that somehow, you impressed the office interviewing you so much that you got the job. Robin grabs your wrist and practically pulls you to the office in back so you can see the way Steve and Stevie are sleeping on the couch.

"I hope she didn't bother him all day."

"She didn't. They crashed while we went to pick up food. Steve hasn't been sleeping at all and I think Stevie playing with Will when he came in with the other kids earlier tired her right out." Robin smiles, "by the way, Steve's kids have adopted her.. well, Max, she's still warming up to her but..pretty sure if you want a sitter all you have to do is say so."

"Steve's kids?" you question, brow raised. This leads to Barb and Robin sitting you down in the little break room and as they tell you everything, from the start to what’s only just come to a close -hopefully for good, as of March, you're gaping. “You..He.. Oh my god, why did nobody stop it? Like.. they had to know, right?” you’re looking at your cousin in concern and if you thought Robin Buckley was a badass before, you really believe it now. Because all she does is shrug it off as if it were nothing.

"The running joke is that Steve's kind of adopted them all..because we've been through so much." Robin goes quiet. Weighing how much she can tell you without you freaking out on her. Even thinking about the insanity she’s been through the past few years is still a lot for Robin to get her own head around, let alone try explaining it to someone else.

"Wait..back up." You're trying to process it all, from secret government science labs to these kids -and their teenage counterparts, including Steve and Robin, having to fight as if they were in a war just to save the town. Robin can see you freaking out so she explains quickly, "Billy,Dustin Eddie and Steve saw the portal close because Eddie almost didn't make it up. That nightmare is over now, thank God."

,, well, you think to yourself, now I'm really fucked when it comes to finding a reason, any reason at all to keep from getting feelings for the guy." and of course, this is quickly overruled by one thought.

He's in the prime of his life. He probably wants to enjoy that. He probably doesn't want you and all your baggage plus your daughter. And thankfully, this is just enough, for now, to keep you from letting yourself get in too deep.

Steve wanders in with Stevie on his hip and his hair sticking up everywhere. Stevie has never liked waking up before she's ready so she's got her sour face on. Steve hasn't said a word to anybody, he possibly hasn't noticed the three of you sitting at the table in the break room or the way you're staring hard right now yet.

He heats up Stevies food and then his own and when he turns around, he finds himself being watched intently by the three of you.

You smile at your daughter. Everything Robin's just gone into detail to tell you comes rushing back and in light of it, you decide that maybe he needs this. Maybe it's okay to let her seek him out until he says otherwise.

"Did you have a nap, cupcake?"

Stevie is still yawning. Steve sits her chicken nuggets down on the table and Stevie climbs into your lap to eat them. "We did, mama! And we watched movies and this boy came and he gived me crayons!" Stevie digs in the old and faded backpack until she finds the crayons that Will gave her earlier.

You laugh softly.

"How'd the thing..the interview go?" Steve asks, locking eyes with you as he bites into his own double cheeseburger.

"How did that go?" Robin asks.

" I got the job. And they're willing to let me bring Stevie if I need to." You smile.

Steve is staring. And as you smile, he feels himself smile too because there is just something beautiful, something contagious about your smile that he can't help but do it too.

"That's great!"Robin hugs you and you both laugh.

"I start tomorrow. I'm working in the mornings, so open to 2?"

You're excited. Maybe everything will finally start to go better for you and your little girl.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x single/former teen!mom!reader #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x buckley!cousin fem. reader #<- my writing ● steve harrington #<- warnings | angst - single/former teen mom - post s4 with s4 / show changes - see warnings above.#<- warning | female reader - robin's cousin - female parts - 3 year old daughter - female clothing; etc - personality + a backstory and pas

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possessedramblings · 1 month

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No upside down au but things aren't magically okay

TW! Parental abuse, neglect & abandonment, Racism (Billy Hargrove is a piece of shit) Alcoholism, bullying and sexual harassment

Things aren't just happy and great because the Upside Down doesn't exist, and I want to write about it, so this is my take and my AU.

Will, Jonathan and Joyce are still in poverty, on the brink of nothingness, and it doesn't help that Lonnie is a piece of shit, who still has occasional custody of the boys. Every other weekend, Joyce is alone in her little house, while the boys are with their father, because the three of them are too afraid to speak up.

Mike and Nancy don't get along, plain and simple. It's not because they're siblings and because "siblings fight" but because they're in a broken home. Karen is out some nights seeing her "lover" and Ted is just the worst. He yells at the kids, shames Nancy, belittles her to the point that she leaves Mike alone. He hates her because she can leave, which is why he begs for a bike, or to spend the night somewhere, anywhere but home.

Dustin is the kid of a single mother, who is overbearing on him. She's an anxious woman who fears Dustin's gonna get hurt. He gets bullied at school, and not just insulting words. He gets shoved, his d&d dice, books, hats, and other things get stolen, and sometimes he comes home with bruises from the older kids.

Lucas has it fine at home, but once he leaves it's no longer anything happy. He's afraid to spend time with his friends because of Billy and all of the other assholes. He constantly gets harassed because of his skin, the way he talks, the way he looks, and it gets even worse when he starts talking to Max. His parents worry that one day, he won't come home.

Max couldn't hate life more. She's always angry, and it's all her moms fault. Her mom decided that Neil Hargrove was a good man, but it led to a life of absolute fucking pain. Billy was angry with her, for what - she didn't know. Neil was a drunk, he'd drink and drink for hours, using bottles as weapons against everyone else in the house. She saw the same hatred in Mike Wheeler, which caused her to lash out at him, but she knew it wasn't his fault, it was their parents.

Jane's mom couldn't properly care for her, something about a neurological disease that would get worse as the years passed. So she was given up to a foster home. Poor Jane was young, ad could hardly speak, let alone know her own name, so the man, Brenner, didn't care to know names. Jane, now Eleven, didn't know how she got there, or why, but she grew up believing her mother hated her, until she ran away after the oldest kid there snapped.

Steve never knew what his parents were like. They were always away. They'd bring back snow globes from every state airport in the country, but that's all he knew about them. He started to act out so he could possibly get their attention. He stopped once he finally saw something he hadn't noticed before. Jonathan wasn't flinching when he hit. He was just as bad as any old abuser. He tried to turn himself around, he really did. He had to change, especially after seeing Dustin, Lucas and Mike being thrown around by Billy.

Robin knew she never had it easy. She grew up in the trailer parks after her mom and dad lost their jobs ad had to find somewhere else. Her parents jumped between jobs for a long time, and once Robin was old enough, they gave her an old hand me down bike and set her on her way. She knew life was even harder after she discovered her undeniable crush on Tammy Thompson. She would be a town pariah if anyone found out.

Nancy on the other hand, was a town pariah. Her home was the least of her problems. She was humiliated by a man, by several men. Steve Harrington and Tommy Hagan calling her a slut, her own father accusing her of being a whore, and her employers objectifying her at every chance they could get. Nancy felt just like an object for the pleasure of men, so she started learning to defend herself, wanting to be her own woman, but too afraid to deep down.

Jonathan always pushed back how he felt for his mom and brother. Joyce was a struggling woman, and Will was so young, he didn't want his brother to feel like the world was so cold and dark, so he took more hits for the both of them. He took hits from Steve and Tommy, he wanted to keep everyone else safe so he took hits.

Things aren't happy in Hawkins, but we can certainly pretend.

#im sorry #heavy angst #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #eleven hopper #jane hopper #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers

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alizjay · 5 months

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TW: mention of CSA & SH

People say that I'm resilient and they say that I am strong.

No one else with my trauma would have a marriage last this long.

How am I not an alcoholic? How are my kids doing well?

Well, I'll tell you people, it has nothing to do with strength, but a conditioned fear of hell.

How did I do so well in school and be successful in my career? How can I keep my bills paid on time? It's because of that voice in my ear...

That bullies me into submission when I make a small mistake.

It's nothing but sheer terror in people finding out I'm a fake.

I never got to fall apart like most traumatized kids do

Until I began to remember at age 35 what my daddy made me do!

I never felt safe as a child

or a brand new wife and mom whose insides were going wild.

Because my body & my brain stem knew what my memory did not.

That very early in my life, I was damaged and emotionally thrown out to rot...

By the same person who said I could not make mistakes,

By the man who helped me with math and taught me to balance on roller skates.

How can the man who worked 2, and sometimes 3, jobs to keep food on our table

Be a monster in the bathroom with his little girl before I was even able...

To fight back, to argue back, to understand what was happening?

I guess that's why I have this habit of spacing out and disassociating

From the people i love when they're stressing me out,

Why even as an adult I revert back to a kid and pout

When I don't get my way

When I'm left out for the day.

That bastard BROKE MY BRAIN and then convinced me that I was okay.

"Little girl, you're lucky that your mom & dad still kiss. I work hard just to provide for you. You're just mad that we're not rich.

Be grateful for all God's given us, girl. Your parents could be addicts.

We could be homeless. We give you everything you need 'cause we're such good parents.

So turn that frown upside down or I'll clean your mouth with soap

For talking sass back to your mom. Why complain when Jesus is our hope?"

No dad, not anymore, not ever, all your words do is make me feel panic.

You make me want to cut myself or pretend to be perfectly happy and manic.

But as much as you gave me a listening ear when I'd cry about bullies at school,

You didn't give a rat's ass about my feelings at all, you just said, "sweetheart, life isn't about being cool."

I FUCKING HATE YOU, DAD!!!!!!!!!

#ptsd #childhood ptsd #trauma #abuse survivor #ptsd poetry #emotional abuse #poetry #child abuse #mental health #writers and poets

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mangacapsaicin · 2 years

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mariko kikuchi’s a life turned upside down: my dad's an alcoholic || 菊池真理子の『酔うと化け物になる父がつらい』

#mariko kikuchi #菊池真理子 #you to bakemono ni naru chichi ga tsurai #a life turned upside down: my dad's an alcoholic #酔うと化け物になる父がつらい #b&w #mangacap

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jwnchstr · 1 year

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waiting for superman | m.s47

title: waiting for superman part 3

characters: you/reader/catherine, mick schumacher

summary: when your father (a former ferrari mechanic) was diagnosed with alzheimer's, your world turns upside down. you had to give up your city life, get back to your village to take care of your father. but what hurts the most is being so close to him and seeing him not remember you (catherine) as well as every precious moment in his life with you. you start to questions about everything until mick schumacher (your childhood best friend) comes back into your life and teaches you life lessons that you're sure will remember forever.

other f1 fics | masterlist | my wattpad

waiting for superman part 1 | 2 | 4 | 5

iii.

sebastian vettel would do anything just to bring the memories back into karl's mind. from the moment he met karl through michael, to when they start to hang out, to when they have a casual midnight stroll even though he was too young follow the adults. he doesn't care if it takes weeks or months or years. he won't give up. he is willing to redo everything he did with karl if that's what it takes to give karl his memories back. and if he's given a chance for a wish to be granted, he would wish to heal karl's disease.

he might look unaffected with karl's disease because he thought he needs to be strong for you, but truth to be told, he is crying and heartbroken inside. he hates watching the zero reaction coming from karl. that distant look when he doesn't know what sebastian is talking about. that stutter when sebastian asks if he remembers (and he has to ask if karl remembered).

once both of them reached the karting club where you and mick used to be a part of, sebastian had stories in his mind. he had mentally prepared and organised those precious stories he will tell. will it be about how michael scolded a kid because he pushed mick to the wall and got disqualified? will it be about how you often beat mick and he comes home sulking (especially when gina did nothing to comfort him because she supported you more)? will it about between the dads---about how your father being the typical dad with michael, standing too close beside the circuit, watching the kids racing with a bottle of beer in their hands. people would think that michael and karl would obey the rules as audiences since both of them were a part of the f1 team, but sometimes, they're just someone's dads.

"i don't think they were allowed to have an alcohol at an event full with kids but you and michael never mind the rules. it's like both of you were a couple of high school seniors that even the principals cannot touch." sebastian chuckles. "and sometimes, michael would be the honour to hand the trophies to the winners. he would pass his beer to you before taking it back soon after the ceremony ends."

your father doesn't understand why sebastian is laughing. he could not imagine what sebastian is telling him about. the story... the story about him and this michael guy who was his best friend seems close to his heart but too far to reach at the same time. he doesn't remember meeting this michael guy. he doesn't remember having a friend named michael. he doesn't remember working with michael.

"oh and did i tell you that your daughter was in a karting club?"

i have a daughter? karl thought.

karl slowly shakes his head. he looks disappointed at himself for not knowing this new character in sebastian's story. but he caught sebastian saying the word 'daughter' as if he was reminding him that he's married and has a kid. but when did he marry andrea? and where is andrea now? if they have a daughter together, andrea must know and she would want to hear this story too, right? karl doesn't want to believe sebastian but the daughter's name sounds familiar to his ears. it's the kind of name he would want to name his daughter one day.

"yeah. she was a member of a karting club. but it was mick who introduced it to her."

"how was she?"

"she was amazing! she picked up fast. it only took a few months for her race against mick even though they're in the same team." the image of little you and mick racing side by side in the kart circuit flashes behind sebastian's mind as if it only happened yesterday. "she beat mick few times. and when she does, mick would sulk and ask your daughter to play other games with him. games that he'd good at though we all know that catherine is just as good as at other games."

"she sounds like a tough girl." karl smiles at the thought of his future daughter.

"back then, you and michael used play bets on catherine and mick." sebastian laughs again. when he first found that out, sebastian yelled at the dads. he remembers preaching in front of michael and karl, telling them how it's not nice to play bets on their children. "but you guys claimed that you will keep the bet money in the kid's college fund. it sounded like a good idea. like another way to save up but i personally would never do that to my kids."

if it weren't because of your father, sebastian didn't know that he still remembers these at all.

"so what happened then? did she stop?"

it takes a few seconds for sebastian to realise that your father is talking about you.

"she said that racing isn't for her. she pursued engineering instead." sebastian smiles, proud of you as if you're his own child. "but she was good at what she was doing. you must be proud of her."

"only if i remember," karl says under his breath, didn't miss the grammar sebastian used.

was. karl wonders what happens to his so-called daughter. why was it a 'was' instead of 'is'? did something happen that made her change career? did she left her family? did she die?

the sadness in karl's voice makes sebastian wants to tear up. he thinks karl doesn't deserve this illness. if this disease is due to him not using his brain that much, sebastian would accuse the doctor being a liar. because as far as he knows, karl was one of the people who used his brain a lot when he was healthy. his brain worked like a computer, like it's programmed to store things with personalised tricks and cheat codes. he always knew how to fix a car. he was always precise with his work, never left things almost done. he rarely made mistakes in the garage. so why, god, why and what did he do to get this ugly punishment?

and then there is you that crosses sebastian's mind and he cannot help feeling sorry for you too. even though he hadn't known you since you were born like mick but it definitely feels as if. he knows how close you are with your father. after all, there weren't anyone in your life except you two (though occassionally with your nanny). no mother. no other siblings. no aunts and uncles. one world and there's you and your father making memories together as you grow up.

but now, not only you lost your hero but also your dreams. you had to give up your dreams right when you were the happiest in the world for living in your dreams because being an engineer was what you wanted ever since you were a little girl. you had to give up that thousands of grands job. you had to give up the tall windows, high ceiling, gray-painted walls apartment. you had to give up the lifestyle that you began to love while living in the heart of switzerland. you have to give up everything.

"karl." sebastian smiles. one that doesn't reach his eyes. "i know you won't remember me or catherine or michael. and you don't remember anything we did together, but i want you to know that you and catherine are always in my prayers."

karl's heart warms. he doesn't know what he did to be given such a kind-hearted man in front of him. he doesn't even remember catherine or me or michael.

he feels like saying something, but he doesn't know if that's the right option to do now because he might ruin the moment. instead, he keeps quiet, stares at the younger man.

"and it's okay if you don't remember."

karl's heart feels like to explode. again. what did he do to be granted with such human being?

"it's tough on us," sebastian continues. "tougher on catherine, i imagine, but she loves you still."

if karl could do anything right now, he would want to meet this catherine girl and tell her that everything will be fine. that he is fine and that he loves her too.

marc and franco. they were the employees who worked with karl back when he works at the workshop after retiring ferrari's mechanic. and today, when sebastian brings karl to the same workshop, marc and franco are still there and looking as if they never aged even one year. if it weren't because of the white hairs, people would think they're still in their 30s.

"sebastian?" franco's eyebrows knitted on his forehead.

sebastian's smile gets wider than when he first hopped out of his car after pulling his car to a stop in front of the workshop. he enters the workshop deeper, approaching franco for a hug that they hadn't shared for a few years.

"hey, franco."

"oh my god! you're getting... bald!"

it's not sebastian's first time to have someone judging his appearance though. mick had made a remark on his bald spot too. his wife hannah never let him forget about how he looks way older than his age and looking different every time he gets home in between races. he knows he could grow hairs once he's taking hiatus on f1 after the end of the season.

"marc! marc! come here! see who's here!" franco had called his business partner. and as if there was an emergency, marc emerges from the deep of the workshop looking worried.

"what? what is it? did something---" he stops himself as soon as he sees a familiar figure standing close in front franco. "sebastian? oh come on here, you little piece---!"

and they share a hug but unlike with franco (where the hug was tight, warm, friendly but short), marc makes sure that sebastian could feel every limb on his body including what's down there. uncomfortable, sebastian pushes marc to break the hug while trying to hide a cringe on his face.

"oh i almost forgot," sebastian says before turning around in search of karl. "karl, do you remember who they are?"

just like what sebastian expected, karl shakes his head. maybe he should shop asking karl if he remembers.

"this is marc and franco." sebastian smiles at the older man. "they were your bosses when you were working here after retiring ferrari's car mechanic. they were two of your good friends too."

marc and franco glance at each other. they just met a few days ago. marc and franco and karl at karl's house. they were talking and laughing, though as strangers, but it seemed that karl had a really good time with them. it's crazy how karl doesn't recognise them though it's only after a couple of days passed.

it was as if it's karl's first time seeing marc and franco because there was no trace of recognition in karl's eyes when they look at each other. marc and franco wanted to go for a hug but when karl nods his head, gave them a polite smile, they know they totally lost their good friend.

"don't take it too personally with karl," sebastian tells the two ruggged-looking man in front of him.

"never, sebastian. but it's sad to see him that way. it's only two days ago since we last saw him," franco says.

"how's his little girl?" marc asks as he and franco lead their two guests into their waiting room.

sebastian smiles tightly. "probably still the same since you last saw her."

"she told us that mick is home. are you staying here with your family?"

"i wish," sebastian answers.

and the three of them begin talking like there's no tomorrow. and with a company of the good, chilly weather and hot coffee, the environment seems perfect for the three dads to play catch up after so long not seeing each other.

as sebastian, marc and franco continue talking in the other end of the garage, feeling not needed there, karl takes his time looking over the tools on the silver trolley. they recognise one or two of them. okay, maybe only one. a screwdriver. what else they have here? a T-thing with two different heads? hammer. a retractable object with marks and numbers on the metal? measuring tape. other complicated tools your father doesn't recognise. air compressor, dismantled gear, tyres spanner, sport rims. there is a car on a blue platform without tyres and karl doesn't understand why.

there are so many things in the garage. things that make karl thinks maybe he knew too well these before but no matter how hard he cracks his brain, he doesn't know and understand almost 90% what's going on in the automotive workshop. everything looks so foreign to him now. he looks like a guy entering a make-up store. but one thing he knows that the longer he is here, the harder the pound in his head.

sensing the uneasiness on karl's face, sebastian politely tells marc and franco that they have to leave. marc and franco promise that they'd see sebastian again next time he visits. and soon when they arrive back at the schumacher's, sebastian leads karl into the house. karl says he needs to use the loo.

feeling a little light from the good day he'd spent with marc and franco, sebastian forgets that karl needs every help a healthy person has to offer to a sick person. sebastian barely remembers that karl has dementia, so without thinking anything, he merely nods his head and tells karl that he's going to be in the kitchen when he's done using the loo.

but karl doesn't know what he isn't capable to do so he instinctively, he nods his head when the blonde man told him that he'll be in the kitchen. why is he in the kitchen? karl wonders to himself. he's going to the loo and the blondie will be in the kitchen? okay, then karl thinks it sounds like what other people do so when he started to his journey towards the loo because he really needs to use the toilet. only after a few minutes looking around, he couldn't find a way to the loo.

where is the fucking toilet? karl asks himself as he ventures the whole first floor of the house. he walks pass the kitchen door---he sees a blondie making a something at the counter against the wall. he walks pass the living room but when he sees no one there, he continues walking ahead. he walks pass a hallway---he sees several pictures in big frames hanging on the wall. he stops in front of a door and tries to open it---it wouldn't budge. he returns to the living room, sees nobody else, sees the front door but ignores it, walks pass the kitchen. if there were people who didn't know karl's disease, they would think this man is utterly stupid for not seeing a small door a few steps after the kitchen because that's where the toilet is.

and he does this for several times. until he forgets what he was initially looking for. feeling uncomfortable pacing back and forth between the walls without remembering why he was here, karl walks to the front door. he opens the front door, leaves it open, and steps outside. without looking back, he walks straight ahead, turns right and continues straight. and that's the last time the house sees karl until you get back.

sebastian was emotionally tired when he finds the abstract wallpaper on the schumacher's kitchen wall interesting. corinna has had it for years. he doesn't remember exactly when but it's been there forever. sebastian has been meaning to ask corinna what's so special about the wallpaper but now, as he looks at the wallpaper while his emotion feels like a tornado, he begins to understand why corinna hadn't removed it or changed it.

the canvas is starting to get yellowish despite being an expensive art piece, but the colours (though bright) they give sebastian's mind a peace that he didn't know he needed today. it's true that sebastian is genuinely happy with himself today. it feels like an accomplishment to bring karl out for a drive but there's something in the drive and the memories makes sebastian exhausted.

the smell of hot coffee gives another peace of his mind as the hot mug radiates a comforting warmth towards sebastian fingers and hands. after taking a single sip, sebastian sighs. the taste of the coffee brings him back to earth. his eyes caught a small digital clock corinna put on the kitchen island. something snaps in his mind.

"karl." his breath hitches. "oh my god, karl."

sebastian reluctantly puts his coffee mug down (because the coffee is still hot and is still only a quarter empty. he quickly checks the toilet for karl and how worried and scared and angry he is when he didn't find the man he was looking for there. his heart makes a jump in his chest when he couldn't find karl at the living room, other rooms on the first floor, at the kitchen even though seabastian was at the kitchen the whole time. it was on his second round when sebastian realises that the front door is ajar.

"oh no."

sebastian could hear his heart beating loudy in his ears as he fishes his phone in his pocket. but luck (if you could call this luck) that just before he taps on your name in his contact list, he hears your car entering the driveway. he deeply, deeply sighs. the tremble of his hands lessen by two percent. when he hears two car doors shut, he realises that despite being an f1 driver who had been taught to work under pressure, but in real life when he has to deal with something else, he is the opposite of the person who was taught to work under pressure. good thing you came back on time.

"always keep him in your peripheral," sebastian hears the echo of your voice, reminding him before he took your father for a drive. "always show him. even though he doesn't remember, always talk to him."

yes. he should've remembered those 30 minutes ago when your father told him that he wanted to use the loo!

sebastian heads for the front door. he walks straight out of the house (the front door is open wide, after all). he sees the scowl on your face. that crease on your forehead is so deep. you're running away from someone while shouting something back at him. when sebastian sees mick appears from behind your car, he realises that you and mick are having an argument.

shit.

sebastian stands still at the porch, tries to understand what were the arguments about. your voices sounded muffled in his ears but even so he could catch some phrases like "her" and "love you" and "justine" and "we". the loud thump of his heart in his ears overshadowed the rest of the sound in the world around him, but as tries to get himself back onto the earth, he realises that you and mick are actually confessing.

for having to spend a lot of time with mick on and off the paddock, sebastian knows something about mick that you don't know. for instance, sebastian recognises the love in mick's eyes whenever he's talking about you even though you haven't seen each other for years. he admires your hardwork while chasing after your dreams. he mentions your names here and there when he's talking to other people outside of interviews. he is proud of you so much that he didn't realise he had created speculations.

but sebastian wonders and he had once asked mick why he didn't try to see you back at home when you're only less than an hour away. after all, you were still in contact with gina.

"i don't know. i feel like she's avoiding me."

maybe mick was right. maybe you were avoiding mick because you were trying to get over mick. you had a career. you had your own apartment. you had your own car. you had your freedom. you thought it's time to get over mick and try to date other men. though at the end, you miserably failed. your dad got sick. you returned home and still in love with mick.

even though it sounds ridiculous to be having an argument about love at the moment, but maybe this is the time for mick to finally confess his feelings towards you too even though your father had went missing. because sebastian has seen it for a long time in mick's eyes. maybe even from the start of him knowing mick. maybe mick hasn't realised it. maybe mick needs his time to understand what he's feeling. when sebastian finally hears those powerful words, he is happy for mick. but your father karl erberhardt is still missing!

justine and gina aren't home yet and you might feel relieved or glad because you don't have to see her pretty face on the territory but that doesn't matter now, does it, because you're having an argument with mick to notice justine's car isn't anywhere to be seen. hearing the fuss, corinna exits michael's room and meets sebastian at the porch. her forehead creased with confusion.

"what's happening?" corinna asks.

"i lost karl."

corinna is too shocked to to say anything but she does worry about her husband's bestfriend.

"and now his daughter and mick are arguing about their love and their feelings."

"are you being serious right now? how could you be standing here? break them!" corinna pushes.

it's not that sebastian doesn't want to break the argument but he knows what's bubbling inside mick's mind and how he's been keeping things from you. so here, right now, even though corinna is glaring at him for stalling, he was only giving mick the space to express himself out. he waited for a few more minutes. when he thought the argument was over, he sees you pushing mick again. now he gives you another chance to talk to mick and as soon as he realises that the argument has died down, that both of you are calmed, sebastian lurches forward.

"catherine. it's about karl."

your father's name is like an alarm to your brain, like once you hear "karl" or "your father", your focus and attention, even though you were sleeping one second ago, you will be awake one second after. sebastian looks pale when he tells you what's happened. he worries about a lot of things but even so, he tells you everything.

"i'm sorry, catherine. i understand if you can't trust me again after today but i swear i didn't mean to lose him."

"no, seb. it's okay."

no, truthfully, it's not okay even though this is not the first time you or annie or anyone lost your father. not when you've warned them to always keep an eye on karl. because someone who has alzheimer's may look like he understands what you were telling them, but they're actually not so you always have to be careful with them. there's always something like this happen every time karl meets his friends or someone brings karl to see their other friends. they were so caught up in the moment that they tend to forget karl is forgetful.

with creased on your forehead, you fish for your phone inside your jeans pocket.

"catherine---"

you look up at the aston martin f1's driver. sebastian's heart skips a bit when your eyes meet him.

"i know i won't be able to sleep tonight if i don't say this so just listen to me, okay?"

sebastian prepared himself with the curses that you're going to throw at him, or meanful things you'd shout at sebastian to let the neighbours know how the fourth-time world champion is useless at taking care of an ill person. knowing you, you might even do more than these but it surprised him when nothing of what he expected came. instead, he sees calmness in your tired eyes. your lips looks like they're ready to give him a smile to make him calm down.

mick, standing close with you and sebastian, now realises that this is the first time he sees sebastian looking so messed up. but it amazes him more with how collected you look while dealing with the situation. mick thinks that, if this happened to him, he wouldn't be able to even talk to sebastian right now.

"i'm sorry."

"sebastian, it's okay. i'm not mad at you." you give sebastian an assuring smile and squeezes his shoulder comfortly. "now i'm going to make a few calls. i'm going to tell annie and the police. and then we're going to look for him."

both sebastian and mick watch you making some phone calls silently while waiting for you to finish. neither of the men speaks any word as if the they're the one who had that argument a few minutes ago. but to think again, maybe they're just as anxious as you are so no matter how hard they tried to move their tongues to talk, they just can't.

after both annie and the police are notified, you return to sebastian and mick.

"alright. we should split up," you say still calm. "maybe sebastian can go back to the workshop and see if my father's there. mick can cover the park. i'll try look for him at the church."

both you and your father rarely go to the church but there's a cemetery behind the church compound and there, your father's mother was burried. you never knew her but there were several times where you'd follow your father visiting her grave when you were little. no visit as you grew older but after getting alzheimer's, you found him at the grave on several occassions. people in the neighbourhood too. and they'd be the one who would bring your father home if not to the police station.

"no way we're splitting."

"no. it's too risky," sebastian agrees. "it's getting dark. we should look for him together."

sebastian was right. and it's better to be safe than sorry so you agree with sebastian's suggestion. all three of you hop into your car with you driving since you know your father's favourite spots better than the other two. sebastian at the pessenger's seat and mick at the back by himself.

you didn't know where to start. should you start with the farthest? sure, but marc or franco would probably call you or sebastian if they found your father at the workshop. should you start a little closer like the church? he might know how to go to the church from your home but not from mick's house. your father didn't even recognise the street, the trees and the mick's house itself. should you just get home then? because what if your father somehow knew his way home from mick's?

no, no, no. that would be impossible even though it could happen. his father doesn't even know the way home from the police station or from the park or from the church or the cemetery.

the car is silent as you drive slowly around the neighbourhood, keeping an eye on every man that you see even though he doesn't look like karl erberhardt from behind. mick at the back is trying his best to do the same thing as you with his blue eyes but once in a while, you would catch him looking at you through the rear-view mirror as if checking up on you. you're not sure why you roll his eyes at him though. maybe you're just tired. meanwhile beside you, keeping the windows down, sebastian's lips are moving. he's praying.

"come on, dad," you whisper under your breath, but you know that with the silence in the car, both of the men hear you. "where are you?"

you thought of turning around and driving back towards the karting club but it's too late now, does it? the sky is already dark. the temperature has dropped. there's no way you could see in the dark with only your mobile phone's torchlight. all hope of finding your father nearby fades. but just as when you're thinking of returning home and wait for him there, your phone rings. you quickly reaches for your phone in the cup holder and sees the familiar telephone number on the screen. it's the local police station.

"catherine?" the same woman who picked up your call just now calls you. "we found your father."

the heavy sigh that escape your lips caught mick and sebastian's attention. two sets of eyes are on you. two sets of ears are focused on you. they're waiting for the answer. you put your phone on loud speaker.

"where?"

"the station."

"the station?" you wonder. "you found my father at the police station?"

"he came here by himself."

pressing the acceleration paddle harder, you drive towards the police station above the speed limit but what do you care. you need to see your father before your body explodes. by the time you reach there, a policeman already opens the door for you and when you enter the police station, you see your father is sitting on one of the many chairs in front of the report counter. there are another two policemen in the room---one behind the counter and the other sitting beside your father.

"dad!"

when karl turns around upon hearing a woman calling someone 'dad', it was merely a reflex. one where you spontenously turn around when you hear someone else calling for other people especially when her voice is too loud in the police station. but apparently, the woman is approaching him. her eyes are glassy as she opens her arms for him. and again. it's by reflex when he returns the woman's hug.

"oh dad!" the woman says. "i thought i really lost you."

karl frowns above the woman's head. his eyes catch a few other people in the station. all men and all are looking at him and the woman he's hugging. all look sadly relieved but aside from the three policemen, who are the other two men standing near the door? is the younger man the woman's boyfriend and the older blond man his dad?

"uhm. girl? i'm so sorry to ruin the moment but i'm afraid i'm not your father."

in the embrace, he feels the woman stiffens. slowly, when the woman breaks the hug and looks up at him, he sees the same dark hair and dark eyes as his. he sees the same smile andrea has. something in him tugs. he is still not sure if he's married to andrea and they had a daughter this big but it looks like the woman already knows him. or even if he knows her, it's because she lives together with him in his ma's house. and if he's not mistaken, she is the woman he lives with along with another older woman who helps him take his bath.

"oh, dad! thank god you're okay!"

"i'm---i'm sorry to interrupt you, girl. but---but you're not my mother...?"

the girl gulps. "no, dad. i'm your daughter. christine."

"daughter?" karl frowns. "i have a daughter? i'm married?"

"you were. but mum left us when i was a few months old so it's only us."

"andrea would do that?"

the woman's face twitch in disgust. did andrea do something to her? or did she do something to andrea? he rufused to believe the latter because to him, andrea is his happy pill. the one who knows how to make him smile. the one who knows just what to do when he's upset. the one whom he loves all his life.

"are you from the future?"

if this woman is not andrea and not his mother, then she's either a stranger or someone from the future, right?

part 4

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick to mercedes #mercedes-amg #ferrari #michael schumacher #mockingbird #mick schumacher x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #mick schumcher fanfic

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dumdumsun · 1 year

Text

To Nightfall

A/N: A sad chapter, my loves. There's one paragraph that could be particularly triggering, so I have it marked with bold arrows for those who don't want to read it to skip.

Warnings: ⚠️suicide⚠️, blood and gore, character death, alcohol, mentions of alcohol, blood and death/dying

Word Count: 6817

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Chapter 15: Wedding at the End of the World

It was a cataclysmic disaster of ember-turned homes and buildings, the survival rate of zero percent resulting in the extinction of man-kind for a third time. Outside the Hotel Obsidian, that is.

While everything and everyone was being sucked into the radiated black hole outside, the twelve survivors within the hotel were unaffected by the demolition. It was currently the only building left completely intact in the entire world. The Umbrella Academy and what was left of the Sparrow Academy sat together within one of the lounge rooms, quietly awaiting an answer or possibly an end to them as well.

“So,” Allison started. “How is it that we’re still here, but the whole of the universe is going down the cosmic shitter?”

Viktor shrugged from the chair he sat in. “Maybe we’re the last of it flushed.”

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

He rolled his eyes before Luther spoke up from where he sat cuddled up beside Sloane. “Hey, has anyone seen Klaus?”

Sloane looked up at him in realization. “Or Dad?”

“They’ll be here.” Diego answered.

“Really? Did they… hit traffic?” Ben sarcastically shrugged. “Look, people, we’re alive because we’re special, right? We’re the only ones who can save the universe.”

Allison raised her hand. “Uh, question.”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t we just try that and fail miserably?”

“Yeah, because his plan was stupid.” Diego cut in. “I got a better one.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “‘Course you do.”

“We go with the large hard-on particle accelerator. You guys do some science, and…” He clicked his tongue and mimicked the swing of a baseball bat. “...we launch the Kugelblitz into outer space. Didn’t think I knew that, did ya? It’s in Switzerland.”

“It’s ‘hadron’, not ‘hard-on’, ya moron!”

Lila turned herself around from her upside down position on her chair to look at Ben. “Oi! At least he’s trying, you shitty little squid. What have you contributed?”

“Actually,” Diego pointed at him. “He did blow up half his family.”

“Oh, you wanna talk about family problems?” He moved up to Diego. “You know what should have blown up is your face on that neck!”

“I wish I had a cake to hit you with it in your face!”

They switched to the Korean and Spanish language to continue arguing before Five cut them off out of irritation. “Hey!” He shouted. “You guys done? The universe is disappearing outside. So, you can keep rearranging the deck chairs of the Titanic if it makes you feel better. But the fact remains that we are too late.”

Everyone in the room scoffed at his words. Never had they ever heard of Five giving up on the end of the world. He always had some sort of solution to a dead-end, to a life-threatening situation. The sound of him accepting their fate didn’t sit well with any of them.

“Five, come on.” Luther chuckled, hoping his brother was joking.

“It’s over, Luther. We failed.”

Viktor sat up. “Come on. It can’t be over over.”

“Yeah, come on, Five. We gotta figure this out, man.” Diego agreed.

“Okay.” He nodded. “How about we take a step back? Look at the big picture here. Most of us have spent the last twenty-eight days trying to stop the world from ending. What exactly have we accomplished?”

They all looked down, vocals unnecessary for the true answer, though Luther saw fit to try anyway. “Well,” He smiled down at Sloane. “We made some friends along the way.”

“Incorrect! You know what we’ve done? Nothing. We made things worse every single time. It was exactly what (Y/N) was trying to tell me and I didn’t listen to her.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, when I went to the Commission, I had a conversation with my hundred-year-old self. And my last words were, ‘Don’t save the world’.”

“‘Don’t save the world’?”

“‘Don’t save the world’.”

Diego waved his hand in dismissal. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it?” Luther narrowed his eyes. “Well, whatever we’re doing’s not working. All we ever do is save the world for a day, pat ourselves on the back, and then everything goes to shit again.”

“Yeah, maybe we’re the problem.” Viktor shrugged.

“Oh, yeah,” Allison scoffed. “Us.”

“So, wait.” Lila looked up at Five. “Your big plan is… no plan?”

Five pointed at her. “Exactly. Conscientious objection. Why the hell not? We’ve tried everything else.” His eyes roamed over everyone’s dreadful faces. “Look, maybe this is just what the universe needs. I say, embrace the apocalypse. See what’s on the other side.”

“What if it’s… nothing?” Sloane quietly asked.

“Then it’s been nice knowing you all. Whatever’s on your bucket list, I recommend you do that now.”

Five gulped, a terrible feeling in his gut. He didn’t truly want to believe that this would be one of the last moments with his family. He spent almost his entire life trying to save them and now it proved itself to be fruitless. Five finally solved his life-time equation he had been pondering. The likelihood of saving any and everyone was less to none. With a defeated sigh, he sat down. Luther and Sloane silently shared a smile before the former spoke up.

“Well, on that… super happy note, we’ve um…” He glanced at Sloane for a moment before they giddily laughed and stood. “Oh, what the hell. We’ve, uh, got a little announcement to make.”

“We’re engaged!” They cheered in unison, Sloane holding up a hand where a ring sat on her finger.

“Kill me, Jesus…”

“Idiots…”

“Now?”

Luther held a hand up to get them to hear him out. “Yeah. Look, we realize the timing is less than ideal. But obviously, it’s now or never. Am I right, Five?”

“Don’t drag me into this, please.”

His smile fell as Sloane spoke up. “What… Whatever time we have left, we wanna spend it with all of you. So, we’re super pumped if you would join us in the banquet hall at six p.m. for a celebration of our love, and the official union of what’s left of our two great families.”

Luther held his smiling fiance tight as he nodded. “Dress code is creative black tie.”

Meanwhile in a hotel room a floor above them all, Umbrella (Y/N), now dressed in a grey button up tucked into a pair of black cargo shorts, hurried inside with a glass of water in her hand. She walked up to Sparrow (Y/N), now dressed in a black crop top with buckle straps and black cargo pants, and held the glass out to her.

“Here. You need to drink this.”

“No, I-” The woman clutched her head in her hands and shut her eyes. “No, I can’t right now.”

“(Y/N), you’ve been hyperventilating in intervals for the past two hours. You’re dehydrated. Drink this water.”

At that, the Sparrow quickly turned to her and took the glass from her, mechanically gulping the entire thing down without a second to lose. Once she’d drained it, she blinked rapidly and twisted her bracelet on her wrist. Umbrella (Y/N) frowned and took the glass back as she watched her idly stand there, as if she wasn’t having a panic attack just a second ago.

“(Y/N)?”

“Y-Yes?”

“What is your obsession with that bracelet?”

Sparrow (Y/N) snapped her head up, brows raised and eyes wide. “Bracelet?” She quickly let go of it. “This old thing? I don’t have an obsession with it. W-What are you… No, stop it!!!” She screamed and backed away when the girl reached out for the accessory. Umbrella (Y/N) her hands up in defense.

“Okay… I’m sorry. I just don’t understand. Why do you care so much about it? It’s just a bracelet.”

“No, i-it’s my…” She cradled her wrist. “It’s my lifesource.”

The young girl’s shoulders slumped at that. “(Y/N), come on…”

“It’s true!”

“That thing is not your ‘lifesource’. You know what that is?” She inched closer to her. “That is yet another crazy thought implanted in your mind by your abusive siblings. You can’t keep letting them have this hold over you, (Y/N).”

The Sparrow sniffled. “You don’t understand… All of my siblings are dying a-and nothing makes sense right now. But this is the only thing that does. This- This bracelet, I’ve always had it. I’ve never taken it off. If I do, I die.”

“Well, what about it is keeping you alive?”

She shook her head frantically. “I don’t- I don’t know…”

“That’s the problem, (Y/N). They didn’t even bother to tell you why exactly you need to wear that thing all the time. Removing that bracelet is one step closer to healing yourself.” She softly smiled. “I promise.”

Hesitantly, Sparrow (Y/N) slipped her white beaded bracelet off of her wrist, her shaking hand setting it into her double’s palm. Umbrella (Y/N) smiled down at it and closed her hand around it. “See? And nothing happ… ened…”

Her words trailed off when she looked up, finding the light in the Sparrow’s eyes snuffed out. Her gaze was far away now, staring at the empty space before her. Her limbs that were once trembling were now stiff and unmoving. She looked like a soldier, like a…

“Clone…” Umbrella (Y/N) whispered as her head spun. “You’re a clone.”

Sparrow (Y/N) straightened, her face crumpling at those words. She looked to be in complete anguish as her shaking hands slowly reached up towards her abdomen. As soon as her nails sunk into her skin, her knees buckled and Umbrella (Y/N) rushed to catch her. She carefully lowered herself until she was sitting on the floor, her double resting between her legs with her head against her thigh. She was self-destructing.

“O-Oh, god…” The Sparrow sniveled as her blood dribbled down her skin. “I-I…”

“No.” The Umbrella sobbed. “N-No, don’t talk. Please… Please, j-just-”

“I-Is this gonna hurt, (Y/N)?” She cried. “Am I gonna die? I-Is it gonna hurt…?”

“I’m so sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t know, I’m so sorry…”

The Sparrow grunted as her flesh tore, blood oozing and collecting in both of their clothes. More blood seeped from her mouth as she threw her head back and looked up at her younger self, who was bawling her eyes out. “Hey… it’s okay. Don’t- Aah! D-Don’t worry about me, you little shit…” She smiled. “(Y/N), I need you to listen to me.”

Umbrella (Y/N) cried even harder as she watched the woman rip her stomach open even more.

“Listen to me. Are- A-Are you listening?”

“I’m listening…” She croaked out.

“Find me. The real me. Find her, okay? Y-You nee- need to pro-o- promise me.”

“I-I promise…”

Sparrow (Y/N) smiled just a tad wider and reached a bloody hand up, gently caressing the girl’s face with it. “I love you, little sister.” She choked as tears fell down her face. “You were the best part of me.”

The Umbrella nodded her head and tearfully smiled as well. “I love you, too…”

The hand on her face slowly slid away, leaving a handprint on her cheek before it traveled back down to the Sparrow’s body. She cried out in pain as she unwillingly tore her skin apart, blood splattering all throughout the room. (Y/N)’s body shook with screamed sobs as she held her close, petting her hair as she slowly died in her arms.

She tried to think of better times. Their shopping spree, their ice cream date. She thought of getting their nails done together and the way they freed each other through a simple haircut. She thought of exploring different parts of her, not the (Y/N) who bowed to her siblings’ every command, but the passionate and witty one who she learned to love. A part of her she didn’t know she needed until coming face-to-face with her.

(Y/N) had learned not only a different kind of love from her, but a different kind of loss.

When the screams decrescendoed to silence, she slowly opened her eyes, bile rushing to her throat at the mess of blood and organs that was left of such an amazing person. Her face was mangled beyond recognition and her blood stained (Y/N)’s hair and skin and clothes. For a long while, she could do nothing but stare in silent horror at the remains of what she had just witnessed.

Her glossy eyes stay trained on the shadow the remains had formed into, the black mass slinking its way out of the room. It was going to its source.

Quickly standing, (Y/N) stumbled down the halls, following the shadow as it practically flew across the floor. Soon, she didn’t need to follow it, for her sudden itchiness and sweats grew the closer she got to her destination. She viciously scratched at the itch on her shoulder as she entered the room her symptoms worsened in.

In the corner of her and Five’s room sat a huddled figure. They were in all black attire, knees pulled to their chest and arms covering their head. (Y/N) clenched her teeth against the sudden urge to punch this person in their mouth and slowly approached them. “Hey,” She tried to soothe the growl in her voice. “Are you okay?”

The true Sparrow (Y/N) snapped her head up, tears falling from her frightened (e/c) eyes. Every part of her body was trembling and her lip quivered with her frown. As soon as she set her sights on Umbrella (Y/N), her gaze turned venomous against her will. “It’s you…”

“Yeah,” The girl crouched beside her, wincing at the force she used to fight against her symptoms. “You- You might be feeling really weird right now, and it’s hard to explain. You might feel the need to kill me right now.”

“I-I do, actually.”

“And I’m asking that you don’t. Look, I wanna help you, okay? But in order for me to do that, we have to be nice to each other. No matter how crazy we feel right now.”

Sparrow (Y/N) sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes. Her eyes that were sunken in with dark circles underneath. Whatever energy she once had seemed to be drained from her body because she looked too weak to move. Her current position resembled a wounded animal in need of rescue. The way her eyes darted everywhere in the room as if she were looking for a quick exit told it all.

“I just… I don’t wanna be here.” She quietly cried, wiping away the sweat on her forehead.

Umbrella (Y/N) got to her feet and reached a hand out to her. “Okay, well… Where do you wanna go?”

The Sparrow looked up at her with big eyes, hesitancy clear on her face. Nevertheless, she took hold of the girl’s hand and wobbly stood. Wordlessly, she let go and slogged out of the room, slamming into a wall. She could hardly hold herself up.

The Umbrella hurried out of the room and let the woman lean her weight against her. As Sparrow (Y/N) led them through halls, the two silently endured their worsening symptoms. The flatulence was slightly embarrassing for the both of them, but they continued on anyway. Neither voiced it, but they were utterly parched, unable to produce any saliva to hold them over for now. And neither of them said it, but they were drowning in paranoid thoughts.

Was this a trap? What if she was leading her to some sort of torture chamber? What if she truly were trying to murder her? Would she be able to fight her off? No one would find her dead body, would they?

Why was there a tiny version of her? What did she want? Was she going to kill her? She couldn’t let that happen. She better think of a plan to take her down before she gets to her.

They both tried their best to push away these thoughts, but every time they popped a bubble, a new one would form, obscuring their vision from any common sense. It was the influence of the paradox psychosis, and they couldn’t give into the fiery rage they felt towards each other.

Umbrella (Y/N) looked up when she noticed they were heading straight for a certain room at the end of the hall. The White Buffalo Suite. She started to wonder what was so important to the Sparrow about this room, but right as they reached the door, the woman sharply turned to the wall beside the room. With a sniffle, Sparrow (Y/N) pressed her palm into the wall, a door forming and opening.

“What the hell is this?” The Umbrella asked as the Sparrow leaned away from her.

“A panic room.” She whispered.

“Why, though?”

“In case I… woke up.”

“I don’t understand-” Before she could go after her, Sparrow (Y/N) darted into the room and slammed the door shut. Umbrella (Y/N) pushed on the knobless door to force her way in, but it wouldn’t budge. “(Y/N)! What’s going on?”

She received no answer, so she pressed her back against the wall and slid to the floor. In silence, she waited for her double to exit the room. Everything in the past fifteen minutes had been such a blur and yet she remembered it so clearly. (Y/N) watched herself die in the most gruesome way possible.

What was the point of her true Sparrow self projecting her consciousness into a clone for so long? Was it something she decided to start doing? Was it against her will? Did she even know what she was doing? She would have to undergo much questioning in order to sort this all out.

(Y/N) flinched at the sound of a muffled bang and thud, and quickly turned to the hidden door. “(Y/N)?” She called out, knocking on the door. “You okay in there?”

No answer.

“(Y/N)...?”

At another knock, the door opened, granting her access. Stepping inside, she noticed that the room was devoid of any furniture aside from a table in the middle along with a chair. She quickly cupped her hand over her mouth to hold back the bile rapidly shooting up her throat at the sight before her.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Sparrow (Y/N) was sat at the table, her body slumped over with her head resting against it. Her arm was lying on the table as well, a handgun in her limp grasp. Her eyes were still wide open as blood leaked from the wound in her head, trailing down her face and pooling onto the table beside her head.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

(Y/N) tried to shake herself out of the state of horror she was in as she slowly approached the body, a shaky hand reaching out and taking the gun. When she checked it, she saw that there were no more bullets. She wondered whether or not it was always like that, if it was meant to be like that. (Y/N) couldn’t imagine what this woman went through. To constantly project herself into something that wasn’t entirely her. She knew what that was like.

Whenever she operated behind the eyes of her clones, she never truly felt herself. It was like working in a box, a box where you could never see quite right or hear the same. Even food tasted off. But to do it without a moment to take a step back into her own mind could have driven her to insanity.

Maybe that was what triggered this. She had been torturing herself for so long. And for what? What was the purpose of this? It didn’t make any sense and frankly, it pissed (Y/N) off. Because she knew that no version of herself would ever do this to their own mind. She had to have been forced to do this.

And (Y/N) only had one idea of who it could have been.

She needed to tell her family. She needed to tell Ben and Sloane. With a shaky inhale, she gently closed her double’s eyelids and left the room, the door closing behind her. (Y/N) shut her eyes to force her tears back, the quiet sob escaping through her lips failing her. At this point, she was barely holding herself together. What she had witnessed back-to-back in such a short amount of time had her head reeling and her body stumbling into walls as she hurried to the elevator.

When the doors opened, (Y/N) slowly stepped out. In the room before her, she saw her family all talking to each other. Sloane and Luther looked to be passing around something, everyone staring at the items in curiosity once they got one. She had a fleeting thought that wondered what it was, but it went away as soon as she set her sights on the person standing beside Klaus in the room.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

“You!”

Everyone turned to the source of the scream, their eyes widening at their sister, covered in blood and rushing up to them with a savage look in her eyes, the fire within them crackling and snapping the closer she got. Sloane held out whatever item she had to the girl, but she ignored it and headed straight for Reginald. Before anyone could do or say anything, (Y/N) landed a blinding right hook to his face. Gasps rang throughout the room as he stumbled, Klaus holding him upright.

Five wrapped both arms around her middle as he pulled her back. She didn’t even budge as her eyes glued themselves to the man who called himself her father, holding his cheek as he stared at her in complete and utter shock.

“HOW COULD YOU?!” She wildly thrashed against Five’s hold. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

Diego ran up to her and helped his brother hold her back when she almost freed herself. “(Y/N). (Y/N), calm down-”

“YOU TORTURED YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER?! YOU FUCK- YOU FUCKING LOCKED HER UP?!” She continued to holler her lungs out as Reginald straightened himself. “YOU FORCED HER TO PROJECT CLONE AFTER CLONE AFTER CLONE?!”

“(Y/N)-”

“YOU BUILT HER A FUCKING PANIC ROOM TO KILL HERSELF IN?! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Reginald slowly shook his head and reached a hand out. “You must understand, my child. She was severely-”

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!”

(Y/N) broke out of their hold and rushed up to him. Her hand swiped at him and she managed to slash her manicured fingernails across his cheek before Diego and Five grabbed her again, forcing her to the ground.

“No!!! Let me go! Let me go!!!”

Diego snapped his head up. “Klaus, get him out of here!”

“Right.” Klaus nodded and grabbed hold of Reginald’s arm, dragging him out of the room. “Luther, Sloane. Oh, my god. I’m beyond thrilled. You guys are gorgeous. Amazing. Send me your registry!”

As soon as they were gone, Diego and Five let go of (Y/N), allowing her to slump over, her brows touching the floor as she tried to bring herself back. She was losing it. She was slipping, she could feel it. Her grief and her anger were boiling over and she couldn’t keep up with it all.

(Y/N) felt all eyes on her as a hand rubbed her back. She quietly sobbed into her hands, a crumpled mess on the ground as they all glanced at each other, wondering what to do. None of them had ever seen her go off like that. She was always the calm and collected one. No one could have angered her to such a degree.

Five reached down and tilted her head up, cradling her bloodied face in his hands. His thumbs swiped her tears away, smearing some blood along with it, but he couldn’t stand to see her cry. Her eyes were so distant, stuck in whatever moment it was that broke her. Her shoulders shook with the force of the sobs building up in her.

“Come on,” He whispered, helping his wife to her feet. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

(Y/N) dragged her feet across the carpet as she let Five lead her out of the room. She couldn’t bear the looks she received. Her family looked so frightened of her. She had never done anything like this, she had never gotten that angry. Now that she finally did and now that everyone saw it, she felt even worse for not biting her tongue.

She turned her head to Sloane, who was still frozen in her spot, the item she was trying to give her still in her hand. (Y/N) gently took it from her, her hand gently cradling the small jar in her palm. It was beautifully decorated with some kind of stuffing inside. Behind the small tissue paper bows was beautiful calligraphy inviting her to a wedding. A wedding for Sloane and Luther.

She was so happy for them.

“Congratulations.” She cried before walking away with Five.

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

“Am I gonna die?”

(Y/N) shut her eyes tighter, wanting to squint the image out of her head.

“I-Is it gonna hurt…?”

Her heart slammed in her chest with the hammering beats.

“I love you, little sister.”

A voice above called to her. “Come back now.”

“You were the best part of me.”

“Come back up, (Y/N).”

Two hands assisted her out of the water and in an upright position in the tub. The water she sat in was red with the blood washed away from her skin, but she didn’t mind. She was glad to have it off of her. She didn’t speak for awhile as she let Five continue to scrub her skin in the otherwise silent spa. No one else was in there since everyone else on earth had been wiped out. Five had forbidden anyone from entering while he was taking care of her.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, slicking her hair back.

She shook her head.

“Okay,” He nodded and went back to cleaning her. “That was some shot you took at Dad. I think you’re the first out of all of us to do something like that.”

“He deserved it,” She rasped, eyes remaining on the sloshing water. “He forced her into insanity. She was… She was living her life through something that looked like her, but would never truly be her. And when she was back, she didn’t even wanna be here. As soon as I gave her the chance, she-”

Five stopped and leaned his head against hers and she broke out into sobs, gently running his hand up and down her bare back. He let her air out her emotions for a while as he placed gentle kisses to her shoulder. Other than that, he didn’t know what else to do. He wished he could just snap his fingers and fix everything, but he knew more than anyone that it took more than wishful thinking to fix a broken soul.

“I know… I know.” He whispered into her ear. “I know it sounds off-putting, but you need to let yourself relax. You’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time. Maybe the wedding will… take your mind off of it. Just for a bit.”

He was trying to find a silver lining. She always did it for him, it was the very least he could do for her. As Five began washing her hair in order to get all the blood out, his heart broke at her quiet cries. (Y/N) didn’t deserve any of this, and he wanted nothing more than to take all of her problems away. She just needed someone to talk to. He knew she was no good on her own in a time of distress.

“Maybe I should stay with you until the wedding.”

“No, no.” She looked up, gently wrapping a hand around his wrist. “Go to the bachelor party. Luther needs support.”

“Are you sure? You’ll be okay?”

She nodded. “I can even go and help Sloane. I know how nerve-wracking a wedding can be for the bride, and she doesn’t have any of her sisters. She needs someone with her.”

Five gently kissed her cheek, in awe at her kindness to others even in her worst moments. He constantly questioned himself with how he got so lucky. Once she was all clean, he carefully stood her up and wrapped one of the hotel’s robes around her body, leading her out of the spa.

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

Within another room sat Sloane in a silk robe, quietly sewing up her wedding dress. She didn’t mind the solitude, it was what she was used to growing up. Though, she had wished she could share this moment with her sisters. It was what any other bride would do. But there weren’t any other brides left in the world, one of the many things that made her different from the rest of them.

Suddenly, Ben walked into the room, heading straight for the sink in the corner. “So, it’s official. My ears are broken, and the idiot with the knives really can’t sing.”

“Diego. You know his name is Diego.”

“Oh, whatever.” He sighed and walked about the room as Sloane continued with her task.

“Maybe you should try and bce nice to him and the others.”

“And why would I do that?”

She looked up at him. “As much as I’d love to work out your anger issues right now, I have to get back to this. The wedding is in an hour.”

Ben narrowed his eyes at her. “Fei is dead.”

“Yeah. I know. And so are the others.”

“Oh, so that’s it? What about (Y/N), huh? What about her?!”

Sloane’s heart shattered at the crack in Ben’s voice and at the mention of her sister. In all honesty, that was all she had been thinking about besides the wedding. “I loved (Y/N), Ben. Just as much as you did. Just as much as you still do.”

“It doesn’t look like it. You’re turning your back on the Sparrow Academy. I mean, you heard Dad. We have training to do. Something big is about to go down.”

“I wish you were talking about my wedding.”

Ben sharply inhaled and walked up to his sister, sitting down across from her. “Sloane, listen to me-”

“No,” She placed both her hands over his. “You listen to me. I’m sorry they didn’t invite you to the bachelor party.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t care about that.”

“Yes, you do.” She spoke a little softer. “You care more about being invited to the bachelor party than you do Fei or the others. Maybe not more than (Y/N), but more than saving the world.”

Ben nervously chuckled as he tried to form a lie out of his mouth, a lie that would convince both her and himself. “That… That’s… That’s crazy.”

“Is it? You and I, we’ve never been alone. It’s always been the eight of us. Now it’s just you. So, congratulations, Ben. You’re finally Number One… of one.”

His eyes didn’t stray away from the chair she stood from, making her way over to the vanity on the other side of the room. “I’m a Sparrow, and so are you.”

“Not anymore.”

At that, he stood. “What’s so damn special about them, anyway?”

She turned to him. “They’re a real family. They don’t exist to sell action figures and tote bags.”

“We were more than that.”

“Were we?” She watched as his face fell. “Why is it so important for you to be a Sparrow?”

Ben turned and walked out of the room, but just before he was gone, he muttered something Sloane almost missed.

“Because I have nothing else.”

Once again, she was left alone to contemplate. Now she really wished someone were here with her. As if on cue, there was a very quiet knock on the door followed by an equally quiet voice. “Delivery for the bride.”

“You can come in.”

(Y/N) stepped inside, still in her robe, but with a small stereo in one hand and two wine glasses in the other, a bottle of wine tucked into her arm. When Sloane turned to her, she smiled in appreciation and fondness. “Uh- The guys are having a party, so why can’t the girls, right?” She tried a smile.

Sloane nodded with a giggle and went to help her, taking the glasses and stereo from her. After setting everything down, (Y/N) turned the stereo on to play jazz music. She quietly filled their glasses and handed one to Sloane, who gladly accepted it. A sort of awkward silence settled between them as (Y/N) watched Sloane work on her dress. She was trying. She was trying to keep it together, trying to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t have to think about-

“Thank you for being with her… when it happened…”

(Y/N) cringed inwardly and nodded. “I… I wish I knew it was going to happen. So, I could’ve saved her.”

Sloane looked away. “How… did it all happen?”

She shut her eyes.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.”

She shook her head. “N-No, I need to. Plus, you deserve to know,” She opened her eyes, noticing that Sloane was having a bit of trouble with the needle, so she reached over and took it into her hand, fixing it for her as she thought of what to say. Mentioning the gruesome death of the clone was unnecessary, so she skipped over that entire ordeal. “She was scared. She didn’t understand anything. All she’s known is a… a trance, and an occasional meal. She wanted out.”

Sloane sniffled at the thought of her sister in such a whiplash state of mind. She felt so guilty, even in her last moments, they weren’t there for her like they should’ve been. Just as a tear fell from her eye, (Y/N) reached out and wiped it away with a soft smile.

“Hey… I know what it’s like to lose a sibling. I lost my Ben in my timeline and… we all blamed ourselves for so long. Luckily for me, I had a seance of a brother and was able to talk to him, but it was never the same. He always told me that it wasn’t my fault, that he was just happy to see me. I’m sure, if we could see her right now, she’d just be happy to see you.”

“You really think so? After everything?”

“Of course, Sloane. She loved all of you so much… She’d do anything for you. She’d be in this seat, drinking wine and listening to slow jazz with you before your wedding. And she’d be so proud of you.”

Sloane smiled and giggled with a smile, more tears rushing down her face. “I hope she forgave me. I love her so much…”

“She loves you, too. I promise,” (Y/N) leaned away and let Sloane continue as she lifted her glass to her lips. “You know, I was married before Five. My wedding day was so special to me… I’m happy you get to feel this, too.”

With a grin, Sloane took a sip of her wine. “It’s been one hell of a ride to get here.”

“Tell me about it. I still can’t believe this is happening to Luther.” (Y/N) chuckled. “You know, growing up, I wasn’t the biggest fan of him.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Couldn’t stand him. I mean, he was One and I was Eight. We were raised to compete against each other the most. Then it followed us into adulthood.”

“I’m so sorry…”

(Y/N) waved it off. “It’s alright. We’re much better now. We went through too much to let bullshit parenting affect us. I’d take a blade to the chest for him, no hesitation, which is something I’d never say as a kid… Anyway, I’m proud of him for finding someone like you. You guys deserve each other.”

Sloane stood from her seat and pulled (Y/N) with her, bringing her into a tight hug. She reciprocated the affection, her heart warming. As Sloane got dressed, (Y/N) put her bouquet together. It wasn’t anything grand, but they didn’t need grand. They were making the best of what they had.

An idea sparking, she let her fingers graze the stem of the flower, pulling up another one from it. Thank you, (Y/N), she thought as she continued the process with every other flower until there was a much bigger bouquet to put together. Finishing up, she set the beautiful and bountiful bouquet back down before getting ready herself.

She found it ironic that her dress was red. She had just rid herself of the dreadful color from her skin and her hair. The dress was the only one she could find on short notice that was her size and fit their “creative black tie” dress code. It was beautiful, nonetheless, velvet and tea length with a v-neckline and no sleeves. Something to make her feel gorgeous without pulling out all the stops. After applying a bit of makeup, she picked up the flowers and walked up to Sloane.

“You look amazing.” The girl softly smiled. Sloane grinned and turned to her. It was true, Sloane looked stunning. Her dress was nothing grand, but she still managed to look like an angel in it.

“Thank you. And you look beautiful,” She tilted her head. “Is that… her bracelet?”

(Y/N) placed a hand over the white beaded bracelet she had kept and handed the bouquet to Sloane. “Y-Yeah… It has no effect on me, and it’s the only thing of her I have left.”

At Sloane’s sorrowful smile, (Y/N) pulled a duplicate from the bracelet and gently put it on the woman’s wrist. “There. So we can both have a piece of her.”

The two of them clasped hands, smiling warmly at each other. Sloane’s heart was so full. This (Y/N) reminded her so much of her own in ways that she hadn’t even thought of. Past all her sister’s flaws was just someone who loved her family. A family that would never admit they loved her as well. That was one of the differences between the two (Y/N)s. One was loved and the other wasn’t. It was how they turned out to be completely different people, but the parts that mattered were the constant in her.

“Thank you for everything, (Y/N).” She whispered with teary eyes. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked you for. I know it’s last minute, but I would be… so honored… if you would stand with me as my maid of honor.”

(Y/N)’s smile widened as she nodded. “I would be honored to be your maid of honor.”

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

The elevator doors opened, revealing the decorated banquet hall. The tables and chairs set up were enough to seat a much larger wedding, the lights gave the room a lively glow and the chandeliers above were such an odd contrast to the disco ball hanging above the dancefloor the tables surrounded. Everyone stepped into the room, some in awe and some indifferent, but all in very nice attire.

“Not sure this place is gonna be big enough.” Klaus sarcastically spoke.

“This better be an open bar.” Allison sighed out.

Lila encouragingly smiled at her. “Hey, come on. It’s for Luther. Let’s perk up.” She turned to get a better look at the room, voicing her astonishment. The ding of the elevator sounded, Luther and Viktor walking out, the former fretting over his appearance.

“I don’t know. Normally, my tush looks good.”

“No, it’s-”

“Ah,” Allison’s tone dripped with sarcasm as soon as Viktor neared her vicinity. “I see you’ve gone for the oversized button-down. Original.”

Viktor was quick to retort. “You do realize there’s no paparazzi here, right?”

“What? Dang it.”

Luther shushed them, interrupting their small argument. “Listen to me, you two. This is my day, alright? So, if you two can just get along for a couple of hours, you can consider that my wedding gift.”

“Well, he started it, so-”

“You literally just started it-”

“Bah, bah, bah!” He shushed them again. “My day. Two hours. Do you think you can manage that?”

Just as they agreed, the elevator dinged again, the doors opening to reveal Sloane, arm-in-arm with (Y/N). All eyes were on the bride, staring in amazement, Luther’s stare full of every ingredient for an unconditional love. The only one looking at (Y/N) was Five, matching his brother’s love-sick expression. Ben rolled his eyes at the scene.

“Let’s get this over with before I die of cringe.”

—————————————

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