#but screwdrivers? my best fucking friend
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see my personal problem is i want to be a stoner so bad i love weed and i love edibles and i love being high. but like. i just love oranges and orange juice way too fucking much . i get high and then obviously get dehydryated and thirsty and my idiot monkey brain is like ooga booga NEED orange juice and then i just wasted a whole edible. the solution? i just drink screwdrivers made with popov. this could not possibly go wrong
#drugs#alcohol#ask to tag#but no literally like.#when i first turned 18 i did sooo many edibles#not as many as my friends did but we were getting fucked up weekly#now im 20 and i genuinely dont even remember when the last time i got fully stoned was#i had a single light puff of my gf's brother's weed vape a couple weeks ago#but i barely felt it#and before that i have NO memory#but screwdrivers? my best fucking friend#popov is the best $20 mistake i will continue to make#arthur barks
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The Coyotes Cry-One
*gif made by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Pairings: MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian x OFC.
Warnings/Tropes: violence, death, swearing, smut(very mature), angst, fluff, forced proximity, forbidden love, dark romance, mafia themes, arranged marriage, tattoo artist.
Summary: Centered on the story of a young bride whose fairy-tale vision of the Concrete Jungle is shattered when her father, part of the Irish Crime Family; McManus strikes a marital peace deal with the mafia head of OMNS, Noah Sebastian. Scarlett is faced with rage and conflict, as she is forced to work alongside her new husband in his tattoo shop that fronts for his mafia dealings. Devastating events leave Scarlett with the realization that there is more to Noah than meets the eye. "I would willingly, lay down my life for you if I had to." The power of love is thicker than blood.
Authors Note: Here is chapter one! I don't think this series will be more than six parts but you never know with how often I'm always adding things. This series will have mature themes throughout as a warning.
Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @happi-goth @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @vinyardmauro @malice-ov-mercy @concreteemo @wheezybrenda @thisbicc @malerieee @mrs-zimmerman @srorgana1 @miserylovescompany1195-blog @embracethereaper42 @lizzieseveride @eclipseeetop @sundamariis @calleyx13 @krisslee18 @princessgh0st @aprosiacperson @xxrainstorm @ourdiabolikal-rapture @iamamatus @klutzy-kay24 @cookiesupplier @bngurngheart @idwt-money @rain-down-on-me
NOAH
The screams were muted due to the concrete confines of the room, the cold, moist air circulating us in a suffocating grip. But none of that mattered, the only thing that did was strapped to the chair in front of me. Cleaning the sharp blade on the once-white handkerchief, I clicked my tongue at the raw screams.
“Scream all you want. No one can hear you all the way down here,” I said while pointing to the concrete walls. “I mixed the concrete myself with a special formula. Think of it as soundproof.”
The man spat blood at my feet, nearly missing my black boots. “Fuck you!”
A chuckle to the left of me and I glanced over to one of my right-hand men, Joakim. Although, we in OMNS always called him Jolly.
“I applaud the fire in you,” Jolly nodded at the man. “You’ll need it.”
Twirling the knife between my fingers, I yet again asked the same question that I asked three times previously.
“Who killed Vincent?”
“I already told you fuckers, I don’t know!” The man, Barry, choked out on a mouth full of blood. “You’re asking the wrong guy!”
As Barry fought against the bindings, the chair scraping against the ground at our feet, I hummed in mock disappointment. “No, Barry. I don't think we are. My intel tells me that someone in the Irish Mafia killed a dear friend of mine.”
“I hate to tell you, your intel is wrong,” Barry said with a dry chuckle.
Suddenly his screams of agony sounded like music to my ears as I dug the knife deep into his thigh directly above the previous wound that Jolly had given him with the screwdriver. My hair fell into my eyes and I hastily brushed it back with my large hand, blood smearing in the dark strands. I’d been due for a haircut for the last few weeks but haven’t found anyone able to give me the correct Levi cut since my older barber passed away.
“My intel is never wrong,” I gritted out through clenched teeth while twisting the knife deeper.
Barry was a blubbering mess, dark tendrils of his hair covered the agony on his face so with a sharp nod from me, Jolly stood behind Barry and ripped his head back so I could watch in pleasure.
“Now, I’m only going to ask one more time,” I twisted the knife deeper. “Who killed Vincent?”
He did his best to writhe away but with my knife piercing him in place and Jolly’s tight grip on his hair, there was nowhere for Barry to run. Blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, and the cut on his eyebrow. Before we captured him, he had the looks of a movie star but now, I couldn't help but cringe.
“I already told you,” he sobbed, a mess of blood and snot. “I swear.”
Jolly and I shared a look for a brief moment before we pushed away from Barry to slink over to the far end of the room to have a conversation.
“Do you believe him?” Jolly tied up his hair into a messy bun.
I placed my hands on my hips and sighed. “I don’t think he knows who killed Vincent but he knows the right direction we need to look. We need to crank it up a notch and show him that OMNS isn't going to back down from this.”
Instantly, he understood and while he retreated up the stairs to my office, I titled my head at Barry.
“What family do you work for?” I asked.
His breathing was shallow and unsteady thanks to the hard blows of Jolly’s fists to his ribs but I had to marvel at this kid's drive to remain loyal.
“The Walsh’s,” he eventually answered.
My brows furrowed in confusion. “The Walsh’s haven’t been around since they moved their operations back to Boston. Why are you still here running the streets for them?”
Barry lifted his heavy head and wore a smug smile. “Call me committed.”
“No, I don't think that’s it,” I shook my head and took two large steps towards him, him shrinking back into himself. “I think it’s the fact that you’re lying to me and I fucking hate liars.”
“Fucking shit!”
He cursed when I ripped out the knife from his thigh to press the blade against his neck.
“You’re insane,” Barry shuddered when he noticed the playful gleam in my eyes.
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But I also don’t like liars. Now, I’ll ask again. What family do you work for?”
“It’s a new family on the rise called O’shove it up your ass,” he spat in my face.
Literally.
His saliva and blood dripped down my cheek but I didn’t even flinch and made no effort to wipe it away. Instead, I broke out into a wide smile when I heard Jolly returning with something special in tow; something that made Barry’s eyes widen in fear.
“Wh-what the fu-fuck, man?! Do you just have that lying around?” He stuttered.
Glancing over my shoulder, I extended my hand to Jolly who in turn placed the handle of the katana in my palm. Standing straight now, I studied the old sword with careful precision.
“This used to be my great-great-great grandfathers; passed down through each generation. It might be old but I have the blade sharpened every once in a while, just in case,” I said while slowly removing the blade from the sheath.
The dim light overhead cast its faded yellow glow on the sharp blade and something inside of me twinged with sheer delight.
“Ju-ju-st in case fo-for what?”
Jolly snorted at the stuttering mess of Barry while leaning against the concrete wall.
“Tell us what we want to know and you won’t have to find out.”
The sharp tip of the katana pressed lightly against Barry’s jugular, all it would take would be one flick of my wrist to end it all however I refrained, not wanting to end the fun before I got what I needed.
“What family do you work for?” I asked again, this time with less patience than the last time.
Barry’s eyes glanced down from the long blade at his throat to Jolly then finally up to me as I towered over him. His bottom lip wavered as he finally nodded.
“Okay, okay. Promise you won’t kill me?”
He tried to wager but to humor him, I gave a curt nod. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll think about it.”
“Fuck,” Barry sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m good as dead anyway. The McManus family don’t like rats and a low-level drug dealer like me isn’t worth saving.”
My grip on my katana slipped slightly at the name but I was quick to recover. “The McManus?”
He nodded widely. “ Yea. I work for the brothers; Connor and Murphy. I deal their drugs and run their errands.”
“So you’re their bitch?” Jolly asked.
Barry’s shoulders fell. “Essentially, yes.”
“Did the McManus brothers kill Vincent?” I asked while tightening my grip on the handle of the katana.
“No,” he shook his head, the blood from the wound above his eye now pooling into his eyes. “But they might know who did it. I can try and set up a meeting with them, on your behalf. Maybe they can lead you in the direction you’re looking for?”
Jolly gave me a look and I held up a finger, not quite finished with my conversation with Barry.
“Why the fuck would they listen to you if you’re just their bitch?”
This brought a wicked smile to his face as he used his shoulder to wipe away the blood from his chin.
“Because Murphy McManus doesn't like it when his daughter is threatened.”
A loud rumble erupted in my chest, like a ravenous growl, as I dug the blade of the katana deeper into Barry’s neck, blood now oozing from the fresh wound. I ignored his wails of pain, now only seeing red.
“You’ve got some balls kid to threaten the daughter of one of the most feared Irish Mafia families,” I said.
Barry shrugged in his binds. “I didn’t say it would be coming from me. Word on the street is that McManus' grandfather had issues with your grandfather some odd years ago. They’d believe me if I said the great Noah Sebastian was looking to start a turf war.”
With a scowl, I snapped my head at Jolly. “Get this piece of shit his phone so he can make the call.”
Never once faltering the blade from Barry’s neck, I watched with narrowed eyes as Jolly removed one of the binds around his wrist and tossed the phone on his lap.
“Make the meeting. If I hear one threat on the daughter, I’ll end your life before you even hang up the phone,” I seethed behind the mask of my hair as it fell into my eyes.
My heart beat like a thunderstorm in my chest at the thought of the McManus daughter. No one knew of her and what she meant to not only the family but me as well; besides my closest allies.
Barry’s fingers worked fast to type out a message before showing me the screen and with my free hand, I snatched it from him to read it.
Barry: The brother's food will be delivered at six p.m. tonight.
Unknown: What’s on the menu?
Barry: Japanese with a side of Swiss.
“Joakim is Swedish,” I corrected Barry. “I’m assuming this whole dinner rous is to keep the authorities off your back if they go snooping?”
“Look at you! I think you earned yourself a gold star,” Barry joked.
Jolly’s fist collided with his face, his neck snapping to the side, and the faint red mark from his ring began to rise on Barry’s cheek.
“Let me guess, he’s the muscle between the two of you?” Barry spat out a chunk of blood.
Not bothering to look away from his phone as a new message came in, I answered his question.
“No, that’s Ash. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.”
Unknown: Dinner will be served in the study. 6 o’clock.
“It’s set,” I tossed the phone to Jolly who dropped it to the ground seconds before his boot came crashing down on it.
“What the fuck! You guys owe me a new phone!”
Placing the sheath back over the katana, I set it on the table along with the other wide variety of weapons and turned back to Barry with my hands crossed behind my back; grasping the weapon tightly. He glanced between Jolly and me and noticed the sinister gleam dancing behind my honey eyes.
“Hang on,” he began thrashing in the chair, free hand swinging widely. “You said I could live.”
“I did. But watch what you say next.”
Quickly, Jolly grabbed Barry’s free arm to drag his still-bound body over to the table behind me and held his wrist down. His hand was on display for my wicked plan.
“Barry, I have a question for you. If you answer wrong, well-,” I pulled out the hammer from behind my back and shook it in front of him.
His eyes widened in fear but I paid no mind to it, simply asked my question.
“Will Murphy’s daughter be there tonight?”
“Fuck no! Dumb broad never leaves her bedroom,” Barry answered. “She’s holed up in there all hours of the day. The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.”
Jolly sucked in a breath just as I raised the hammer, bringing it down on Barry’s pinky, whose cries were overshadowed by the noise of his bones breaking.
“Why are you so obsessed with this broad?!”
I brought the hammer down again, this time breaking his ring and pointer finger. Now he was practically having an exorcism with how he was moving about on the chair, struggling to break free from the binds.
“One more question then I’m finished with this game,” I said while craning my neck to the side before getting eye level with the man. “Do you suspect the McManus family killed Vincent?”
While he stayed silent, the look that flashed over his hazel eyes told me everything I needed to know. Turning on my heels, I dropped the hammer on the table and began walking upstairs to leave Jolly to clean up until Barry’s voice halted me in my tracks.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the broad pulled the trigger herself. She’ll do whatever she can to get Daddy’s attention since she was never the favorite..”
My shoulders went rigid and I could faintly hear Jolly mutter under his breath something in Swedish before I grabbed the gun from behind my back that had been tucked in the waist paint of my black slacks and fired two rounds straight into Barry’s chest.
“Noah,” Jolly started.
I waved him off before dropping the gun on the table. “Let’s be real, Jolly. We weren’t letting him walk out of here alive anyway.
“McManus,” he sighed while rubbing his jaw. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
I cleaned the blood from my fingers and rings before letting out a long breath. I knew he wouldn’t remember the name but that name haunted me for years, plagued my entire existence in more ways than one.
“They’re one of the most notorious Irish Mafia families. Their lineage started in Ireland generations ago before relocating to Boston where the McManus brothers were raised by their grandfather, Fergal. They moved to Los Angeles when the brothers were in their mid-twenties.”
“Wait,” Jolly’s head snapped over towards me. “The twins that went on that killing spree all those years ago in Boston. The last anyone heard from them is when they shot Yakavetta in open court.”
“Exactly why they moved here. Fergal didn't appreciate the hot trail on them so they hid out here for a few years. But Fergal couldn’t handle laying low for long because he began building the ranks here. Overstepping on my grandfather's turf, because he was still young at the time.” I grabbed the weapons we used on Barry and tossed them into the bucket of bleach in the utility sink.
“You know a lot about this family,” Jolly noted.
I hummed. “My grandfather told me all about them growing up. He wanted to make sure I was well versed in the McManus family once I took over.”
Glancing down at myself, I hummed again in displeasure when I noticed the blood spatter all over my white turtleneck.
Should have worn the black one, idiot.
I went about cleaning up the mess, ignoring the slumped-over body in the chair for a moment.
“The daughter. Do you think she did it?” Jolly wondered.
I halted unraveling the plastic we used to wrap the dead bodies for a few seconds before letting my shoulders drop slightly. “I don’t believe so. While the McManus brothers do hire hitmen to do their dirty work, there’s no way Murphy would make his own blood do it.”
“I know there’s some sort of history between you and her. With all of us-”
His words trailed off when I snapped my eyes over to him. “There is no history, Jolly. She’s just someone who went to high school with us. That was years ago and I doubt she even remembers that we went to the same school. She was too busy being preoccupied with other things.”
All of us in OMNS grew up together since we were twelve years old, Jolly moved here from Sweden when he was ten. We’d all been inseparable for the last sixteen years in the schoolyard and now the streets of the Concrete Jungle.
Not saying another word, the two of us busied ourselves cleaning up our mess and by the time we returned upstairs to my office. The staircase to the hidden basement was located behind a bookshelf and while Jolly closed it, I rummaged through the drawers of my desk to find a different shirt.
Now dressed in a fresh black t-shirt, we stepped out of my office and the sounds of tattoo machines reached my ears and I smirked walking into the open lobby. Every one of my artists had someone in their chairs and my most sought-after artist, Nicholas, glanced up at me for a second before returning to tattooing his client.
“How’d the meeting go?” He asked.
“Didn’t work out. We have another one set for 6 tonight,” Jolly informed.
I went up to the counter of my tattoo shop and glanced down at the book. It was a full day of appointments not to mention the group of girls that came in for a walk in. They were chittering like birds about how it was the blonde's bachelorette party and she specifically wanted me.
In more ways than one.
While she was cute, she wasn’t my type.
Roger, the receptionist of Under The Right Lights Tattoo Parlor, and newest recruit of OMNS glanced at me over his shoulder.
“Oh hey, Noah. Are you ready for the walk-in?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not tattooing today. But I do have a job for you.”
His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”
“Tonight when the shop closes, stick around. We need your help with something,” I patted his shoulder.
“You got it, boss,” Roger nodded with a wide smile.
Turning on my heels, I stuffed my hands in my pockets to glance at my studio. I opened Under The Right Lights about six years ago and even though we had a slow start, once word got out that Noah Sebastian and Nicholas Ruffilo tattooed here, business flowed in through the doors.
I took over my grandfather's other business eight years ago but needed something to cover those dealings so that's when I thought of opening a tattoo shop with my best friends; my brothers. While Nicholas tattooed, Jolly ran the financial side of things, and Nick, or as we called him Folio, ran the motorcycle shop right next door. He was a mechanic, one of the best in town, and he often frequented here through the door to the left of Nicholas’ booth when he wasn’t busy fixing bikes.
Above my tattoo shop housed thirty apartments, all owned by me, and I lived in the penthouse on the tenth floor. Everyone in OMNS also lived in their own units so we could always be close to each other, in case something came up. With nine of the units being occupied by us, I rented out the other twenty-one for another form of income each month.
I treated everyone as an equal with the tattoo studio and OMNS but they also respected me enough to know that I had the final say with both. Things didn’t get approved unless I gave the okay.
Glancing down at my watch, I noticed that it was only four in the afternoon meaning we had a few hours until we met with the brothers. So I walked over to the back area of the shop where we used a private section to make a small gym where I knew Ash and Byran would be.
Ash was not only my bodyguard but he was also my trainer and Bryan took photos of the tattoos and ran our social media account.
“Tonight, six o'clock,” I said while crossing my arms.
Bryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “I’ll make sure the SUV is loaded up.”
“Thank you,” I then turned towards Ash. “I’ve got a body downstairs. Do you mind?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll bring Matt. He needs a break from managing everything. Get out and smell the trees in the woods. Or the salty brine of the ocean.”
With a snort, I bid them goodbye before retreating into my office and ignoring the preposterous waves of the blonde in the waiting area and instead thought of a certain redhead.
SCARLETT
With a longing sigh, I brushed away the fire-red strands of hair from my face and adjusted my position on my bed to continue reading the book in front of me. It was the book Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation by L. David Mech. This was the third time I’ve read but every time, I somehow learned something new.
I've been out of college with my degree for four years now and although I haven’t done anything since then, I still tried to keep up with my studies. The possibility of opening up a wildlife rescue still weighed heavy on my mind but I knew my father would never agree to it. His money was to be used for other business opportunities.
The spiral notebook was filled with my chicken scratch handwriting and after tossing down the pen, I shook out the cramp from my hand to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It was nearing six in the evening and when it would be time for dinner with my father and uncle, they had to cancel due to a meeting that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Next to the clock was a picture that made my heart drop to my stomach like it did every time. It was of me, my father, and my mother back on my eighteenth birthday and high school graduation; the last picture we took together.
Because she was murdered that night.
Eight years later the tears still burned in my eyes when I thought back to that night. We were driving home from dinner when someone crashed into our car and ran it off the road into a ditch. My father managed to pull me from the wreckage before the car burst into flames; my mother however wasn’t that lucky. We never found out who ran us off the road that night and whenever I asked about it, my father would wave me off and say one word only.
Revenge.
The relationship with my father was never the same since that night and once my Uncle Connor moved in, I retreated into myself. I loved them both dearly, but I blamed their life in the Irish Mafia for my mother's death. I did my best to remain respectful because I still lived in the McManus estate and knew I couldn’t make it on my own; not yet. My father had made it clear more than once that the only way I was to move out was either if I had my own money or married.
Hence why I was doubling up on my studies, I needed to find some kind of job with my degree, a simple job at a store or fast food place would not be enough to survive on my own. And clearly, my relationship with my boyfriend was nowhere near marriage level yet; we’d only been together for less than a year and never spoke about getting married.
I checked my phone and noticed Cory texted me a little while ago.
Cory: I have to cancel tomorrow night, sorry. Work is sending me out of town and won’t be back till Sunday.
I rolled my eyes knowing damn well he wasn’t the slightest bit sorry.
Me: OK. See you then, I guess.
I locked my phone, the sound echoing in the quiet of my bedroom, and I busied myself once again with the book in front of me until there was a soft knock on my door.
“Yes?” I called out.
The door cracked open slightly and a head of white curls popped their head inside and I instantly smiled.
“Hi, Dortha.”
“Hello dear,” our housekeeper smiled, resting her frail hands in the pocket of her apron. “I know your father and uncle can’t make dinner but I still made your favorite. If you’re hungry.”
My stomach growling gave way to my answer so with a chuckle, I let my studies be to follow Dortha out of my room and down to the dining room where I knew she already had a plate of food set up for me.
NOAH
The car ride across town to the McManus estate was filled with the ramblings of the other members of OMNS while I sat quietly behind the wheel, mind filled with more pressing matters. I gripped the wheel so hard that my knuckles were turning white, something Nicholas, who sat in the passenger seat, noticed right away.
“Are you alright?”
I nodded. “Just going over what I’m going to say.”
Pulling the car to a slow stop at a red light, I drummed my fingers against the dashboard, trying another thing to calm my nerves since the deep breathing exercises my therapist recommended weren’t working.
“Hey boss,” Roger spoke up from the back seat between Ash and Bryan. “Maybe someone else should drive. You seem nervous.”
My eyes sliced into him through the rearview mirror. “No one drives my car but me.”
With a shaking hand through his golden locks, he nodded and kept his head down the rest of the drive once I hit the gas again.
“Do you know what you’re going to ask them? Folio wondered from the seat behind me while tapping the wooden drumsticks he always carried on his lap.
“I’m thinking of coming out right and asking if they have any idea who killed Vincent,” I answered.
Jolly shifted in the seat behind Nicholas and without having to gaze over at him, I knew he wasn’t too thrilled about my idea.
“I’d say we just pop these fools. End this turf war once and for all,” Roger pipped up again.
His excitement for being brought along tonight was evident but I was suddenly regretting my decision.
“Chill, we need to be smart about this,” I said.
“We can’t go in there with guns blazing,” Jolly added.
I came to a stop in front of the large, gothic-like gate, and rolled down my window so I was able to click the button on the intercom.
“Yes?” A thick Irish accent responded.
I cleared my throat. “I have the brothers' dinner. Japanese with a side of Swiss.”
Only static came from the speaker for a long moment until the loud creak of the gate caused Roger to jump in surprise and Byran to stifle a laugh behind his hand. The SUV glided up the long drive with ease as the setting sun spilled inside casting all of us in an orange and purple glow. We all piled out as soon as the car was parked in front of the McManus manor and I nodded towards Bryan, Ash, and Roger.
“You three hang back in the foyer in case the brothers don’t want all of us in the meeting,” I said while clicking the safety on my gun before stuffing it in my back waistband.
While Ash and Bryan agreed, both double-checking their weapons, Roger on the other hand made his distaste for my orders known with a low scowl.
“All due respect, Noah,” he began.
I adjusted the peaky hat on my head and raised a brow. “Is there a problem, Roger?”
He shifted on his feet. “I’ve been the recruit for six months now, don’t you think I worked up being involved in one of these meetings?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to my snarky remark to myself but Folio was quick to respond in my place.
“Kid, calm down. It took Bryan six years to work up the ranks. Ash, it took him ten years.”
Roger gaped at the two of them who seemed to have played along with Folio’s joke and agreed with a nod.
“Can I atleast get a gun?” He outstretched his arms. “You guys are sending me into the warzone with no weapon!”
“It’s only a warzone if you make it one,” Ash said.
“No weapons for recruits,” I said.
Not wanting to waste any more time out here, I led the group of us up the crumbling steps and came to a stop in front of the door. Motioning to Roger, I waited for him to ring the bell, and glanced around the vast grounds of the McManus estate while stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my black peacoat.
“Nervous?”
Peering to my left, I nodded to Nicholas. “A bit.”
He clapped my shoulder. “Let’s keep our questions short. Try to get the info we need then we can leave.”
“Yeah,” Folio agreed while shivering. “This place gives me the creeps. It looks like it's days away from caving in.”
Glancing up at the old brick mansion, I had to agree with him. It looked as if neither of the McManus brothers bothered to keep up with the maintenance of the home and the overgrown grass on the other side of the driveway was proof of that.
Suddenly the front door opened with an eerie creaking and all of our eyes met with an older lady with a head full of white curls.
“Yes?”
I stepped forward. “My name is Noah Sebastian. OMNS has a meeting with the brothers.”
Her brown eyes shifted between all of us before she slowly stepped to the side, letting us all pile inside the grand manor. While the outside needed some work, the inside was marvelous with expensive pieces of art and not a speck of dust anywhere.
“My name is Dorthea. I will let the brothers know you’re here,” she said with a thick Irish accent.
Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention and when I gazed up at the top of the stairs landing, all of my breath left my soul when those familiar hazel eyes met mine. All of the hairs not only on the back of my neck but on my arms stood straight with the buzz of electricity that shot through me when I noticed her eyes double in size. The brightness of her gaze struck a chord in my heart, playing a soft melody that only the two of us could hear.
It had been a long while since I’d seen her last but fuck, she still looked absolutely breathtaking like she did the night of high school graduation.
Her hair was deeper red than the last time we saw each other, now it cascaded down her back, and when she outstretched her arms on the wooden banister, her head tilted to the side in a way to assess all of these strangers in her home.
Although four of us weren’t strangers to her. We all went to high school together even though she wouldn’t remember us. She was always with the group of kids that were rich, too good to be seen with the bottom dwellers like us.
I removed my hat to hand it to Roger to hold onto it then shook out my hair from my eyes before slicking it back and I could have sworn I heard someone’s breath catch in their throat.
“Noah Sebastian, standing here in my house. I must say, I almost didn’t recognize you without the long hair.”
Well, shit.
“Saoirse McManus,” I hummed in response to her sarcastic tone.
A low scowl pulled on her lips before she pushed herself away from the banister and quickly scurried down the hall, disappearing around the corner.
It was almost bittersweet seeing her again after all this time. While I wish it had been under better circumstances, I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to get wrapped up in Saoirse McManus; not again. I had built an empire since dropping out of high school and I couldn’t let anything tear it down, especially a silly little crush.
It never was a silly crush. It was always more than that. You’re just bitter that she never felt the same.
Why would she ever have feelings for me? In her eyes and her financial stature, OMNS were nobodies; the gum on the bottom of their shoe. While they ran their empire up in the rich estates of the wealthy, we ran ours in the slums of the Concrete Jungle. There may have been a point in my life when I wanted to be in the same stature as her but now having earned my wealth, I realized that all I needed was my brothers.
Bullshit.
If that were the case, seeing her tonight wouldn’t have taken my breath away and cock twitched with such a dire need for her.
“What was that about her not remembering you?” Jolly asked.
I ran a hand over my mouth. “I didn’t think she would.”
“Hey,” Roger’s head popped in between Jolly and I. “That’s the daughter, right? You know, rumors are going around the CJ that she’s the one that killed Vincent.”
My eyes sliced into him and Jolly had to press a hand to my chest to keep me from wrapping my hands around his throat.
“The CJ?” I spat out through a clenched jaw.
Roger swallowed thickly. “Yeah. The Concrete Jungle. I thought you would understand the nickname since you were the one who created the Concrete Jungle. I spend a lot of time in the tunnels with groups of guys who tell stories of OMNS success. Why do you think I wanted to join so badly?”
“Do me a favor, kid. Stop lingering in the underground parts of the jungle because you don’t know what dwells underneath there. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation you can’t sweet talk your way out of,” I said.
“What?” He let out an airy chuckle. “Are you hiding a tank full of sirens? Or creating your own artificial intelligence?”
With a dark look filling my eyes, I gave him a smirk before giving him my back when I heard the faint footsteps of Dorthea returning.
“Just the Japanese and Swiss,” she pointed to us.
Jolly let out a groan. “I’m Swedish.”
“Follow me,” she hooked a finger at us, ignoring Jolly.
Giving the rest of my brothers a nod, we followed Dorthea down a long wide hallway, and I took in the sight of all the pictures lining the wall, noticing that they were family pictures of the McManus family.
The first picture was of the man who started it all over one hundred years ago, Cillian McManus. It continued for a long while until Fergal’s familiar face caught my eyes, followed by his son, then Connor, then Murphy with his wife and Saiorse.
Coming to a brief stop, I studied the picture for a long moment, before Jolly pulled me along.
“The brothers are allowing you five minutes of their time,” Dorthea informed as we stopped in front of a set of double doors and her hands wrapped around the golden knobs.
“How generous,” I grumbled under my breath just before the door opened.
Inside was a huge library/office combo. Three out of four of the walls were just bookshelves full of books, the smell of old literature tickling my nose. Thick black carpet covered almost every inch of the floor and in the center of the room were two long burgundy couches that sat horizontally to an old fireplace that was blazing with hot flames. I felt the warmth on my face when Jolly and I stepped inside.
On either couch sat the brothers, both having a glass dangling from their fingers, and their hushed conversation seized when they noticed our presence.
“Ah,” the taller one with shorter hair muttered as he slowly stood to his feet and extended his free hand toward me. “You must be Noah. An acquaintance of mine said I’d be expecting you. I’m Conner.”
After we shook hands, Connor motioned to the other man on the couch, who still had yet to stand up. “That is my twin brother Murphy.”
Giving him a curt nod, I clasped my hands behind my back. “This is Joakim. We won’t take much of your time. But we do have one question to ask.”
While Murphy muttered something in Irish under his breath, Connor urged me to ask.
“About six months ago, a dear friend of ours Vincent Riquier was murdered, his body being left on the doorstep of my tattoo shop. I had some intel point me in the direction of someone in the Irish family.”
Connor's brow raised as he took a small drink of his amber liquid. “Are you saying we had something to do with it?”
Jolly shook his head. “Not at all. We were just wondering if you could let us know if our intel was correct since it came from one of your men.”
This caused Murphy to snap his head towards us and brushed away the long hair from his face; blue eyes boring into us. “One of our men?”
“Barry,” I said flatly. “Movie star looks. Although, I must say that was before.”
The twins shared a look before Murphy rose to his feet with a roar. “You killed him?”
I stood toe to toe with him, not showing him an ounce of fear because I knew guys like this could smell it.
“Never said I did,” I answered with a shrug.
“Imigh leat,” Murphy waved a hand in my face before turning on his feet to face the fireplace.
Connor let out a displeased noise at his brother before giving Jolly and me a tight smile, the lines in his face creasing. “You must ignore my brother, he just argued with his daughter before you arrived.”
Saoirse’s face crept into my mind but I did my best to push away those feelings. I couldn’t give away my feelings for her; the ones that stayed buried for so long.
“Again with this foolish dream of opening an animal rehab facility. Why she wants to work when she has all the money I can give her if she just stays here is beyond my thinking,” Murphy muttered after downing the rest of his drink, slamming the cup on the table next to the couch.
“About Barry,” Connor ignored his brother while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “If you did kill him, one less thing for us to worry about. He was a pain in our arses anyway.”
“So then, as a token, you’ll give us the direction we need to look into for our friend's death,” Jolly tried while scratching the facial hair on his chin.
With Connor’s silence, his gaze locked in on us with his hand on the holster on his hip, and Murphy’s back still to us, I nodded towards Jolly, who understood and we bid the brothers goodbye.
“Thank you for your time,” I said before ushering Jolly outside of the room before me.
Once we were back in the solitude of the hallway, we rushed back to the foyer with a burning feeling at the back of my neck. Something wasn’t right, their silence told us way too much and I needed to get far away from here.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Jolly noted.
I agreed with a low rumble in my chest, placing my hat back on. “I know. They were quick to dismiss us and I didn’t like how Connor reached for his gun.”
Hearing our footsteps echo loudly on the marble floor, Bryan glanced up from his phone with furrowed brows.
“That was quick.”
“We’ll discuss it in the car,” I said while ushering everyone outside quickly.
One by one we all piled out of the house and before I stepped through the threshold, I dared a glance back up to the stairs landing, hoping to catch sight of her but instead, I locked eyes with two large guards who had their guns in their grasp.
“Boss, this doesn't make sense,” Roger turned swiftly on his heels and blocked me.
“Roger, not now,” I said sternly. “Get to the car. Now.”
“All these rumors, they had to start somewhere,” he continued to ramble on.
I backhanded his chest and then threw a thumb over my shoulder to the men who were now descending the grand staircase. Finally, when Roger noticed them, he scrambled out the door, me swiftly following behind him.
All of us gathered around the SUV to discuss what our next plan of action would be. There were other Irish families I could talk with but they all had connections to the McManus brothers so they wouldn’t give me anything.
As I was chatting with Nicholas, Roger began pacing in front of the car, running a hand through his hair.
“What’s his problem?” Nicholas mumbled to me.
“He thinks the brothers are hiding something,” I informed him while shrugging. “I must admit, I feel the same. They were too closed off in there. And the way those guards were staring at me, I swore they were looking for a fight.”
“In retaliation for Barry?”
“Could be,” I ran a hand over my chin. “Or they don’t appreciate us showing up tonight. Either way, we need to get out of here.”
Everyone began loading into the SUV, besides Roger, who was still pacing.
“Roger, get in,” I demanded from behind the driver's door.
"They're a bunch of liars. all of them. I bet you that broad upstairs knows something.”
All I saw was read for a few moments before I realized that I had Roger pinned to the hood of the car by his throat, my tattooed fingers cutting off his oxygen. Strands of my hair fell into my eyes but I made no effort to let up my grip.
“Watch how you speak about her,” I spit out.
Roger’s eyes were white as he struggled to fight me, his nails digging into the skin of my wrist.
“Shit,” Ash muttered while scrambling out of the car to wrap his arms around my chest, trying to pull me away. “Let him go, Noah. You’re going to kill him.”
With an effortless grunt, I tossed Roger to the ground and did my best to fix my hair when Ash let me go as the front door of the manor opened; Saiorse walked out with the two guards following closely behind her.
She paid us no mind as she trotted down the steps and began walking the opposite way of us. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was 8 p.m.
“The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.” Barry’s words from earlier rang in my ears.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I grumbled while adjusting my jacket.
Roger quickly scrambled to his feet and when he finally noticed the two guards who had stopped walking to watch us with careful eyes, something switched in Roger’s mind. My jaw began to drop when I saw him reach for something underneath his shirt, my next words came out slow, almost inebriated.
“Roger, no!”
The sound of gunfire erupted, and all of us dropped to our knees around the car for some sort of protection. Bullets ricochet off of the car, one nearly missing my forehead as it blew the hat clear off my head. I strangled out a vacant cry while pressing my body closer to the car. My heart was beating widely in my chest and my hands shook but I didn’t have time to dwell on almost dying, I needed to stop this before it became worse than it already was.
“Mother fucker!”
Glancing over my shoulder, I cursed when I saw Folio go down to the ground clutching his thigh, his gun skidding halfway down the long driveway. I crawled over to him, keeping my head down when I noticed that a couple more McManus guards had emerged from inside and now we were outnumbered; seven to nine.
Blood oozed out from the wound on Folio’s thigh and I grabbed a handful of his shirt, ripping a large piece from it.
“You’re alright; just a flesh wound,” I reassured him while fixing the makeshift tourniquet.
“Where the hell did Roger find a gun?” Folio asked through clenched teeth when I squeezed too hard on his wound to stop the bleeding.
“I’m about to find out,” I patted his cheek before ripping my gun from behind my pants and clicked off the safety.
Using the open door of the SUV as a shield, I peered around it to see that four guards were lying dead on the ground, two were hiding behind the pillars of the manor for their own protection, and one was coming towards us.
Firing off two rounds, both hitting the mark of the guard's chest, I watched him crumble to the ground and then gave a sharp whistle towards Jolly who was firing his weapon in the car through the shot-out back windshield.
“Two on the porch!” I yelled over the sounds of gunfire.
Jolly nodded and I gave him protection against the other two guards who were firing their weapons from behind a bush, he snuck up to the two guards hiding on the porch, their lives ending before they even noticed him.
Now the numbers were in our favor so slowly rising to my feet, I stepped out from my shield and called out to the last two McManus guards.
“You’re not walking out of this alive!”
“Imeacht go fánach ort féin is ar do chnapán miúlach!” A deep voice rumbled out from behind the bus.
A flash of red caught my attention and I forgot for a moment that Saoirse was outside when the shootout began. I could hear my heart in my ears with worry if she’d been hit but when I saw her slowly rise to her feet due to one of the guards pushing her to farther safety, I breathed a little.
Until a gun went off to my left and with sharp eyes, I watched as the bullet hit Saoirse in the arm, blood splattering against the fading white paint of the house.
“Bitch! That’s for Vincent!” Roger bellowed his victory.
I let out a vicious growl as I tackled him to the ground, laying fist after fist into his face. Poor kid never saw me coming and gave no fight against me. By the time I finished, my knuckles were broken and raw, covered in not only my blood but his as well. Roger’s face was a mangled mess as he rolled over to his side, spitting out chunks of spit mixed with blood. For a final measure, I laid a swift kick to his stomach making sure he wouldn’t get up for a while. Through the white noise in my brain, I did my best to calm my breathing when I gazed over my shoulder to the carnage that lay in our wake; all thanks to Roger’s trigger finger.
Besides Folio, all of my men were unharmed and it seemed as if Folio would be fine. However, out of nine McManus guards, only two remain. One held something to Saoirse’s arm while the other tossed his gun to the ground, showing us he surrendered.
“Is she alright?” I called out to them.
“Fuck you, Noah!” She spat, eyes almost as red with fury as the color of her hair.
Yeah, she was fine.
Through the eerie silence of the night air, I watched as the front door carefully opened then both the McManus brothers stepped into the carnage.
“Saoirse!” Murphy’s voice boomed.
“She’s over here!” The one guard who was tending to her wound called out while pulling them out from behind the bushes.
I sucked in a breath when I saw all the blood staining the gray long sleeve of her sweater as the guard quickly whisked her inside, her father right on her tail. The look of pure hatred was on Connor’s face as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Whose bullet hit my niece?” He asked.
I pointed to the broken body of Roger, who was still struggling to rise to his feet. “I’ll take care of him, I promise you.”
Conner gave a curt nod before hooking his finger in my direction. “You. By yourself. Now.”
Licking my lips, I nodded and handed over my gun to Ash, who looked at me with bewilderment in his eyes.
“Are you insane?” He demanded. “You can’t go in there by yourself.”
“If they wanted me dead, I would be,” I said with more reassurance in my voice than I was feeling.
Giving a soft smile to the rest of my men, letting them know I’d be fine, I stepped back inside the manor with Conner close behind.
SCARLETT
“What the fuck!” I screamed while pushing myself away from the table, but hissing as pain shot through my arm.
The doctor we had on standby informed me that it was merely a flesh wound I suffered and closed it up with a few stitches and some pills for the pain.
“Watch your tongue,” my father warned while not looking away from his plate of food.
“You just told me that I’m supposed to marry Noah Sebastian! How the fuck can I watch my tongue?! This is absurd! You can’t make that decision for me.”
He pushed away his plate with a sigh and then steepled his fingers together. “I can because I am your father. And for the price of peace, I couldn’t deny his offer.”
I nearly fell back into my seat at the dining room table. “His offer? This was his idea?”
My Uncle Conner nodded. “That man is quite the negotiator. He didn’t want any more bloodshed and for a truce, he asked for your hand in marriage; we agreed on one condition.”
“Oh, I can't wait to hear what this condition was,” I placed my hand on my hip. “Does he want a baby in a year? Do I have to abide by his command? Am I to be locked away in a castle for the rest of my life?”
“Far from that,” my father lit his cigar, puffing the smoke into the air. “We agreed that you can marry him as long as he kill the man that shot you.”
My eyes widened. “The kid? Fucking hell, dad! He can’t be more than twenty years old!”
“Then he shouldn’t have been involved in a game that was designed for men!” My father’s fist slammed on the aged oak of the table.
I didn’t even flinch, being so used to his outbursts like this. Instead, I fought back harder against this offer.
“What about Cory?” I questioned.
“Who?” My father’s thick brows furrowed as the age lines in his forehead creased.
“The boyfriend,” my uncle informed him while swirling the ice cubes around in his cup.
My father did a double take. “How the fuck do you know?”
“Fuck you, I know shit,” he shrugged.
“Very well,” my father sighed. “It’s not like this relationship would have worked out anyway. You will end it and move in with Noah by Friday.”
“FRIDAY?!” I screeched. “That’s in two days!”
“The wedding will be at the end of the month,” my uncle informed me.
Too much information had been thrown at me all at once and I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep myself from crying. I typically wasn’t a crier but from the moment I laid my eyes on Noah Sebastian in the foyer of my home, all of my old feelings came rushing in like a tidal wave and I still didn’t have time to process that.
“If I say no to this deal?” I shot back.
Neither my uncle nor father said anything, simply motioned to the guns that lay next to their plates. Now, I knew they didn’t mean they would kill me. Instead, they would kill Noah and every last mother fucker who had anything to do with tonight.
“This is unbelievable!” I yelled while throwing my hands up and storming my way up the stairs to my bedroom.
The sound of my door slamming shook the old bones of the manor and I yanked the ends of my hair with a scream. I despised not only this life but also the fact that I couldn’t do anything about this arrangement. Not when the lives of innocents were on the line.
Innocents? They shot you!
Shaking the thought from my mind, I fell back onto my bed with a groan. It was easy to tell that the kid was the one that started the unnecessary gunfight. Noah was only doing what he could to protect his people.
Those gorgeous almond eyes haunted me for years, plaguing my entire existence since I first saw them freshman year of high school. I never could do anything about it, however, knowing that we ran in different circles and it was forbidden. His family ran the slums while mine ran the prestige wealth.
The last I saw of Noah or any of those guys was the night of high school graduation. While Noah dropped out three months before, the rest of his friends walked across the stage and he was there for support. Our eyes locked across the vast space of the room. His hair was long but pulled back into a high bun, showcasing the sharpness of his cheekbones as he gave me a gentle smile. Of course, I had to ignore the pull of my heart strings, no matter how strong they were.
If someone had told a teenage me that now, eight years later, I’d be marrying that man who captured my heart so long ago, I’d laugh in their face.
Running a hand over my face, I sat up in bed and quickly dialed Cory’s number so I could deliver the news. On the eighth ring, he answered almost breathlessly.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” I played with the ends of my hair. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
There was some rustling on his end before his breath came through. “I suppose.”
Ignoring the tone, I took a deep inhale to prepare myself for breaking the news to him. “There’s no easy way to say this. But my father just informed me that he arranged a marriage for me. I have to move in with the guy on Friday. I tried to fight it, tried to fight for us, but I didn’t have a choice. It’s something I have to do.”
There was a very long beat of silence on Cory’s end before his voice broke through. “Ok. Thanks for letting me know.”
My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach. “W-what? That’s it?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Scarlett? You said it yourself, you don’t have a choice in this. Why fight for something that has no end in sight?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to not snap at him but eventually failed.
“You know, you’re right. What’s the fucking point,” I seethed.
Before I could hang up on him, I heard the click and stared down in disbelief at my now black screen.
“What a piece of shit!” I bellowed while tossing my phone onto my bed.
My knee bounced in anger, that conversation adding more fuel to the fire, and as much as I wanted to scream out my frustrations I knew that it would be futile. Instead, I dragged my feet into the large walk-in closet and began packing up things that I knew I would need in my new life.
NOAH
Wiping away the blood from my rings, I stepped into the lobby of the quiet tattoo shop and noticed Nicholas closing up his section.
“How’d it go tonight?” I wondered after tossing the rag into the bag he had opened.
The one we planned on burning anyway so any evidence would be gone in the flames.
“Slow night but those aren’t bad every once in a while,” he answered before motioning to the door I previously walked through. “All finished?”
“Yeah, Jolly and Folio are cleaning it up. This one was messier than I would have liked. I’ll admit, the kid put up a hell of a fight,” I said while leaning against the wall with crossed arms.
The tattooed muscles in my forearms flexed.
“Did he say where he found the gun?”
“Bought it off of someone on the street before we left that night. Apparently, he had a feeling I wouldn’t allow him to have one and he felt like he needed protection,” I informed Nicholas.
Who, in turn, snorted while packing up his tattoo gun. “A lot of good it did.”
My lips parted to speak but with the sound of the bell dinging above the door, revealing that someone had stepped inside.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” the words died in my throat when I saw who walked inside.
Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her green eyes standing out amongst everything else about her. She carried two suitcases behind her and one large duffel bag on her shoulder.
“Hi,” I said while standing straight up.
All of the breath inside of me left me with a whoosh of air as the excitement of our arrangement finally filled me. When I first brought up the idea to the McManus brothers, I fully expected them to deny it. Much to my surprise, they agreed almost immediately with the exception that I take care of Roger, as promised.
Not even an hour after sending the picture to Murphy, his daughter was standing in front of me; bags in tow.
“Hi?” Saoirse scowled. “Do you know what the fuck I had to go through to get here? The number of times I had to circle the building to find somewhere to park? Two blocks away. Not to mention, how many homeless people stopped me along the way to ask for either money or drugs? And all you can say is hi?”
Biting my lip at my smile, I walked over to the receptionist's desk to rest my elbows on it.
“Are you finished?” I teased with a playful gleam in my eyes.
She scoffed, appalled. “Am I finished? No, Noah. Far fucking from it. How dare you bid for my life without my consent? This isn’t the 1900’s where this was a common thing! I have a say in who I should marry!”
“Then why are you here?”
Saoirse pursed her lips and when I realized she had nothing to say back, I pushed off the counter to close the distance between us, my height towering over her.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t pay for you. I don’t plan on holding you prisoner here. You have a say with anything and everything however to keep the peace from stumbling into my empire, if I had to arrange for your life, you bet your fucking ass I would do.”
Her lips mimicked a fish and when her shoulders slumped in defeat, I held out my hand to her. “Keys.”
“Excuse me?” She raised a brow.
“Give me your keys. OMNS Legacy Villas has underground parking. There’s already a reserved spot for you,” I informed her.
Shoving the keys in my hand, she sliced her eyes into me. “If it says Saoirse, change it.”
I quickly tossed the keys to Nicholas, who understood and slipped out of the shop to retrieve her car.
“Change it?” I repeated her words.
“The only people who call me that are my father and uncle. Everyone else calls me Scarlett,” she tossed her bags on the ground at my feet before crossing her arms over her black sweater.
This sass that fell from her blood-stained lips made me want to toss her onto the counter, rip off that sweater, and attack every inch of her skin with my teeth but I refrained. Instead, I brushed a hand through my hair and smiled.
“Scarlett it is.”
Scarlett glanced out the large window in front of the shop, watching as people walked past, every single one of them dealing with something in their own lives. The trash that littered the street was figuratively and literally. I had to admit that when I first opened up my empire here, the slums were extremely bad but with my help and funding, the streets had been cleaned up immensely; with a few stranglers still lurking around.
Especially in the underground.
“I don’t understand how you live here. The homeless, the drug deals, and the illegal activities I saw walking in here. It’s disgusting,” she shivered.
I stood next to her now, stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my pants. “Welcome to the Concrete Jungle, Scarlett.”
She turned her head up to me as I bent low towards her, my warm breath fanning those beautiful lips. “Where I’m the fucking king.”
#noah sebastian#bad omens#noah sebastian x ofc#mafiaboss!noah sebastian#tattooartist!noah sebastian#the coyotes cry noah sebastian#noah sebastian fan fictions
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don't fear the reaper |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 7
prompt: your introduction to eddie's ex-wife goes less than ideal.
age gap. reader is 26, Eddie is 42. everything is consensual. if you don't like it, don't read plz.
contains: language, dilf!eddie, older!eddie, age gap, angst, gina is Eddie's ex wife and she's really mean :(
"Can you get that, sweet thing?" Eddie asks, screwdriver in hand, hunched over the little set of drawers that he was assembling, tongue poked out in concentration.
You'd been happily watching him build all morning, a warm and light feeling buzzing through your body. You grinned cheekily to yourself when Eddie slipped on a pair of reading glasses before he had started. He looked over them at you, peering over the black frames with an exaggerated stare, pointing a warning finger playfully in your direction.
"Not a word. Understand, missy?" His tone was stern, playful, pulling a string of giggles from your chest. Your cheeks flush at his tone, tipping your head to the side to admire him. The way the veins in his hand protruded when he tightened something with the screwdriver, his tongue poking out in concentration.
Eddie had just established the base of the drawers when there was a knock at the door. You stood, setting down your mug on the coffee table. "Should be Brielle. She's always forgettin' her key." Eddie sighed, a firm eye roll.
You opened the door, ready to see the girl who resembled your boyfriend so much- same eyes, dimples, cheeks. She'd been at her mom's all weekend, and you were happy to have her back, now that things were better with you two. You smiled widely, eyes lighting up, a welcome on the tip of your tongue.
Instead, you were greeted with a pair of piercing eyes, narrowed at you from the moment you opened the door, unfamiliar and challenging.
You blinked, looking at the woman in front of you, jarred and a little frightened. You knew her, how could you not? Gina, Eddie's ex-wife, Brielle's mother. You’d seen the photos- maybe, done a stalk on Facebook with your best friend.
Gina's lips twisted, a scoff falling from them that had you stepping back in the doorway. "I'll be goddammed." She said every word slowly, dripped in venom. Your heart hammered, eyes wide, caught, scared.
Brielle squirmed, eyes sympathetically meeting yours. She was uncomfortable, intimidated too, though you weren’t really sure why. "Mom, I'm here now. You can go back in the car-"
"Nuh-uh." Gina snapped, eyes never leaving yours. You felt exposed under her gaze, vulnerable, wrapping your arms around your middle protectively. "I wanna meet the new girl your dad has you hangin' around. Make sure she's not being a bad influence on my baby." Her words were nearly mocking, your hand gripping the door in a white knuckled grasp.
Eddie's heavy footsteps appeared behind you, shoulders falling when he saw Gina. "For fuckssake, Gina..." He sighed, annoyed, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Well, hello to you, too, Edward." Gina spat the name like it was a bad taste in her mouth, lips curling into a snarl. Her teeth barred, like a predator to prey- amused. This was a game to her. One she was very good at, apparently.
"The fuck are you doin', huh?" Eddie threw his arm out, looking down at Gina, standing at his full height. "You don't have better things to do?"
Gina laughed, humorless, eyes rolling. "Not when it comes to our child." Gina snapped. She paused, lips pursing, icy eyes sliding over your frame, sending shivers down your spine. "Sorry, I guess I should say our daughter, looks like you have another child in your life."
Your heart dropped, stammering lightly. Gina gave you a smug, challenging look. Brielle looked down, shifting on her feet. "Mom, can you stop? It's embarrassing-"
"Oh, I'm embarrassing?" Gina snapped, looking at her daughter. Brielle recoiled slightly, shrinking under her gaze. "But your father prancing around with jail bait isn't-"
"Alright, Gina, that's enough." Eddie growled, stepping in front of you. They glared at each other, so angry, full of hatred. "You wanna say some shit to me? Fine, but leave her out of this. And have some decency to not do this in front of Brie." He bit, glaring down the slope of his nose at her.
Gina gasped, loud and accusatory. "Don't you dare, Eddie, don't you even fuckin' dare." She pointed a long, manicured nail at him, jabbing it at him. "Don't pull the bad mom card on me when you're dating someone the same age as Brielle!"
"She is not the same age, Gina, what the fuck-"
"Sweetheart," Gina turned to you, the pet name Eddie usually adorned to you was covered in malice, making your blood run cold. "How old are you?" She mocked you, spoke to you like you were a child- like you spoke to your kids at school.
"Twenty-s-six." You stammered dumbly, heart pounding in your ears. It was nine in the morning, you weren't exactly prepared to be berated and harassed like this, this early.
Gina's lips pressed together, eyebrows shooting up. She scoffed, loud and derisive. "Twenty-six?" She repeated, each syllable rolling off her tongue furiously, looking at Eddie with a glare so cold it made you shiver.
"So, when I had Brielle, you were what? Nine, ten?" She laughed, but she wasn't amused. It was a mean girl mocking laugh, one that took you back to days in middle school in the locker room at gym. "And Eddie, what were you doing then? Twenty-six years ago? Oh, that's right, you were still selling weed to high-school kids to support the baby-"
"Gina, I'm not doing this shit with you." Eddie seethed, jaw set and eyes hard. He glared at her, eyes flicking over to Brielle, who shrunk into herself, eyes on the steps. You could see the guilt wash over Eddie, jaw ticking and eyes softening. "Get in here, baby girl. I'll be just a second." He guided Brielle in, hand protectively on the back of her head, giving you a small nod before shutting the door.
You and Brielle stood in the doorway, not moving, eyes glued on the wooden door. Your heart was hammering in your throat, stopping and speeding when you would hear the muffled words and screams from the other side. A rollercoaster of emotions, tummy dropping and turning, twisting and seeking further and further into your nerves.
"She's a fuckin' child, Ed!"
"Gina, are you out of your fuckin' mind? She's an adult, a teacher. A really great teacher-"
"Probably because she's the same age as them! They have so much in common!"
"Oh, fuck off, Gina. Aren't you married? Why the fuck do you care?"
"I don't want someone like that around my daughter! What kind of example is this? Whoring herself with some old guy!"
"She is not-"
"-How would you feel if Brie was doing this, huh? Fucking around with a guy twice her age?"
Your stomach dropped when Eddie didn't reply. You felt the color drain, feeling sick to your stomach. Brielle looked at you carefully, fingers twisting around her overnight bag, wringing them nervously.
"That's what I thought." Gina's voice was firm, smug. "I don't know what you're going through, Eddie, but this is a lot. Even for you."
"Get the fuck outta my house, Gina." Eddie growled, heavy footsteps moving towards the door. You could hear her muffled, biting response, mean and biting even through the door.
You stepped back just as Eddie threw the door open, eyes furious and blazing. He ran a hand over his scruff, free hand balled by his side. He looked at you, eyes drooping gently- tired, defeated.
"'M gonna go outside." Eddie growled, stomping towards the back door. "Need a minute." His hand ran over Brie’s shoulder, comfortingly- an apology.
You flinched when Eddie slammed the door, shaking the house. Brielle looked at you, eyes wide and cautious, embarrassed. "They... They do this all the time." She offered softly. You didn't reply, eyes still glued on the back door.
"I'm sorry..." Brielle said softly. You looked over at her. "For what my mom said." She added, rubbing her arms awkwardly. "She can be like that sometimes. Don't take it personally."
You nodded, tongue feeling thick and constricted in your mouth.
Brielle hesitated, looking from you back to the window where a stream of smoke could be seen. Eddie. She lifted her bag gently, moving down the hall to her room. You didn't move, you couldn't.
Gina's words hurt you. It made your head rattle with insecurities and racing thoughts, self doubt and humbled truths. Eddie's reaction- or lack thereof- to her final accusation had your stomach twisting, knotting. Why did it hurt you so bad? Was Eddie embarrassed of you?
Eddie came in from the backdoor, shoulders still tense but eyes softened, nicotine induced relaxation. "I'm sorry about that, bunny. She can be a real-" Eddie stopped, looking at you in the doorway.
You didn't move, stilling even at his voice, zoned on the wall in front of you. Eddie called your name softly, hands raised in a slow approach, like you were a frightened animal that might scatter. His brows furrowed, lips pulling into a soft frown.
Your eyes met his, lip trembling gently. Eddie's face softened. "Baby, what's wrong?" He cooed, stepping towards you so he could rub his hands down your arms. "Don't let her upset you, ok? She just said all of that because wants you to be upset-"
"You didn't answer her." Your eyes flashed at him. His forehead creased in confusion. "When she said that about Brie, you didn't reply."
Eddie exhaled, tired, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, because I'm not arguing with her. It's pointless." He huffed. "All it does is make my blood pressure go up, and she just starts saying crazy shit. She thrives off that kinda attention, and it just gets worse when you give it to her. Trust me, baby." He muttered, eyes pinching shut at the thought. This was routine, a painful routine he was far too used to.
You huffed, crossing your arms, stepping out of his grasp, anger bristling in your chest. "You answered her every other time, Ed." You bit, jaw clenching to keep your tears from falling.
Eddie threw his hands up. "What do you want me to say here? I wasn't gettin' into that with her-"
"Because you think she's right." You challenged him, brows raised in suspicion. "You think there's something wrong with this? With us?"
"No, fuck," Eddie growled, vein in his neck protruding, angry and prominent against his flushed skin. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us, ok? I wouldn't be doin' this if I did-"
"Then why didn't you say anything?" You shrieked, throwing your hands out. "You made it look like you thought that!" Your heart hammered in your chest, defensive and angry.
Eddie's eyes bulged, head jutting forward. "Why? I wasn't lettin' her use my daughter against me like that ok? It's fucked up, and she knows what she's doin'! She knows it'll piss me off, and I'll fight with her the way she wants, and I'm not doin' that!" He boomed, voice bouncing off the walls, echoing into your ears.
Your eyes cut down the hall towards Brielle's room. Eddie huffed, shaking his head. You stood in silence, Eddie shaking his head, exhaling a short huff of air.
"I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry I didn't say anything to her, I just-" Eddie stopped himself. "I was done. Done letting her say shit to you, to me, and she always drags Brie into the middle of it to try and make me feel bad or-or fight with her more."
You looked down at your feet. "I'm sorry." You muttered.
Eddie shook his head. "You don't have nothin' to be sorry for-"
"No, I'm sorry." You said sincerely, eyes lifting to him. "I'm sorry she does that to you. 'S not right."
Eddie's face softened, lines smoothing when you grabbed his hand, holding it gently, pressing kisses into his palm. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us. I was just scared...you did."
Eddie gave a lopsided smile, pulling you into him by your waist. "Nuh-uh," Eddie smirked, lips moving to your cheek, soft feathery kisses pressing against your skin.
"Just like a pretty little thing like you to keep me young." He teased, large hands giving your ass a firm squeeze, smiling as you squealed into his ear. "Nothin' wrong with that."
You smiled, moving his curly tendrils out of his face. He kissed you fully, lips sliding over yours in a passionate kiss that had your cheeks heating. "Don't listen to her, alright?" Eddie muttered against your lips.
You nod, looking over your shoulder, face falling when you look at Brielle's door. Eddie followed your gaze, shoulders dropping. "Was she upset?" He asked.
You shrugged lightly. "She said she did it all the time... Apologized to me for what she said." You muttered.
Eddie cringed gently, air exhaling out his mouth in a loud sigh. "'M just gonna go check on her." He said, eyes softening to look at you. "See where the hell she wants these drawers too." He huffed, motioning to the unfinished project in the living room.
You grinned, smacking his ass playfully in his sweatpants. "Go check on her." You teased, winking at him.Eddie raised his brows, grinning before pointing at you. "You better watch yourself, little girl." He purred, smirking at your blistering flush.
#oneforthemunny#munnytalks#eddie munson#funsonmunson#eddie munson au#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader angst#eddie munson x reader angst#eddie munson angst#older!dilf!eddie munson#older!eddie#older!eddie munson#older!dilf!eddie#older!eddie munson x reader#dilf!eddie munson x reader#dilf!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#divorced!Eddie munson
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I’m just gonna toss this idea out here because it’s been sitting in my head for too long.
The idea of a marriage pact with Eddie, where if you’re both single by the time you’re 25(because to an 11 year old 25 is old as shit) you two will get married and live happily ever after. Like Eddie went as far as getting you a little plastic ring and said “I’m sure when I’m older I can get you a better one but here, take this for now.” and you did, you happily took the cheap plastic ring and put it on your finger and eventually it found its way around your neck on a chain that also housed one of Eddie’s guitar picks. But that was when you two used to do everything together, before you found yourself packing up your truck a few days after graduation with a hopeful smile as your best friend hugged you goodbye and mumbled something about not forgetting him into the crook of your neck.
You never forgot him, making weekly phone calls and letters keeping each other updated on your lives. He knew about every important event and every heartbreak while you got the inside scoop on all his D&D campaigns and how his band was doing. He knew by the tone of your voice if you were in a good or bad mood while you knew if he sighed as soon as he got on the phone that he call was going to be short due to him being exhausted from the day. The two of you never lost touch, instead you grew closer and feelings started to develop, at least for you.
You still have the silver chain around your neck, the plastic ring a little worse for wear along with Eddie’s guitar pick hidden under your shirt, as you pull into your old driveway. You’re back in Hawkins just in time for your 25th birthday next week. You smile as you close the door to your car and look around, it’s like nothings changed as you spot a familiar head of brown curls leaving the trailer across the street.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You’d know that groan anywhere, having been on the receiving end of that very same sentence a few times over the course of your friendship. You quickly made your way across the street as Eddie popped the hood to his beloved van.
“Told you this thing would be a bigger headache than it’s worth.” You watched Eddie’s whole body freeze as you approached him, his back facing you. You felt like time was moving in slow motion as the screwdriver fell from Eddie’s hand as he turned so he was facing you. His eyes roamed your body as if he wasn’t sure if it was really you or not but when his eyes locked with yours all you could focus on was the smile that took over his face and how much you’d missed it.
“Am I dreaming?” He asked as he took a small step towards you, the smile never leaving his face.
“Do you often dream about your van?” You teased as you took a step closer to him, he laughed and you realized how much you missed hearing that sound in person, hearing it over the phone all these years didn’t do it justice. “Actually don’t answer that.” Eddie just shook his head as he closed the distance between the two of you, allowing there to be a small gap between your two bodies.
“I’ve missed you.” Was all he said before his arms wrapped around your shoulders pulling you into his chest. You instantly relaxed in his hold as your arms snaked around his middle giving him a little squeeze as if to check that he really was here in your arms. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what the hell are you doing back here?” He asked as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes with a raised eyebrow, because once people left Hawkins it wasn’t often they voluntarily came back.
“Well it’s my birthday next week and I was missing home so figured it was the perfect excuse to come for a visit.” You answered as you grabbed at your necklace with one of your hands. Eddie’s eyes followed your hand as you mindlessly messed with the plastic ring and guitar pick hanging off the chain.
“Uh you know I could get you a better one if you want.” You looked at him confused as he removed his arms from around your shoulders. But you felt your heart begin to beat faster as one of his fingers came and messed with the plastic ring.
“Why would I want a better one? This is the pick you played master of puppets with for the very first time.” You knew he didn’t mean the guitar pick but you just wanted to see the smirk on his face as you spoke.
“Okay so the pick is fine but,” You felt him drop your necklace as his thumb pressed to the bottom of your chin so you’d look up at him. If you weren’t used to the Munson charm the look in his eyes would’ve been enough to make you weak in the knees, but lucky for you this wasn’t your first time experiencing this type of look from Eddie. “I’m more worried about the ring.” You reached up and pushed a few wild strands of his hair out of his face making him lean into your touch.
“Well I would like one that at least fits my finger.” You shrug as Eddie smiles as your hand rests on the side of his face.
“I have what?” He looked at his watch and then back to you with a smile. “Four more days to make that happen.” He leans down as your hand moves from the side of his face to rest on his shoulder.
“Think you’re up for it?” He knows what you’re really asking and he just lets out a chuckle as his lips press a kiss to your cheek.
“I was ready to marry you when I was eleven sweetheart.” He answers before kissing the tip of your nose making you giggle. “I’m more than up for it.” And with that his lips are on yours in a kiss that’s been years in the making as your arms slide around his neck and his hands drop to your waist.
#don’t ask where this came from i have no fucking clue lol#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson concept#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fic#Eddie Munson#stranger things fanfiction#my little dungeon master baby
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Connor and Gavin Besties Dynamic would include
Connor trying to be the one above the call-outs and banter that Gavin throws at him in the workplace, for the sake of professionalism
but the second he's off the clock it is ON
Connor also being petty at work in retaliation
they have the dynamic of that one tiktok where this guy is cooking fried chicken in the bathroom as he's taking a shower so that his friend wouldn't steal it, and then his friend breaks in with a screwdriver and and still steals it.
Gavin would take a picture of Hank's living room and use it as his background during FaceTime calls
"Hey... hey Connor come here, i need to tell you something."
"I don't trust you."
"No seriously, I promise I'm not gonna do anything it's for the case."
"......Fine... what is it?"
*burps in his face*
"....... I swear to-"
Connor gets one of those ice cream quart padlocks and locks Gavin's ice cream at the precinct
Gavin just saws off the bottom of the container and eats it like that out of spite.
* Connor and Gavin at a bar*
Gavin: you better step down, son, taking this whole thing too far. Hold me back, Connor. I'm serious, hold me back, Connor! I'm seRIOUS HOLD ME BAC-......... why aren't you holding me back?
"Excuse me, Gavin but i have those reports for the Carey case right here for you on my desk."
"I ain't falling for my own joke, tin can."
"No, I am serious. And even if i was trying to pull the same joke, i am incapable of eructation."
"Oh... well okay the-"
T̶̝̳̍͛͜H̷̨̻͕̪̣͗Ę̵̬͔̬̹̄͜ ̵͙̫͇̰̺̗̈́̎̍̅̕F̷̧̼̟̪̱͕̑Į̶̟̖̠̮̈́́Ţ̵̲̯̤̪̄̄N̴̳̍Ẹ̷̅̈́̌̉̊̚͜S̸̨̰͔̿̄̀̿͝S̶̲̳̲̑̌̔ ̸̮̓̇G̵̪͖̥̖̯̈͌̐̿Ṝ̷A̴̧̢͂̊̏̾M̵̟̥̹̥̝̖͒ ̴̧̩̯̿̽͑P̶̮̪̿̌̈̽̋̀Á̸͇̭̈́C̸̩̠̀̇͛͠Ẹ̷̪̱͇̼͊R̶̥̦̫͑́̓̅͗̈́ ̶̩͍͍͓̞̔͌̋̎̓̈́T̸̛̬̟͐̀͛̈́̈Ę̴̜̟̜̹̿̿͗S̵̛̩̝̩͗͊͆̄͛ͅͅT̷͚͒ ̴̗͌ͅI̶͖͒̓́̏S̷̤̞̻̟̅̂̄̎ ̴̨̉̾̐̀͛͋Á̸̝̫̋͑͠ ̷̨̘̠̦͕̅M̶̜̬͍̼̗̬͗̏̊̈͝U̸̫̯̩̬͛͝Ĺ̵̜̼̜̦̀̇̆̕͘T̶͔͉͗̈́Ḯ̴͙S̴̯͙̣͓̫̀̈͜Ṯ̷͎̥͓̌͐̎͑Ą̴̳̖̓͆̀̄̀͜G̷̻̯͎͒̑̉̓E̴̗̭̒ ̷̡̺̮͚̞́̽̈́̈́̕A̴̠̝̿͒͂̕ͅĘ̴̠̮͌̐̒R̷̠̼̙̉̒O̸̼͍͗̈́͗̃̃B̵͍͈̪͖͎̔̓̅̇͘͘I̷̝͉̪̍̔C̸̖̘͙̆͗ ̴̣͉̝̳͖͋͜͝Ç̵̨̹͗A̵͉̺̟͇͠ͅP̷̪͕͔̱͙̬̓̄A̶̟͖̯̹͎̒̎C̵͔̮͍͗̂̌͊̿͝Ī̵̤́͊͆̀͊T̷̙͉͖̙͜͝ͅŸ̴̖͈͚̜͓̱́̾ ̷̘͆̂̄͗͝T̶̻̿Ę̷̢̬̔̒S̷͔͙̹̪̉͑̃͌̀Ṭ̵̓̏̅̉-"
Gavin: god I fucking hate that guy, he's such a prick
Coworker: why don't you just stop being friends with him then?
Gavin: FUCK NO! He's already agreed to be my Best Man
*Connor working silently and diligently*
*notices Gavin staring at him from across the bullpen*
"..... what?"
"You're ass is grass and I'm gonna mow it."
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Gavin punching in the teeth of xenophobes. Or at the very least cussing them out because no, Gavin, you already have enough write-ups and complaints as it is, you gotta stop it. Yes, i appreciate the intentions, but the means are getting you in trouble.
Old Cop Acquaintance: Last time we hung out you hated androids. You've gotten soft.
Gavin: No, i've gotten hard. Because he's my best friend, he's my pal. My homeboy, my rotten soldier; my sweet cheese, my good time boy
the newer cops in the precinct start spreading a rumor that Gavin and Connor are dating, and when Connor brings it up with Gavin to see if he wants to do anything to dispel the rumors he just says "If you don't have rumors going around that you and your best friend are dating, then you aren't real best friends."
that's basically how Connor realizes that he has a best friend for the first time.
Gavin: Connor, would you ever bail me out of jail?
Connor: Bold of you to assume I'm not in jail with you
Gavin: bro
Connor: Nines would be the one to bail us out of jail.
Gavin: aw fuck, no, come on! Nines would give us the Look of Disappointment
Connor: Better than the Dad of Disapproval
Gavin: fair point
Tactical Training Day is full of chaos because Gavin makes a bet that he'll do better and while Connor doesn't outright agree to it, you can tell he's playing along because he's putting more effort into the simulations than normal.
Gavin: Okay, run it by me one more time. What do you do if i get shot in the field?
Connor: well, I was programmed to immediately get you clear of the line of fire and then provide medical assistance until back-up or an ALS unit arrives.
Gavin: but?
Connor: ...but you've asked me to cry out "MMMMMM WHATCHA SAAYYY!" and then proceed with my protocols.
Gavin: exACTLY
#dbh#detroit become human#connor rk800#gavin reed#do not tag as ship#they're besties here#gavin and connor bestie supremacy#im here for it#will add more later
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Every once in a while I’ll remember how Casey Jr greeted sweetums like an old friend or someone similar, and now I’m just wondering if sweetums was an uncle/auntie figure to him, and if he’s ever told anyone else about how they (probably) would have been married to donnie
*looks at the snippet i just traumatized my kofi supporters with and looks back*
well, uh
you see
.....
it's been a long hiatus, might as well just show y'all (BLAME @raccoon-robyn FOR THIS. MINOR SPOILERS FOR THE BAD FUTURE REVEAL)
--
“I presume your night with Cassandra went well,” Donnie said, elbows deep in another SHELLDON drone. A few years ago it would’ve been unheard of to retrieve them after the Kraang shot them down. Nowadays, the Rebellion was scrounging for parts anywhere they could get them.
You squinted at him and handed him a 5/16th’s wrench, “We were on lookout, Dee-dee, it’s not like we were off to the Bahamas.”
Donnie rolled his eyes and took the wrench from you, “I didn’t know that lookout entailed making out against the walls of the compound.”
You paused, taking in Donnie’s body language. Everything about him read neutral, but you knew him better than that. He was your best friend for Christ’s sake. You knew all of his tells. Everything from the set of his jaw to the way he gripped the wrench told you what you needed to know about that statement.
“I don’t see how it's any of your business,” you replied coolly.
“You’re threatening the safety–”
“That’s not what you’re mad about and you know it,” you cut him off, “And I thought we agreed to stop having this conversation.”
Donnie huffed at you, “I am your commander, it is my duty to know when you are off task.”
“Fifteen minute breaks are mandatory for late night surveillance,” you argued, “You’re the one that put that policy in place.”
“You are expected to stay vigilant at all times, regardless of being on a break.”
“You just wish it was you pressing me against the wall,” you said flatly. You stared Donnie in the eyes, not faltering once while you took his wrench and exchanged it for a flathead screwdriver. Even while fighting, the two of you were never any less in sync.
The both of you had been… fighting a lot more recently.
“That’s not even remotely related to this conversation,” Donnie said, tearing his eyes from yours. You didn’t miss the blush peeking out under his mask, despite how nonchalant he was acting.
“That is the conversation, Donatello,” you said, running your hand through your hair. They came out dirtier than they started with how saturated your hair was with grease and motor oil, “You said you didn’t love me, I’m trying to move the fuck on.”
“That’s not–” Donnie cut himself off with a groan, pulling his arms out of the machinery. He breathed in deeply, moving his hands to his sides, “That’s not what I said.”
“Remind me, then,” you said as you crossed your arms in between you, “Remind me about all the responsibilities and tasks and the goddamn rebellion that has to come first. Remind me how your big-headed importance keeps you from being with me.”
“Because it does! This, all of this–” Donnie gestured to the shop around you, filled to the brim with machinery and future projects the two of you only hoped to have the parts for, “is bigger than us, sweetums. I don’t see how–”
“Do not ‘sweetums’ me right now, Don,” you cut him off. You balled your hands up into fists and sighed, “I don’t… understand why you’re so dead set on making yourself a martyr, but that doesn’t mean I have to be, too.”
“I’m not–” Donnie cut himself off with a growl, gripping the inner edge of the drone’s plating. Once, when you were younger, Donnie had crushed a sheet of titanium with his bare hands just to win a bet against you. You wondered if the drone would bear the same marks after you and Donnie were done fighting.
The two of you stood there in silence, glowering at each other with matching expressions.
In the decade and a half that you and Donnie had worked together, you had only lost a stand-off twice. The two of you had enough stubbornness for the entire resistance, but your will to be a shit just barely surpassed Donnie’s.
As per usual, Donnie broke first.
Not as per usual, you saw tears start to form at the corners of Donnie’s eyes.
“I can’t,” Donnie croaked out.
The small victory you won was quickly pushed out of mind when you realized how close he was to tears. You felt yourself soften then, immediately reaching out to grab Donnie up into your arms. Your hands fisted into his dirty tank top and you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to squash the guilt of your chest.
There was too much to cry about, these days. You didn’t want to be one of Donnie’s reasons.
“I can’t,” he repeated, letting out a shaky sigh as he tugged you close to his plastron, “If I… let myself love you, then everything else be fucking damned.”
“Dee…”
“If I let myself love you and something happened to you? I would tear the whole world apart to get you back,” Donnie said, his hands grabbing at the back of your shirt in a desperate act to hold onto you tighter. The teenage Donatello you first met would barely high-five you. The Donnie you had in your arms now held you like his life depended on it, “But I can’t. I have my brothers, the entire damn resistance counting on me. I don’t– I can’t afford to have you.”
“I know, Don, I know,” you said, squeezing him within your arms, “I’m being a dick about this.”
Donnie sighed, “It doesn’t mean it’s any easier to see you with someone else, though.”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you it was a one-time thing?” you asked, “Cass and I talked this morning, we agreed that it wouldn’t happen again.”
“Then why did you do it?” Donnie asked, the hurt still evident in his voice.
You’d allow that, you decided.
You shrugged against him, feeling shy now, “She was there, I guess. Cas is a fucking smokeshow, don’t get me wrong, but… she’s not you.”
You put your hand to Donnie’s face and wiped away a tear that had managed to fall. Donnie leaned into your hand, a rare show of vulnerability you haven’t seen in, well, years. The two of you rarely shared this much physical affection beyond squeezing onto the workshop cot together when it got too late to head back to the sleeping quarters.
“I love you,” you said plainly, going back in for the hug and tucking your face against his chest. He stiffened the way he always did when you said those three words, but you kept trudging on, “And I’m sorry I keep pushing you like this. I just… I wish that we didn’t have to meet in the fucking apocalypse. I wish we had at least a few months together in the normal world before the Kraang decided to screw things up for us.”
“You have no idea,” Donnie said. He rested his cheek on the top of your head, “I would’ve liked to take you for a movie.”
“I would have pegged you as a bowling alley first date type of guy,” you replied, bringing a hand up to grab at his neck. Just to hold. Just to feel the texture of his scales beneath your fingers Just to know the two of you were as okay as you were ever going to be, “Show off your skills and spend the entire night trying to get me to stroke your ego.”
Donnie snorted, grabbing your hand from his neck and pressing his mouth against your palm.
It wasn't even a kiss, really, but it had your heart clenching in a way that you hadn't felt in years. The tears that formed in the corner of your eyes finally fell down your cheeks as you softly hiccupped.
Donnie churred soothingly and wiped them away with a gentle care that he reserved for you, only for you. The two of you sat there in silence again, not wanting to move away but not having an excuse to keep holding each other like that.
You coughed in your hand, making the first step to let Donnie go. His hands reluctantly let go of your shirt and the two of you stood awkwardly in the middle of the workshop and refused to make eye contact with each other.
“So,” you said, breaking the silence first for the third time in fifteen years, “we’re not in love.”
“That’s not–”
“That’s the only decision,” you said resolutely, “Agonizing over each other is as big of a distraction as being in love, so we can’t do either.”
Donnie opened his mouth and closed it. He spent one, two moments looking intently at your face before sighing with a shake of his head, “I suppose you’re right.”
“I always am,” you said with a humor you didn’t feel. You wiped a hand over your face, no doubt getting more grease all over your skin, “Anyways… the drone? Still gotta finish installing the navigation system.”
Donnie nodded, accepting the wrench you handed him.
In another life, you could have had this.
The thought of it had granted you many sleepless nights. What would the world be like with a Donatello that didn’t have to hold you at an arm’s length? Where you could have met him at some mundane coffee shop instead of a last minute rescue from Metro Tower? Maybe even a world where even the tiniest exchange of touch didn’t have to mean so damn much.
(You’d like to have your arm back, if anything else.)
You returned the soft smile Donnie gave you when you already had the soldering iron ready and a brush full of flux ready to assist him.
You supposed that Donnie was worth it, regardless of how you got to have him.
#atwlp#donnie x reader#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt#rottmnt donatello#donatello x reader#rottmnt donnie x reader#rise donnie x reader#rottmnt fanfiction#fanfic
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Hope you like this one!
Pairing: Chan x Fem!reader
Title: Neverending Story
"What are you doing?"
I look up, pause, my eyes widening. "Rough night?"
My roommate/best friend, gives me a look. "No?"
"You really need to look at the mirror," shaking my head as I go back to icing the cake in front of me. I hear her groan as she sits across from me.
"Don't tell me you're doing all that," she gestures at the cake, "for him?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"Y/N."
"What?" I blink at her.
She just shakes her head and walks over to the coffee pot to pour herself cup. "Just don't come running to me when things don't go your way."
Before I could ask what she meant, I turn but she's gone back in her room. What the hell?
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I sipped on my coffee as I waited for my other best friend to arrive. Chan was my best friend since the start of high school. Now, as we're both 25 and studying at the same university, we hang out every day. Even if it's just for 10 mins before our next class started. But today was his birthday. And I would always bake a cake for his birthday. Smiling, I set the coffee mug down when I see him walking towards where I was sitting.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm late," he says, shrugging off his jacket. "Traffic and all."
"Chan, it's okay," I giggle as he sits across from me. A waiter appears and places a hot mug of green tea in front of him.
"Okay, it's already a better day," he takes a sip, closing his eyes. "This is making me forget the cold outside."
I slide the cake box across the table. His eyes light up. "As always, your favorite. But I added my own little touch this time." The cake had chocolate filling and tasted like ferrero rocher chocolates, which was his favorite.
He opens the box and smiles widely. "Y/N, it's so pretty. I don't wanna eat it."
I laugh softly. "Channie, happy birthday."
He chuckles. "Thank you."
My phone buzzes. "Sorry. I'm gonna take this." I excuse myself, leaving him to eat the cake. "Hello?"
"Yo."
I roll my eyes. "Luna, you need to lay off the coffee."
"No can do," she replies. "Listen, let's go clubbing tonight!"
I peek back at Chan, who's biting into piece of the cake, making me smile when he does his happy fist dance. That's when I know he really likes it. "Text me the place and time," I replied.
------------------------------------------------------------
*THE CLUB*
"Y/N, honey, that dress," Luna says, twirling me around. "Well, safe to say you made heads turn."
"Oh hush," I chuckle, waving a hand.
"Could you get me a drink?" She excuses herself to go to the bathroom as I walk over to the bar. The music blaring, I could barely hear myself talk. When it eas finally my turn, I order a blue motorcycle for Luna and a screwdriver for myself.
"Can I pay for those drinks?" A voice comes from behind me. I turn, my eyes widening at the guy leaning against the bar. He's wearing a blue shirt with black jeans and.....good looking.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"If you're willing to pay for the second rounds for me and my friend," I state, tilting my head.
He laughs and I wasn't gonna lie if my stomach did somersaults. "I'm Mike."
"Y/N," I replied smiling.
"You here alone?"
"Uh, no. I came with my friends."
The bartender slides the drinks to me. "No boyfriend?"
I snort. "No." I sip my drink and grimace at the taste. Who the fuck likes these drinks?
"Hey, did you order my dri....hellooooo." Oh, great.
"Luna. Mike. Mike. Luna." I introduce them. They exchange their hellos and she turns to me, grabbing her drink.
"Well, I'll be with the others," she says, winking at me before turning around and walking away.
Well, atleast one less obstacle now. Good thing she knows how to read a room. "Care to dance?" Mike asked.
Smiling, I nod my head. "Sure." He leads me to the dance room. With my back to him and drink in my hand, I sway my body to the music as his hands land on my hips. He sways with me, moving to match my movements. Turning around, I move my hips getting very close to him. Damn, he smells good. But as my eyes meet his, I'm about to take a sip of my drink when it's snatched from my hand. "Hey!" I look to my right to find Chan, glaring at Mike. "Channie?"
"Is this your way of getting girls in your pants?" Chan asks Mike, who blinks back at Chan.
"What the hell, Chan?"
"Y/N, he just spiked your drink."
"What?"
"Tell her," Chan demanded, taking a step towards Mike.
"So what if I did?" Mike smirks and glances at me. "No hard feelings, sweetheart but a woman like you I would never go for."
It's like everything inside me stop. My blood running cold. A woman like me? I blink at the words. "You bastard!" It's all I hear from Chan before he swings his fist at Mike, sending him staggering back. "It's guys like you that give every nice guy, like me, a bad name." Chan then turns to me, offering me his hand. "Let's go, Y/N."
My body reacts on its own. Taking his hand, we both walk out of the club.
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*CHAN'S POV*
Back at Y/N's apartment, I'm sitting on one of the kitchen stool as she rummages theough her kitchen cabinets to find a first aid kit. I managed to partially split open the skin between my knuckes when I punched that douche bag. I watch as she stands to my right, grabbing my hand and dabbing rubbing alcohol with a cotton ball. I hiss at the sting. "Ah, I'm sorry!"
I blink, chuckling. "It's okay, Y/N." As she goes back to cleaning the cut, I admire her from where I'm sitting. She will never know. She will never know how I find her little chubby cheeks so adorable. A sudden pang in my heart falters my smile. Does she know how dear she is to me?
"Y/N."
"Hmm?" She says, opening a bandage.
"I have been meaning to ask you something for a while now."
As she places one bandage over a cut, I prepare myself for the worst. "Okay. Shoot."
Taking a deep breath, I clasp her hand, the one that was going to put another bandaid on. "Do you see me more than a friend?"
"What?" She laughs nervously, finally putting the bandaid on.
I give her a look. "We've been friends since high school and never once in my life I have felt like this about anyone but you."
"Chan, wha...what are you saying?" She asked.
I retract my hand, trying not to clench into a fist. "I'm saying that," I look into her eyes. "I like you, Y/N."
"What?"
"More than a friend."
The silence that followed after was enough for me to raise my hand towards her, thinking she feels the same way but she steps back. And that action alone was enough for an answer. "Channie, you're my best friend."
"Yeah. I got that," I replied, cold in my voice. "Listen, I have to go." I stand up and walk towards the door but a hand stops me.
"Where are you going?"
I yank my hand back. "I don't know. Air. Away from here." And I was gone.
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*Y/N POV*
For the next few weeks, I don't hear from Channie. At all. He doesn't even reply to my texts. He said he likes me. But why do I feel this.....uneasiness? Why do I feel like I'm the one that did something wrong? I pick up my phone and type another text.
Y/N: channie? Can you atleast tell me you're alive?
"Oh, look who turned up," Luna says.
I look up as I hit send. He's walking with a few of his friends across from us as Luna and I wait for our next class to start. My breath hitches in my breath. Well, that's the answer to my text. He glances towards me and my cheeks heat. What the fuck? Why am I blushing? I hear Luna's giggling and I snap my head towards her. "What's so funny?"
"Oh man," she snaps her book shut. "You're totally into him."
I gape at her. "I am not!"
"Okay. If you say so," she rolls her eyes and gathers her things. "Remember what I told you last time. If things go bad, don't come running to me."
Before I can reply, she's walking away to her class. I'm not into him. I'm not. I can't be. It's not possible. There's no way.
*******************************************************
I'm totally into him. I am. It's definitely possible. Because for the past few days, whenever he walks by me or I see him walking in the hallways, I find myself short of breath or totally get red in the face. "How is it that all this time I haven't realized how hot he looks in just a plain white shirt and jeans?"
Luna snorts and takes a sip of her coffee. It was winter break early for us, so we got two months off instead of juet a few weeks. Plus, our finals for the semesters were done. Luna and I were having our usual coffee date at the cafe that was close to our apartment as it was very convenient for us. Plus, her boyfriend, Han, was one of the popular barista's. They were very cute together. And he also happens to the best friend of Chan. Which made everything worse, for me.
"Han is looking at you again," I say.
She turns in her chair and her eyes light up when he waves at her, giving her a flying kiss. Good god. They were getting too sweet for me. "You two are going to give me diabetes."
"Trust me when I say you and Chan will give me diabetes when you get together," she replied.
"And what makes you think him and I will be together?" I asked to which she shrugged.
"It's been weeks, Y/N. When are you going to tell him?"
"Tell him what?"
"That you like him?"
I snort. "Yeah. That's not going to happen....." I drawl out the word because the person I was the least expecting just walked in. "Fuck me," I curse under my breath.
"What? What's wrong?" She asked concerned.
"Luna, I cannot be here. I can't be here with him in the same room. I can't handle another rejection," I said, my breath getting faster.
"What so you mean another rejection?" She blinks. "Wait, did he reject you?"
*FLASHBACK*
I waited outside his class, playing with my fingers when the students walk out. My eyes frantically search for him. When I spot him, I sprint towards him. "Channie."
He turns, surprised to see me. "Y/N."
"Can we talk?" I glance around us, students walking by. "Somewhere a bit quieter?"
And so we were standing in one of the university's garden as it's more of the quieter one. "So, you wanted to talk? About what?"
My cheeks heat as I clear my throat. "Channie, I know that you've been avoiding me ever since that night. And I've been thinking a lot about what you said to me that night as well. And well," I take a deep breath, "I like you, Chan."
After a beat, I hear him laughing. I give him a perplexed expression. "You're funny, Y/N."
"Huh?"
"I tell you that I like you and all it took was me to ignore you to realize your feelings?" He laughs some more.
It irks me, making me angry. "What's so funny?"
"What's funny is that," he looks straight into my eyes, his expression blank. "I don't feel the same way anymore. I got tired of being just the best friend."
"So what are you saying?" I asked, on the verge of tears.
"I'm saying that it's best if we part ways, Y/N. Let's find our own path to happiness, even if it means finding it in another person," he replied smiling. "See you around, Y/N." And he leaves, my heart breaking in pieces.
*PRESENT*
"I just can't. I'll see you when you get home," I say grabbing my bag and as I walked by his table, I felt his eyes on me but I was glad to be out of there. Releasing a breath of relief, I start walking in the direction of my apartment. Maybe it is best we parted ways. Maybe this will be good for us.
But a part of me wanted him to run after me.
The next few days, it's my turn to avoid him. Even if I saw in the hallway, I would walk by him without glancing at his way. And I think he noticed because there were a few times he tried to get my attention. And all those times, Luna dragged me away, which I thanked her for afterwards.
Even though it was my winter break, I still used the universities amenities as it helped me with focus. And today was a day where the university held a small event for everyone outside near the main enterance as it had less traffic going by. The event was very small and it was all christmas related. Luna, once again, dragged me to watch and Han tagged along.
"Luna, I want to go home," I protested.
"Would it kill you to just enjoy a few minutes of this event?!" She said, almost yelling. Keyword being almost.
I surrended and watched a few of the students sing christmas songs and played instruments. I was impressed by a few but soon, I was getting too impatient to leave. So I turn to Luna. "I'm going to go. I'll see you when you get home."
"But, Y/N-"
"Ladies and gentlemen! Our next performer is our top student from our music program! He's written many songs and I'm sure some of you may already know him by now!"
I stop mid step and whirl around. What? It can't be....
"Give it up for the one and only, the lovely and handsome, Chan!" The speaker says into the mic as the crowd erupts into an applause. But I'm frozen on the stop as I see him approach the mic.
"The song I'm about to sing is fairly new one so I do apologize if there are a few errors," he says smiling. And I notice he's got a guitar too. How did I never knew that he also played guitar?
His fingers hit the strings of the guitar the first few seconds before his mouth gets close to the mic. And the most angelic voice comes through the speakers.
기억해 우리 처음 만난 날
Gieokhae uri cheo-eum mannan nal
Remember the first day we met
수줍던 미소와 쏟아지던 햇살을
Sujupdeon misowa ssodajideon haessareul
A shy smile and the sunlight falling
눈빛만 보아도 나는 알 수 있었어
Nunbitman boado naneun al su isseosseo
I knew, just by looking into your eyes
우리는 하난 걸 (우리는 하난 걸)
Urineun hanan geol (urineun hanan geol)
That we're one (That we're one)
네가 나란 걸
Niga naran geol
That you're me
네가 웃을 때나 힘들 때나 항상 지켜줄게 (너를 위해)
Niga useul ttaena himdeul ttaena
Hangsang jikyeojulge (neoreul wihae)
Whenever you smile, whenever it's hard for you
I'll always protect you (For you)
시간마저 거슬러서 네 앞에 나타날게
Siganmajeo geoseulleoseo ne ape natanalge
I can go against time, so I can appear in front of you
I believe, I believe
세상이 바뀌어도 변치 않아 약속해 줄래
I believe I believe
Sesangi bakkwieodo byeonchi anha yaksokhae jullae
I believe, I believe even if the world changes
Can you promise that we won't change?
이 아름다운 곳에서
I areumdaun goseseo
At this beautiful place
널 사랑했던 모든 기억은
Neol saranghaetdeon modeun gieogeun
All the memories where I loved you
끝나지 않을 이야기가 되어
Kkeutnaji anheul iyagiga doe-eo
Will become a neverending story
빛날 거야
Binnal geoya
It'll shine
Never say goodbye 너와 난 하나니까
Never say goodbye neowa nan hananikka
Never say goodbye, because we are one
같은 꿈 속을 함께 거닐 테니까
Gateun kkum sogeul hamkke geonil tenikka
Because we will walk together in the same dream
지금 이대로 넌 내 곁에서 웃어주기로 해요
Jigeum idaero neon nae gyeoteseo useojugiro haeyo
Continue smiling by my side just like this moment
내일 보다 멀리 영원보다 오래
Naeil boda meolli yeongwonboda orae
Longer than tomorrow, farther than eternity
사랑해 널
Saranghae neol
I love you
This time, I don't know how, he looks straight at me in the crowd and sings the next verse.
Never say goodbye 너와 난 하나니까
Never say goodbye neowa nan hananikka
Never say goodbye, because we are one
같은 꿈 속을 함께 거닐 테니까
Gateun kkum sogeul hamkke geonil tenikka
Because we will walk together in the same dream
지금 이대로 넌 내 곁에서 웃어주기로 해요
Jigeum idaero neon nae gyeoteseo useojugiro haeyo
Continue smiling by my side just like this moment
내일 보다 멀리 영원보다 오래
Naeil boda meolli yeongwonboda orae
Longer than tomorrow, farther than eternity
사랑해 널
Saranghae neol
I love you
The crowd roars and gave him a standing ovation as he bows. But he puts his finger on his lips and immediately the entire crowd becomes quiet as he stands in front of the mic again. "This song, I wrote a couple of days ago when a certain someone told me about her feelings for me."
I can't move. My eyes are fixed on him and him only.
"At first, I wanted to yell at her for taking so long to reciprocate my feelings. But then," he looks at me and smiles, showing those dimples I fell for. "I saw her. I truly saw her."
"Who's the girl?!" Someone from the crowd shouted causing everyone to laugh.
"That girl is my best friend since high school. I started seeing her as more than a friend 3 years ago on her birthday when I gave her the earrings she had been wanting."
I gasp, my hands immediately touching my ears. The earrings. I never took them off.
"It was only a year after, that I realized I had fallen in love with her."
The crowd went 'ooooo' and 'ahhhh.'
"So, Y/N."
Luna silently squeals and slaps me on my back, snapping me back to reality. "Y/N! Go!"
"But-"
"Go!" She pushes me and the crowd makes way for me to walk towards the stage. As I walked, I glance around at the people giving me encouragement. Then my eyes land on him, standing on the stage holding out his hand. I take his hand and he pulls me up on the stage as the crowd, once again, erupts in loud applause.
"Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!" The crowd chants.
Taking off the guitar, he takes a step closer to me. But I beat him to it first. "Did you mean it?"
"Every word," he replied, smiling as he yanks me towards him.
"Say it again."
"I love you, Y/N."
I smile, forgetting about the people watching us. "Kiss him already!"
We both laugh. "May I?" He asks.
I nod. He leans down, his arms sliding around my waist as my arms go around his neck. When our lips touch, the crowd roars the loudest it has been. When we break apart, one person shouts, "Encore! Encore!"
This time, he crashes his lips on mine. And I lose myself in the kiss. I never want this to end.
This is our Neverending story.
#bang chan#chris bang#christopher bang#stray kids bang chan#bang chan fanfic#stray kids#fanfic#oneshot#straykids
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Ya know I feel like there's a shit ton of hyprocrisy going on when people compare RTD's writing and Moffat's on dw but nothing irks me more than when they say Moffat era made the doctor too important when he was portrayed as just a guy in RTD. Like. Are you fucking kidding me. Be for real.
In the GODDAMN first episode, one of the first thing we learn about the doctor is through Clive (rip) in that scene :
The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. When disaster comes, he's there. He brings the storm in his wake and he has one constant companion.
ROSE: Who's that?
CLIVE: Death.
So yeah the Doctor is a Legend. Next, in New Earth he is called "the lonely God". Very normal guy core.
It gets worse, who could forget this wonderful speech in The Family of Blood ?
LATIMER: Because it was waiting. And because I was so scared of the Doctor.
JOAN: Why?
LATIMER: Because I've seen him. He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun.
DOCTOR: Stop it.
LATIMER: He's ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe.
DOCTOR: Stop it! I said stop it.
LATIMER: And he's wonderful.
The Next one is by Steven Moffat but crucially still during 10s era so STILL part of how the doctor was characterised. RTD approved you might say.
DOCTOR: Don't play games with me. You just killed someone I liked. That is not a safe place to stand. I'm the Doctor, and you're in the biggest library in the universe. Look me up.
(There is a pause, then the shadows withdraw.)
ANITA: You have one day.
I added it because I saw people act as if the Eleventh Hour's resolution with a doctor boast was completly out of character and not something he literaly did one series before.
Ok now for the real silly, that scene in Last of the Time Lords where the power of PRAYER turned 10 young and hyper powerful. For real. Yeah like a sort of Space Jesus.
Bonus: that part in Voyage of the Damned when he flied with two angels lifting him like ok lmao.
Those were just the ones I could remember out of the top of my head but "just a guy" my entire fucking ass. Go rewatch that show.
I feel like Moffat is often accused of turning the doctor into too much of an incredibly powerful figure not because he did it more than RTD but because he discussed the trope and as such put a lot of attention on it . All of those I pointed out in RTD are played incredibly straight but in Moffat's era the doctor's legend is a problem. It's the plot of the s5 finale, he became so big his ennemies allied. It's the reason he gets called out in "A good man goes to war"
RIVER: This was exactly you. All this. All of it. You make them so afraid. When you began, all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you'd become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name. Doctor. The word for healer and wise man throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that word come to mean? To the people of the Gamma Forests, the word Doctor means mighty warrior. How far you've come. And now they've taken a child, the child of your best friends, and they're going to turn her into a weapon just to bring you down. And all this, my love, in fear of you.
It continues in Asylum of the Daleks where Moffat tries to erase the doctor's legend and is concluded somewhat in s8 finale with the proposition that what the doctor actually is, is in fact an idiot.
DOCTOR: I really didn't know. I wasn't sure. You lose sight sometimes. Thank you! I am not a good man! I am not a bad man. I am not a hero. And I'm definitely not a president. And no, I'm not an officer. Do you know what I am? I am an idiot, with a box and a screwdriver. Just passing through, helping out, learning. I don't need an army. I never have, because I've got them. Always them. Because love, it's not an emotion. Love is a promise.
But nobody saying stuff like "Moffat made the doctor too important" ever watched Capaldi's era anyway so it's not like they would know.
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prev chapters
———
Lance smooths down the pleats of his new black skirt, trying to focus on how nice it feels and not the anxiety churning in his stomach.
It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s totally not going to make a fool of himself and then be forced to quit Voltron due to his own humiliation.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Hunk laments dramatically, poking at Lance’s lockpad like he’s itching to take a screwdriver to it. “Keith is so whipped for you that it’s actually embarrassing. I dunno why you’re worrying about anything.”
“The person who’s fault this is doesn’t get an opinion,” Lance says pointedly. He glares at his best friend through the mirror, who only shrugs in defense.
“You don’t work through your shit unless you’re forced to. Remember the Garrison applications?”
Lance sighs. Hunk’s right, which is annoying. Lance had dreamed about becoming a pilot since he could think, basically, but as soon as he was old enough to fill out the forms, he chickened out. Worked himself up into a frenzy about not being good enough, and managed to convince himself not to bother. It was Hunk, aged eleven, who forged Lance’s application for him and sent it in with his own.
Lance does, unfortunately, need to be pushed into things he’s nervous about. That’s why he and Hunk are friends, even though Hunk is a horrible secret keeper.
“I still think you should be begging for my forgiveness,” Lance grumbles. He takes one last look in the mirror and can’t quite help a smile.
He does, if one were to think completely objectively, look fine as hell. Red is his colour, and damn any conflicting opinions to hell — the belly button piercing is pretty. The tramp stamp is a classy kind of trashy.
And the lipgloss Allura convinced him to get?
Damn. That’s all he has to say about that.
“Finally,” Hunk grouches when Lance turns to the door, but he’s grinning, and he keeps an encouraging hand on Lance’s shoulder the whole walk to the dining room.
“I think it’s really excellent that we’re doing this as we eat,” he says conversationally. “I’m looking forward to watching Keith forget how to use a spoon.”
Lance snorts. “Keith will not forget how to use a fuckin’ spoon, dorkbrain. Besides, he’s seen it all, remember?”
Hunk grins. “I do remember you telling me about the shower incident. Allura and I like to bring it up to each other randomly and laugh until we cry.”
Fortunately for Hunk, they make it to the doors before Lance can kick him for his insolence. Hunk half-yanks Lance through before he can talk himself out of it.
“Oh, no fucking way.” Pidge is the first to notice. She looks at Lance with wide, gleeful eyes, as if Lance has just informed her that her birthday comes twice this year. She looks at his midriff, then back at his face, and grins, adjusting her glasses. “I fucking love it here. Everything about my life is a gem.”
“I mean, we are fighting fascism,” Allura mumbles. She shoots Lance a smile and turns back to trying to sculpt the castle out of food goo (it is not going well, thus her stuck-out tongue and intense concentration). Lance tugs on her hair as he walks by, just to be a nuisance. She tries and fails to trip him.
“My, dear, you look wonderful!” Coran says. He beams so brightly at Lance that Lance can’t help but smile back, accepting the chair Coran pulls out for him — swallowing down the twinge of pain he gets when he remembers his siblings doing the same teasing gesture back home, whenever he dressed up for no reason, the twinge of pain he gets when his space family and his Earth family occupy the same space in his heart — and sitting carefully so as to not flare up his skirt.
“Thanks, Coran.”
He glances at the rest of the table. Shiro shoots him a wink and a thumbs up, and Hunk, who’s sat down next to Pidge, is openly sniggering.
Keith is completely frozen, spoon halfway to his mouth, goo sliding off of it.
“Hey, Keith,” Lance says. He hears the slight slyness in his voice, the nerves making butterflies turn in his stomach but kind of exciting him, too.
Keith opens his mouth, then closes it again, and does that several times before he finally makes himself speak.
“Hey,” he croaks out. Lance ducks his head slightly to hide his grin. “You, uh. You look — I like your —” he struggles to find his words and gives up for a moment, gesturing vaguely to Lance’s person.
Poorly-hidden giggles erupt from all over the table. Keith goes redder than his lion.
“You like my…?” Lance tries, well aware he’s fishing for compliments and beyond caring.
“All of it,” Keith says, a little helplessly. He’s undoubtedly embarrassed — obviously — but his eyes are determined, and his voice is sincere. He takes a deep breath and then nods once to himself, like he’s solidifying a decision.
“All of it,” he repeats, voice steadier than before.
Lance’s cheeks start to hurt. “Thank you.”
Keith nods again, ears still red, and turns back to his goo. He scarfs his food down, not looking up, and practically runs to the sink when he’s done, washing his dish at lightspeed and rushing out the doors with a hasty wave and excuse.
“Oh, he’s going to be so embarrassing for the next few weeks,” Shiro says wistfully. He turns to Lance with the fondest expression. “Gold star for you, kiddo. Please continue to make my week.”
Lance thinks to the giant bag of clothes he and Allura brought back from the mall, and how absolutely none of them cover his midriff. He smirks slightly to himself
“Will do, Team Leader.”
He’s going to have fun cracking that boy.
#not as good as the last chapter tbh but it’s fine until i get the story rolling again#since it’s been TEN FUCKING MONTHS since i’ve updated 😭😭#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#klance#pre klance#pining lance#pining keith#whipped keith#whipped lance#hot lance#flirty lance#flustered keith#hunk#hunk garrett#lance & hunk#my writing#fic#longpost#the butterfly effect#team as family#fluff
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Let’s Have Fun
Summary: You and Peter break into Tony’s Liquor Cabinet and have fun!
Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, Underage Drinking (don’t do it), Swearing, Vomit, High School Musical
“Are you sure about this?” I asked, looking at the brown-haired boy next to me.
“It’s too late to go back now, we’re in too deep,” he said, taking a breath.
“Okay, let’s do it.” I reached out my fist and he fist-bumped me back before turning our attention to the locked cabinet in front of us.
You put the screwdriver into the screws surrounding the locks on Tony’s liquor cabinet. You and Peter were alone in the compound for the weekend, the avengers were gone on what they called “an adult mission” which means there was a possibility there was unsafe material or some extreme stuff. And they were just having your “best interest in mind”.
You had your own best interest in mind as well as the lock dropped from the cabinet. You two were the only minors and didn’t have anyone else to lean on except each other when it came to saving the world and doing chemistry. You often talked about how you felt you were missing out on a lot of things in high school due to your Stark Internship.
One day, Peter and you were sitting on the roof of the compound, talking about life, when Peter brought up the best stupid idea ever.
“Have you ever had alcohol or like gone to a party?” He said, turning his head towards you.
“A couple of times, they weren’t really my thing cause I don’t have too many friends at my school. But I felt if I didn’t go, I would regret it” you said, looking at the sky in the distance.
“Did you? Regret it?” He asked. “I regret not getting drunk enough to forget the night” you responded with a laugh. It was quiet for a bit before the spider boy spoke up.
“Have you ever been drunk before?” he asked while looking at the sky.
“No, you?” You asked, looking at him. “Couple of times with friends, like MJ and Ned at someone’s party. It’s fun. Makes me feel normal and kinda free.” he said, hearing a bit of relief coming off his chest as he said that.
“Like you are just a teenager who makes mistakes, and not a superhero who people look up to,” you responded.
“Exactly,” he said as you heard your phone beep. A message saying ‘adult trip this weekend. You and Pete are on watch duty. Don’t be stupid.’
“For fuck sake.” you groaned, getting up into a seated position.
“What? Another ‘adult’ mission?” the boy asked.
“You got that right. We are on watch duty, again.” you put the phone on the ground as you let out a groan. “God I just want to fuckin life. But I can’t do anything because of Iron Dad controlling my life” referring to the nickname you have Tony. Peter looked at you as an idea popped into his head. “Who said you have to leave to have fun?” you looked at your friend with a confused face.
“Peter Parker, what is going on in your head?” you asked. You and Peter usually did crazy stuff together and always caused trouble. but with the conversation you two just had, You were nervous about what he had in mind.
“Well, you and I are alone at the compound this weekend. So why don’t we get into Tony’s cabinet and have some fun?” he asked.
“ARE YOU INSANE? we can’t do that.” You stood up from your spot as you said that.
“Why not? The two of us are smarter and more technologically advanced than the majority of the Avengers,” he said as he slowly stood up as well. You thought this over in your head. You had the
“Okay, let’s say we do it. How? What’s the plan?”
“Well, you are better with tools and I’m better at technology. So I’ll hack into F.R.I.D.A.Y, have her say that we are doing well, and play the video of us watching that movie from a couple of weeks ago. And you figure out a way to get the lock off of the Liquor cabinet.” You looked at your friend in amazement.
“That’s not too bad Spidey boy, I think we might be able to pull it off.”
“So, you wanna do it?” he asked. There was no doubt in your mind.
“Hell yeah. You only live once, so let's have some fun!”
That conversation led to where you are now. You and Peter stand in front of the liquor cabinet and look at the holy grail collection of liquid gold. “Now what?” you asked the spider boy.
“Well,” he said as he took the Vodka and Tequila out of the cabinet. “We usually start with a stupid drinking game. Do you know any? And grab some lemons and lime from the fridge and cut them up” he asked as he moved towards the island in the kitchen. He sat down the bottles and went to get some cups and shot glasses.
“Promise not to judge?” you asked as you started cutting the fruit. “Y/n, we are way past the judging point.” you saw him grab the salt from the cabinet as well.
“I found this High school musical drinking game and I always wanted to play it.” you blurted out. He looked at you and you couldn't tell if it was excitement or a ‘wtf were you thinking’ face.
“THERE'S A HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL DRINKING GAME? AND YOU ARE TELLING ME NOW?!?!!”
“We haven’t even discussed drinking until a couple days ago!” you argued back at him. You finished the fruit and grabbed a bowl for each to put them in.
“That honestly might be the best invention that anyone came up with” He started to pour some of the tequila into some of the shot glasses. You grabbed some pop out of the fridge as chasers for the two of you as well.
“So you in?” you asked, looking at your friend.
“Let's get our heads in the game!” Peter said with the goofiest grin on his face. You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, let me pull up the rules,” you said as you grabbed your phone out of your back pocket.
Okay, you do that, but first,” he places down a shot in front of you and hands you a lime, “SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT!” he said as he jumped up and down. You looked at the glass in front of you then back to your friend.
“Oh god, we’re really doing this aren't we?”
“Hell yeah,” he raised his shot glass “to making mistakes,” he exclaimed. “And living our lives”. You clicked, tapped the glass to the counter, and downed it. You put the lime in your mouth immediately after. “So, how did you like it?”
“Not too bad, better than I thought. The lime helped a lot” you said as you felt the burn in your throat. “Happy to hear. Want a Dirty Shirley for the movie? Then I’ll grab the shot glasses and tequila.” he asked as he got some grenadine out from the cabinet.
“Sounds good” You went ahead into the common room to set up the movie, and get ready for the night. ‘This won’t be too bad, it will be fun’ you thought in your head.
TIME JUMP
You were right. This was the best decision you ever made.
You and Peter were about Halfway through High School Musical 2 at this point. You of course are doing all the dance numbers. But you gave up on the drinking game halfway through the First movie as you two got pretty drunk really early on.
“Hey y/nnn” you heard Peter call from his couch, “the best song is about to start!” He said pointing to the TV. He wasn’t wrong. Troy and Gabriella's big breakup song ‘Gotta Go my Own Way’ was about to start.
“OMG OMG! Ok, I’ll be gabby you Troy?” You said voice slurred from the alcohol.
“Oh course bestie,” Peter said as you both got up from your respective places on the couch “But one final Shot before we go in,” he said, losing his balance a bit.
“In honor of Troy and Gabriella, the best relationship to ever live.” You said as you cheered your glasses together. You each had a glass of Soda/pop as your chaser that you downed before you went to your respective places in the room.
About halfway through singing this breakup song you started to cry.
“Hey,” Peter said, making his way towards you when he noticed you didn’t sing your part. “Why are you crying? Are you not having fun?”
“TROY AND GABRIELLA BROKE UP!” You screamed and cried at the top of your lung. The screaming sobered Peter up a bit as he sat down next to you and rubbed your back.
“Y/n, you have seen this movie hundreds of times. You know they get back together.” Peter said
“I know but it’s still so sad and they loved each other, she even had a necklace to show her love for him. AND SHE GAVE BACK THE NECKLACE.” You said and you started to hiccup a bit. You ran to the nearest trash can and threw up in there. Peter came over and held your hair as you left everything out of your system. “It’s okay Y/n. Let it out” he said as he rubbed your back.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” You heard a voice behind you say. You turn your head slightly to see the team, which consisted of Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, and Nat. Tony and Steve looked and saw the empty liquor bottles and were furious. Bucky and Sam slowly started to put things together but slowly. Nat and Wanda's protective instincts came through and rushed over to console you.
“Troy and Gabriella Broke up” you sobbed to them. They all turned their heads to Peter who was clearly drunk, but not as bad as you.
“Okay so we wanted to have fun and get drunk while you were gone cause we felt we didn’t have any fun and only did work and school and so we played high school musical drinking games and now Y/N is sad drunk and crying over Troy and Gabriella,” Peter said as fast as he could. Tony walked over to approach him. He pressed the button that removed his mask. He looked at Peter and you before standing up.
“Not it for dealing with the Drunk Teenagers!” he said as he left the room. Steve looked at the team around him. “Okay, divide and conquer. Nat and Sam, you make sure Peter goes to bed. Bucky and I got Y/n. Wanda, can you do something to make Y/n stop crying please?” He said as he pointed to each team member. Wanda came over to you and kneeled beside you. “Hey sweetie,” she said as she wiped some of the tears that were on your cheek, “I heard you are upset over the breakup.” You leaned back against the marble backing as you nodded next to the garbage can.
“They were perfect together but Troy was an asshole and put his future in basketball over Gabriella. WHO DOES THAT TO HER? SHE SO PRETTY.” you said. The boys looked at you and tried so hard not to laugh. But Wanda sent them a very scary glare that shut them up.
“I know honey, I know.” She said as she ran her fingers through my hair. “How about we head to bed and then watch the rest in the morning okay?” you nodded your head as you felt your eyes get heavy. You felt two arms, one of them kinda cold, lift you up and hauled you over their shoulder. “Troy, is that you?” you asked the muscular men next to you.
“No munchkin, just Steve and bucky.” he said as you got into the elevator. “oh,” you said, kinda disappointed. “Are we going to lava springs? I need to speak to troy.”
“No doll, you are drunk and heading to bed,” Bucky said as the elevator went up. “I don’t wanna.” You wined towards the super Soldiers. “I wanna go to the springs so I can see Troy.” You were tired and about to fall asleep but you had a mission to fulfill.
You reached your floor and you all made your way into your room. Steve pulled back the covers and Bucky laid you down on your bed. You were already in your PJs earlier so there was no need for you to get changed.
“Buckyyyyy,” you said with your eyes closed. “What do you need doll?” He said as he kneeled down beside you. He pushed some hair out of your face.
“Can you come with me to beat up Troy tomorrow? I think that metal arm might help him realize how bad he fucked up.” He laughed before looking back at you. “Sure doll but I need you to do something for me before you fall asleep.” You didn’t even notice Steve go back downstairs to get you water and ibuprofen. He gives it to Bucky, and Bucky nodded thanks before Turing to you. “Can you sit up for me?” You sat up on the bed as Bucky gave you the water and put the pills in your hand.
“Just drink this and take these pills for me, please. It will help you in the morning.” You were too tired to argue so you did it as fast as your drunk body could. “There we go, good job,” Bucky said before you laid back down on the bed.
“I’m tired.” You said as your eyes closed. “Okay sweetie, get some sleep.” You heard Steve say. “Mmm kay. Night St…ucky” you slurred as you let the sleep consume you. The boys looked at you and then at each other.
“Did she just combine our names?” Bucky asked Steve. “I think she did, but she is tired so maybe she didn't even notice it,” Steve said as they exited your room. “But it does have a nice ring to it, stucky.” He said as they made their way to their respective rooms. “Okay, so we both taking care of her tomorrow?” Steve asked before opening the door to his bedroom.
“Oh, I'm not. But you can. Goodnight Steve.” Bucky said quickly before shutting the door in his room. Steve looked at the closed door ahead of him. “Damn you Bucky,” Steve said as he closed his door. He knew he was in for a long day tomorrow.
#marvel#mcu#avengers x reader#peter parker x teen!reader#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker x reader#tony stark x teen!reader#steve rogers x teen!reader#bucky barnes x teen!reader#avengers x teen!reader
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The Girl Next Door part III
Pairing: Jeryd Mencken x OFC
Warnings: politics (gag), dubious content, alcohol consumption. Read the previous chapter’s warnings (we ALL know where this is headed)
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Benadryl. I went to the moon last night and somehow woke up with this chapter finished. Thanks to @runningwiththefoxes for being THAT BITCH and @luxlisbons for letting me whine, @weakling-grace for being the best hypeman and @vivalafae for also being neurotic and insane like me.
Also, we’re staying in the Succ universe for this. Jeryd just hasn’t taken off on his political journey yet. I’ve had a few messages about this and just wanted to clear it up.
WC: 1956
I made it a point to buy curtains the next day. They would lay in a pile below my bedroom window for close to a month. The rod would become bent and the screws would wind up in various cracks and divots of the hardwood floor. I made an effort, I would tell myself, only giving up because I couldn’t find a screwdriver or a drill- It was a lie if I had ever told one.
Over the course of a week his house became visible to me through his bedroom window. He never closed his curtain after that night, rewarding me a few days later when he opened the curtains covering the bay window adjacent to the one in my own kitchen.
Oftentimes I would catch him fresh out of the shower. He would trail past the window, his hand vigorously rubbing a towel through his hair, before reappearing a few seconds later, his slender fingers buttoning his button down as he gazed out the window. He would stare out at the sky, at the old oak tree looming in my front yard, over to the inlet, but his eyes would always end up on me.
No more peep shows, I told myself, but dressed and undressed purposely in front of the window each day.
Other times, I would catch him watching me doing innocent things. Folding myself uncomfortably into a dining room chair with an old book, perched on top of the kitchen counter as I chatted animatedly to my long distance friend over the course of hour long phone calls, dancing around the kitchen as I ate raw cake batter. It didn’t matter what I was doing- he looked at me with the same intensity he had the night I fucked Evan for him to see. There was something about that I just couldn’t shake.
On Wednesday, I woke up earlier than I normally would have. A waterline break had canceled my shift at The Marina, an answered prayer delivered via text message sometime after I had gone to sleep the previous night. I rooted around the sheets for the better part of an hour before I decided I wouldn’t be going back to sleep. It was barely past six in the morning.
Thinking about him made me nervous. It’s normal, I told myself, it’s human to be curious. My silent commiserations had left me feeling dirty. My internal monologue seesawing between morality and depravity.
For the first time in a week, I dressed timidly in the darkness of my bathroom, away from any prying eyes. A sort of guilt had washed over me, the type you experience when barely any remorse is involved. Which made the guilt, or lack thereof, even more personal. I laced my tennis shoes in haste and nearly toppled down the staircase in an effort to put physical distance between him and I.
I ran briskly out the front door, my feet thudding against the cool pavement as I set my pace. I took the same course I had taken when I was a teenager. Right out of my driveway to the end of the residential area where the lopsided Welcome sign stood, around the traffic circle that connected Blair Street with Ocean Avenue, and back down Paxton Place. Rinse and repeat. Easy enough.
Running had always cleared my mind. I knew the science behind it. The rush of endorphins and such, but I also resonated with the idea of simply running away from my problems.
And then my problem caught up to me. I hadn’t noticed him at first, too lost in my own little world, before his stride caught up to mine. We stayed at the same pace for a short while, only when I had a burst of energy did I manage to outrun him, but it didn’t last long.
“So,” he blew out a gust of air and looked over at me, “Georgetown in the fall?”
“Can’t. Talk. And. Run.” I managed to get out. He laughed at me, running ahead.
Once we were home free and both of our respective houses were within eyesight, I came to a violent stop, bending at the waist as I braced my thighs in an effort to catch my breath.
“How’d you know about Georgetown?” I asked, dragging myself to the curb to sit down.
“Oh,” he sat beside me, “the McGovens told us all about the neighbors when we moved in.”
“Obviously you weren’t warned properly.”
He nodded along, seemingly agreeing to what exactly I was alluding to.
“There’s a lecture at Stony Brook today,” he stretched his legs out in front of him and looked back at me, “a congressman from Pennsylvania.”
“Yeah, Gil Eavis. I heard about that.”
He nodded. “I’m expected to be there to make sure my students show up and engage. You could join me,” He looked at me almost expectantly, “Only if you want.”
_________________________________________
To say I was nervous would have been the understatement of the century. I silently chastised myself for not having a more structured summer. To not be able to use work or school as an excuse as I had done so many times in the past when I wanted to get out of a social engagement.
“He’s full of shit,” Mencken whispered to me while looking straight ahead, “everything he says is bullshit.”
I pretended to be so deeply immersed in whatever Eavis was rattling on about that I only nodded in silence.
“Pandering to the fucking left,” Mencken scoffed, “this guy doesn’t know the difference between his asshole and a hole in the ground.”
Right. Sure. Whatever you say, Mr. Mencken. The only thing I had been focused on was how far apart his legs were spread, his right knee touching my left knee, had me practically breaking apart at the seams. If driving to the university together had been foreplay, this was practically second base.
When I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. Eavis took a few questions from the crowd as Mencken suggested we leave.
“I’ve heard enough,” he leaned down and told me as we made our way out of the lecture hall and towards the main entrance.
“You hungry, Olive?”
_________________________________________
We ended up at a little Italian restaurant about fifteen minutes outside of town.
“A hidden gem,” he told me as he drove and I gazed out the window at the dulcet tones the sunset put off.
When we got there, we were swiftly seated towards the back of the restaurant. I promptly ordered a glass of wine but he intervened, ordering an entire bottle.
“So,” he cleared his throat, “Georgetown. That’s heavy stuff.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess so.”
“You guess so?,” he laughed and cocked his head at me, “Georgetown is impressive. “
Once the wine was served and my pulse returned to its baseline, he pried more information out of me. We discussed how I’d double majored in Political Science and Communications, with him calling me an overachiever, and then ragging on me for going to NYU.
“Law schools don’t give a shit about a double major, Olive.” Or, “You should’ve gone to college further from home and seen the world a little bit, Olive.”
“What about you?” I asked him after my second glass of wine. “Who are you?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t go to Georgetown.” He spat back at me. That same sarcastic grin I’d come to loathe and love simultaneously mirroring my own.
“Hofstra University. Full scholarship,” he informed me as he downed his second glass of wine.
“Impressive.”
The conversation idled comfortably as we both ate.
It was never awkward or forced. Neither of us gave away any personal details other than colleges and majors. Nothing of which would be deemed too deep for the light evening we had shared thus far.
“I taught high school Civics and US government in Roslyn for ten years,” he filled our glasses with the last remaining bit of wine from the bottle before continuing, “and then I took the job at Stony back in January before we settled here.”
We.
I wanted to ask about his partner. Their presence being highlighted in the subtle glitter of his wedding band. I had noticed it the first night I met him, an observation I would have made on anyone else. It didn’t mean anything to me then and it shouldn’t have meant anything to me at dinner. But it did. It meant more to me in the back of that old school Italian restaurant than I cared to realize. I wasn’t sure if I was jealous or concerned. Frankly, I was curious.
“Where’s your wife?” I asked him out of nowhere.
I had caught him off guard, his eyes narrowing at me.
“Mission trip.” Was all he offered.
“Where’s your mother?” He asked, “I noticed you’ve been alone.”
Sinister, but not at all threatening. It’s hard to be a voyeur and not recognize these things.
“A medical conference in Florida. She leaves Miami on Thursday to go on a 14 day cruise.”
He hummed in response.
I wanted to call him a dog. But if he was a dog, well, I was one as well.
_________________________________________
It rained that night. It started lightly at first, mixing uncomfortably with the humidity outside, casting the windows in thick fog. He drove slower than he had before, cursing the defroster for not doing the one job it had been designed to do.
I was blissfully drunk and the world felt a little lighter than it had when my day started. I leaned back in my seat, my head lulling to the side as I watched him thrum the tips of his fingers on the dash while his palm gripped the wheel.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, eyes never leaving the road.
I sat up a little straighter. “Like what?”
I hadn’t even realized he had made it back to our houses until he put the car in park.
“Like that,” he said, finally turning his body to the side to look at me.
There were plenty of things I wanted to say:
“Don’t look in my windows anymore.”
“Don’t come into The Marina when I’m working.”
“Don’t ply me with wine at dinner.”
“Move back to Roslyn.”
But none of them would have conveyed what I was feeling more so than when I crawled over the center console and directly onto his lap, straddling him with ease.
His hands rested on the outside of my thighs and he looked up at me, so confident and cool, as I stared down at him.
When I leaned down to kiss him, he met me halfway. What started slowly and deeply, turned into a power struggle of sorts. My hands roamed across his neck, my thumbs meeting at the crest of his Adam’s apple, as our teeth clashed. His hands, his huge hands, explored my stomach, nearly covering the surface area with his palms alone. When his hands danced onto my lower back and dipped low into my jeans, I felt the cool metal of his wedding band as he gripped onto my bare ass, kneading and pulling the soft flesh, dragging me down onto him in a grinding motion.
There was a hesitancy in my kiss then. The guilt had begun to set in.
I pulled away from him.
“I can’t do this.”
I scurried back across the center console and nearly threw myself from the passenger’s side door. I didn’t turn around once I made it to my doorstep. Instead, I let myself inside, slammed the door, and tried to catch my breath.
I slept in my mother’s room that night. The only bedroom with curtains.
#jeryd mencken x original female character#jeryd mencken fic#jeryd mencken fanfiction#jeryd mencken x ofc#jeryd mencken#justin kirk
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Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Twitterpated Brat [17]
TW/// smut!!! :D
__
Ash throws a cold, soggy fry into her mouth, stumbling around with her arm linked through Larry's. The two look like they're about to start line-dancing through Caesar's Palace. They kick their legs up with each step, giggling about nothing and everything all at the same time.
And that leaves Todd, Sal, and me to scramble around and try to cover their tracks.
Between the two of them, Larry and Ash managed to kill all three dozen jello shots. When you slap those on top of the giant daiquiris they both drank earlier, and then the screwdrivers they grabbed somewhere on the way back to the hotel-- they're pretty sloshed.
"Let's take the stairs," Ash gasps, squeezing Larry's toned arm. She points up at the spiral staircase that she and I climbed just two days ago.
"This is why I love you," Larry whispers, leaning toward the woman with his best, award-winning smile. In reality, he looks deeply pained... but he's trying, I guess. "You have the best ideas," he praises, booping Ash's nose with his index finger.
Ash scrunches her nose and closes her eyes, pushing her face closer to emo buff daddy.
"Yea," Sal says nonchalantly from beside me. I glance over at him-- his hands are stuffed into the pockets of his black cargo pants, cerulean gaze focused on our mutual friends milling about in front of us. "So that's what we're not gonna do," he continues, shifting his stance and tilting his head. "It's time to head up to our room."
For once, I'm inclined to agree with him. Have pigs started flying? Did Sal miraculously become a nice person in some alternate universe? The world is spinning off its axis.
Ash turns her head over her shoulder, her hair slapping Larry in the face. She's wearing a pretty pout, eyebrows furrowed and lips puckered in disappointment. "But I want to go gamble and walk around. Larry wants to, too. Right, Lar?"
When she looks back at Larry, he's too busy pulling strands of Ash's hair out of his mouth to even realize he's been brought into the conversation.
Sal and Todd simultaneously sigh.
"Do they... do this often?" I ask no one in particular, staring at the pair that start bickering. It's kind of wholesome, actually. Ash is fussing at Larry for not moving out of the way when her hair swung around and Larry's just telling her about how pretty and soft each little strand is.
Todd casts me a glance. "Every time we go out somewhere. Every single time." He bites into his cheek, turning his attention back to Larry and Ash to keep an eye on them. "Sal and I have to parent them. We're just lucky that they somehow have some common sense packed into their brains even when they're drunk."
"Larry is even more of an issue when he has alcohol in his system though," Sal murmurs, adding on to Todd's overview of drunk nights with The Faces. "His actions are already questionable when he's sober, but when he's drunk, there's nothing holding him back."
Yea, I watched him decimate the entirety of today's photoshoot so I have no doubt that he's capable of some pretty bad things when the consequences don't matter.
Wincing, I nod subtly. Maybe letting Ash and Larry wander around, even with the three of us watching them, isn't such a great idea. This wouldn't be a good look for them online, especially if they would end up getting involved in some risky (cough, illegal) business.
"Hey, Larry," Ash whispers loudly. "Do you still have weed? Or like... something better?"
"Hell yea, I do!" Larry chirps back to the beauty, squeezing her arm closer to him. "We're in Vegas, baby, it's time to live it up!"
I dip my head down, pursing my lips. Todd flinches and Sal jumps into action, walking up to the two and grabbing their arms. It's definitely time to bring them up to the room. "Hey," Sal snaps, but ultimately lowers his voice after checking to see if anyone was watching us. "Let's not do this right now. Come on, you two can do whatever the fuck you want in our room, but not here."
Watching Sal take on the authoritative role for Ash and Larry is... something. He's obviously worried for them, trying to keep their reputations intact. He's handling them with care too, tactfully gaining their attention with physical touch. Keeping eye contact while he talks to them. He really must do this often.
We somehow manage to convince Ash and Larry to get into the elevators. I think what really got them to comply was our promise to let them be once we finally get to the suite. Right now, they're planning this slumber party. Where they're going to do it-- I have no idea. But Todd and I are carrying everyone's leftover food and clothes. Sal has a good grip on both of our drunk friends, his pale fingertips digging into their skin.
Poor little Sally Face does not seem impressed.
I don't really have an opinion on the current matter. Ash and Larry just want to have fun, but I can also understand why its stressful for Sal and Todd. Having to take care of them when they can't do it themselves. They're the designated dads. Not drivers-- dads.
Our ride up to the suite doesn't take too long and we don't run into many people, thankfully. I guess since it's evening, everyone's either in bed or getting lit in the casinos. No issue there. Makes things much easier for us.
By the time we burst through the doors of our suite, Ash has tears running down her face and Larry's a giggly-gaggly mess. They're on two opposite ends of the drunk spectrum. Ash is reminiscing on her past and Larry's just vibing.
I let out a quiet groan when I finally put the bags of leftover food and clothing down on the dining table. Todd's right next to me, pulling boxes from the plastic bags.
"Help Sally," he says, opening one of the boxes to see what's inside. "I've got this."
"Are you sure?" I ask, brows furrowing as I take a hesitant step away. Putting me and Sal together with a task to complete isn't exactly the best idea to exist.
Todd just hums, focused on his job. Okay then, that's fine. I'll just help Ash get ready for bed and Sal can take Larry to their room. It's not like I have to be stuck with the sexual bane of my existence.
Still, as I walk over to where Sal has corralled our friends into one section of the couch, I feel this nauseating sense of destruction slowly climbing up my spine. It's like a knife in the back, utter betrayal. It's a bit humorous given that I'm the one with the own knife to my back. I chose this.
Had I just never created this online persona, Sal and I never would have become this. The topic of y/n would have died with that one Youtube video. Nothing would have come of it-- I would be back in LA going to work and paying bills like I always have.
I don't think I regret making this decision, I just think I should have gone about this differently. Of course, I don't regret it-- just the thought of getting a second alone with Sal fills me with a kind of giddiness I've never experienced. But the fact that I'm still stuck arguing with this man constantly makes it all seem... not so worth it sometimes.
Ash suddenly looks up at me with her watery green eyes and I find that my depressing internal monologue is replaced with mind-numbing love almost instantly.
Things with Sal are weird and they kind of suck, but this was worth it. If I didn't start streaming, Ash and I would have gone much longer without seeing each other. And she's someone that will always be worth any struggle of mine.
"I don't feel good," Ash mumbles to me, her words slurred and her arms wrapped around her tummy.
I gulp. Okay, so that's not too good. I should have expected it too.
I grab onto Ash's wrists carefully. "I know, honey," I tell her softly, looking into those forest green eyes of hers. She's on the brink of tears. "Look, let's go to the bathroom. We'll sit in there for a while until you feel better." I try to keep my voice as light and comforting as possible. Feeling sick while you're drunk alters the mood so quickly and it sucks. All the freedom and happiness gets replaced by shackling anxiety and fear in a moment's notice.
"No," Ash yanks her hands away from me and curls in on herself. I glance at Sal who's watching the ordeal, sitting between Ash and his step-brother with his hand on Larry's back, trying to get him to sit up. And poor Larry looks like he's just about to fall asleep right here. "I don't want to throw up. I really don't wanna," Ash speaks again, pulling my attention away from our one-man audience.
I frown at my friend. Poor thing, I know that fear.
Instead of trying to force her to stand up, I scoot in beside Sal. It's not ideal, but I don't really care. If he has a problem with my thighs squished against his, which I doubt he does, he can just move.
I wrap my arm around Ash and pull her into my side. Her head plops onto my shoulder, a soft whimper leaving her lips the moment we touch. "I didn't say anything about throwing up, sweetheart," I coo, setting my head on top of hers. I run my hand over her hair, gently threading my fingers through her slightly tangled hair. "We can just go sit in there until you feel better. And if you do end up feeling so bad that you have to use the bathroom, we'll already be there. You can take a shower if you want."
She's quiet for a moment. I sit there, staring ahead at Todd who's opening his laptop on the dining table. At the same time, Sal sighs softly and uses his hip to forcefully push himself away from me and closer to Larry. It takes quite a lot to not roll my eyes.
One second he wants to fuck me, or something akin to that, and the next moment I'm carrying the bubonic plague, measles, and various other diseases. This guy needs to pick a struggle and go with it.
I feel Ash's head move up and down against my shoulder, so I glance down at her and frown at her quivering bottom lip. Sweet thing. I know she's just drunk, but seeing her so upset and feeling sick really pulls at my heartstrings.
"C'mon then," I murmur, rubbing my hand over her back before slowly standing up. Ash struggles to follow me, so I grab onto her elbows and shoulder most of her weight with a grunt.
With her tall stature, the force of her falling into me makes me stumble a bit. I blink through my struggle and keep a good grip on her, looking up at her as she purses her lips and wraps her arms around my shoulders. Okay, she's up. Now we just have to take the short walk to the restroom.
I tilt my head back down, making quick eye contact with Sal. He's bearing dead eyes and that forever numb-projecting prosthetic. But our gazes turn opposite ways in a moments notice. Not like I really care to begin with. I'm more worried about Ash than anything else.
Ash drags her feet to the bathroom, her arms latched around my neck as she voices unintelligible pleas to help her feel better. I feel like my heart is about to snap in two. It's hard to remind myself that she's okay when she seems so miserable like this.
After a couple seconds, I gently kick the bathroom door open and flick on the light. My eyes squint against the sudden brightness, but I still lead Ash into the room and shut the door behind us.
Sighing, I help lower Ash to the floor. Her legs are spread out in front of her and her pretty head is leaned against the wall behind her. "I feel so icky, Vi," she mumbles, the words slurred as they tumble from her lips.
I shrug halfheartedly. "At least 'Vi' is a default now," I whisper to myself. I'd have been fucked hours ago if she hadn't been calling me Vi all this time. "I know you feel yucky, love," I tell her, my voice a little louder for her to hear. I squat down in front of her, running a finger over her forehead to push a strand of hair away from her face.
Ash's vibrant green eyes open to glance over my face quickly, then they close again as a soft, pained moan falls from her pale lips. In fact, her entire face is a bit paler than it was moments ago.
I chew on the inside of my cheek. She needs to be closer to the toilet.
I gently grab onto her dainty hand and pull her over to the toilet, squatting beside her again. "Tell me if you feel sick, Ash," I say, pushing her hair behind her ears again. "You might feel better if you get it out."
She groans again, but her arms grab onto the back of the toilet almost instinctually. "I know, but it sucks so much," Ash admits.
I pinch my lips together, smiling tightly at her. "Trust me, I know," I reply, moving to stand behind her. I can't do much for her right now. She can't take any medicine with alcohol still in her system and I don't want to leave her to get a bottle of water. I'd hate to not be here for her if she does get sick. So I do the only thing I can do and gather her hair into my hands. I pull a ponytail from my wrist with the intention of wrapping it around her hair, but she cuts me off.
"Play with my hair," Ash whispers, head lolling to the side.
I smile a bit at that and let the band fall onto my wrist again. So Ash and I sit in silence while I run my fingers through her hair. I braid it, then undo it, twist it around my hands, then braid it again. It's a back and forth motion in loud quietude. But only for a few minutes.
The bathroom door flies open, the wood hitting the wall with a deja vu-like thunk. I can almost hear my dad running through the house to check out what happened in my memories.
Mine and Ash's heads both snap to observe whatever the hell is happening, but all I get to see is a blur of blue and brown. I hear the squeaking of quick footsteps, and then "Bathtub, bathtub, tub!"
My eyebrows scrunch together as I assess the situation. Not Larry too...
I swivel my head around like an owl to look at the tub just in time to watch Larry drunkenly dive into it like it's some kind of pool. Then the sickening sound of vomiting follows immediately after.
I suck in a breath, turning my gaze up to Sal. He's leaning over the ledge of the bathtub, his hands holding Larry's long hair away from his face.
"Oh, fuck," Ash groans, her voice shaky. My attention leaves Sal quickly upon hearing the inconspicuous alert she gives me. I gather her hair in my hands again and rub her back as she mimics Larry.
It's a mess and it sucks for all four of us.
After a couple minutes of what feels like a never-ending rendition of The Exorcist-style vomiting, but in double, both Larry and Ash are finally in the hard relaxation phase of their drunkenness. And hopefully it'll stay this way.
I sigh to myself, feeling relieved now that the worst part of this is over.
Ash is moaning and groaning about how gross she feels, and about how her teeth feel like fresh cement. Sal just leapt to his feet and bolted out of the bathroom, likely to get something for Larry.
"Here," I murmur to my friend, helping her to her feet. My hands are gently pushing on her arms, giving her some leverage to stand. She and I stumble over to the counter in the bathroom and I start looking for necessities. Because, oh, Ash, I understand. "What color is your toothbrush?" I ask her.
"Purple," she sighs. "For VioletViolence."
I blink, my gaze cutting to my friend who smiles gently. I can't help the smile that grows on my face either, or the way my cheeks warm up a bit.
"You're so silly," I giggle, opening up a drawer where... apparently all members of The Faces keep their toothbrushes? I just pack mine up in my suitcase every night. I guess they feel like family.
But I find the purple toothbrush pretty easily. It's glittery and a deep, dark purple. Just my style, in fact.
I put a bit of toothpaste onto the bristles, wet it (because what psychopath doesn't wet the toothbrush before brushing?) and then turn to my friend. "Open up," I chirp. "I'm playing dentist today."
Ash frowns at me. "But I hate the dentist," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest. "And what if I throw up on you?"
"Then I'll take a shower," I reply with a tilt of my head, trying to ease her worries. She seems to think of everything while drunk. Who stresses when they're drunk?-- well, Ash does, apparently.
At that moment, Sal walks into the bathroom again. He has a frantic, exhausted look in his bright blue eyes when they meet mine. For a moment, I'm wondering why he's even acknowledging me, but then he holds out a hand, gesturing to me. I narrow my eyes then look down, noting the bottle of cold water in his grip.
"For Ash," he says quietly, pushing the bottle closer to me.
"Oh." I snap myself out of my confused state and take the bottle from him, nodding. "Thanks."
I get nothing in response, but I expected as much. Sal simply turns his head back to poor Larry who's sitting on the edge of the bathtub and rushes over to give him some water.
The bathroom actually smells horrid, but I power through just like the other three people in the room are doing. Sal's getting Larry ready for bed and I'm doing the same with Ash. Both of us silently and simultaneously prep our friends for a good night's sleep. Hopefully. Even though I know they're both going to wake up with the worst case of acid reflux known to man-- headaches and body aches too. But they'll be fine.
It doesn't take me long to brush Ash's teeth. The time consuming part was trying to stop her from biting down on the toothbrush-- and my fingers.
At long last, which is only five minutes later, I rinse Ash's toothbrush and hand her the bottle of water that Sal so graciously brought.
"I'm going to go grab some clothes for you, 'kay?" I inform Ash, putting her toothbrush back into the drawer near the sink. I help move her over to sit on the floor so Larry can brush his teeth or use some mouthwash-- I don't know. Something.
Ash sleepily grumbles in acknowledgement of my statement. I'll just take that as an 'okay.'
I grab onto the doorknob with the intention of slipping out then quickly slipping back in, but Sal calls to me.
I pause, turning my head over my shoulder to look at him. He's holding Larry up with one arm and digging in the same drawer I just returned Ash's toothbrush to with the other. He glances up at me, hair falling into his eyes and forming a halo around his forever expressionless prosthetic. "Can you get Larry some clothes too?" He asks, looking down at the drawer again. "He's sleeping farthest from the door. Stay away from my shit," he tacks on.
I roll my eyes. Typical Sal behavior. But I reply with a quick, "Sure." It's not about Sal and I fighting right now, it's about making sure that our mutual friends are safe and comfortable.
My heart beats a little faster when I slip out of the bathroom and quickly grab a change of clothes for Ash in our shared room. She already had her pajamas laid out and ready to go, so I didn't even have to go looking. But walking to Sal and Larry's room puts me on edge. Something about being in a place that Sal would never even allow me to get a glimpse of in any other situation is both invigorating and terrifying. Imagine I still pick the wrong bed by accident? Suppose I knock over his guitar or something? These are high stakes.
I swallow the anxiety building in my belly and throw open the bedroom door, trying to keep my eyes downcast as I walk to the bed occupying the far end of the spacious room. Todd must have gone to bed by now, that or he's doing work in his room. He wasn't in the dining room when I passed it. Somehow, that makes being in here feel criminal.
If I snooped, no one would know.
But I'm not a fucking idiot, so that's not even on my bucket list of things to do in Vegas. I'm already on Sal's shit-list. I don't want him to put me even higher on it-- though, maybe working my way up that list might make for a good hate-fuck or something...
A side-tracked mind results in borrowed time. And my borrowed time is probably going to end up with Sal murdering me in my sleep if I take any longer.
I still can't help but look up though. Just to see something. To keep my knowledge of this room a secret forever.
My eyes glaze over the entirety of the room as I reach Larry's bed. The mattress itself is cleared, but all of his clothes are thrown on top of his suitcase that's hiding beside his bed. My guess is that Sal told him to clean up the place and this was Larry's definition of "clean."
I sink to my knees and dig under Larry's pile of clothes. There's a couple pairs of shirts and shorts still folded way at the bottom of his suitcase, so I grab those and then pinch the waistband of a pair of boxers between my index and thumb. I have no idea if they're clean and I have no desire to find out if they're dirty.
I fold the clothes under my arm then acknowledge the room once more. It's pasty white, as are the beds. But I pay closer attention to Sal's side of the room for... reasons.
There's a glass of water on his bedside table. I have no idea what it's there for. Maybe he gets thirsty at night. But there's also a guitar case leaning up against his bed. His suitcase rests neatly on top of the white comforter on his bed, all his clothes folded to perfection and stacked inside. He's so much more organized than Larry. In fact, he'd have been better off rooming with Todd.
It's so... normal. And I didn't think his belongings would be normal. I didn't think his room would look so domestic. I half-expected to find a blue wig hanging off the bed post, or taxidermy animals, or furniture made from skin-- inspired by Ed Gein, of course.
But he's normal. Hell, he seems more normal to me right now than Larry given the different states of each half of this room.
I swallow down the odd feeling of having different results than I'd originally expected. It's not saddening, it's just... weird.
My time here is done though, so I quickly skitter out of the bedroom, shut the door behind me, and speed-walk back to the bathroom.
When I walk in, I happen upon another thing I didn't originally expect to see tonight. Or ever, for that matter.
Sal's standing on the toilet seat, all focus and dedication as he carefully brushes Larry's teeth for him. Much like I did for Ash earlier. I don't even know how to react upon seeing the scenario because Larry's even holding onto Sal's waist. It makes me want to laugh my ass off, but it's also kinda cute. Seeing them work together and not caring about how others perceive it is just sweet. But it's still fucking hilarious.
My eyes tear up a bit as I try to hold in the laughter bubbling up my throat. For God's sake, I need to get out of here before I lose it.
I put Larry's clothes onto the bathroom counter then drag Ash into a standing position. "Larry's clothes are near the sink," I say, my voice wavering as I try to bite down the giggle that so desperately wants to be released.
Sal answers me with a nonchalant, emotionless, "'kay."
I puff out my cheeks as I help Ash over to her room, biting my lips to hold in my little giggles. But once I finally get us both inside and shut the door, I let the giggles flow. Not like anyone but Ash can hear me anyway.
"What are you laughing at?" Ash asks, her words drawn out and so, so soft. I lift her shirt over her head and push her arms through the new shirt I'd grabbed for her. "Do I look ugly?"
"No, no. You're gorgeous, as always," I quickly say, grabbing onto the collar of the shirt and pulling down until her head pops through the hole. Her hair is a static-y mess and splattered across her face. "I'm just laughing at the position I found Sally and Larry in earlier." I use a finger to brush strands of hair out of her face, then I run my fingers through it to tame the frizz.
"Oh, yea," Ash opens her watery, sleepy viridian eyes. "I saw that. Sal wanted Larry to sit for him but Lar said something about not wanting to hurt the bacteria living on his skin." Ash squints her eyes in obvious confusion, then closes them again.
Larry is so ridiculous. He's just like Ash-- worrying about things that don't need to be worried about. Come on, body bacteria?
I just shake my head, smiling at my sweet Ashy-poo while she unfastens the button on her cargo pants before shimmying her way out of them. They get stuck around her ankles, so I kneel down and gently pull them off of her.
But then she drops her panties without even an ounce of a warning to me.
I spin on my heels and purse my lips. I take it she's got the rest of this on her own.
I let Ash do her thing, tapping my feet against the ground and acting like this isn't my room too. Just puts me in an odd position knowing that Ash is just... yea.
With the way I'm standing, arms crossed and posted up awkwardly, I feel like a guard. Or a princess's personal knight. Damn, I actually wish I was the princess to that dark knight from earlier.
Oh, no. Now Larry's gotten the Batman reference stuck in my head forever.
Speaking of Larry, he and Sal are suddenly in the doorway and Ash is still getting dressed behind me-- crap.
I rush up to the two men and slap my hands over their eyes. Not that it matters much considering that Sal is wearing a prosthetic and Larry's so tall that his head almost hits the top of the door frame.
"What the fuck?" Sal gripes, grabbing onto my wrist and yanking it off of his face.
He glares at me, eyes so incredibly close that I can see all the different shades of blue populating his irises. I'm momentarily distracted, which ends up sucking because Sal's eyes snap to Ash.
They widen, meeting my own eyes again. And then he does the last thing I'd ever expect-- which seems to be my motto tonight. He grabs my hand and slaps it back over his eyes.
I take a breath, trying to calm the panic that's wreaking havoc on my body.
"What the hell are you two doing in here?" I snap at the boys, blinking at their stone-still figures. Sal and I are shoulder-to-shoulder, but since my arm is raised, it's more like chest-to-chest. And the same goes for Larry, but that somehow doesn't matter as much.
Sal huffs. "Larry wants to sleep with Ash tonight. It's.. it's their drunk thing," he grumbles, though his voice is a tad shaky which suggests that he might be nervous with a little spoonful of shocked.
"Okay, well, drunk ritual or not," I say pointedly. "You could've knocked."
"Fuck off," Sal bites out, but his rebuttal is weak. He knows he can't fight this, and he knows he's in the wrong either way.
I turn my head over my shoulder to see if Ash is done changing. She finally has underwear on-- thank God-- but she's struggling with her sweats now.
Not like these guys haven't seen Ash in panties before, I suppose.
I rush over to my pretty friend and help her as best as I can by grabbing the waistband of her sweatpants. She bounces on her toes, trying to work the fabric up her legs. And I almost giggle when I realize the boys haven't moved farther into the room. Poor Sal must still be recovering.
Once Ash finally has her pants on, I guide her to the bed and pull the blankets back, helping her to flop onto the clean sheets.
"Take my pants off," she whines, scrunching her face up as she rubs her legs all over the mattress, stretching her arms over her head.
Sighing, I place my hands on my hips and stare down at her. Sal has finally walked over to the side of the bed that I sleep on, trying to help Larry get under the blankets as well. "Larry can help you out of your sweatpants, I just got you into them," I tell Ash, watching as she sticks out her bottom lip in an adorable pout.
"Well then get in bed, I'm tired," she murmurs a bit more, rolling over to throw an arm and a leg around Larry. And Larry, in turn, wraps an arm around her waist and buries his face into her neck. It's quite cute. I can't help but smile at the sweet embrace.
"There's no room for me, lovebug," I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight. Get some rest, okay? I'll see you in the morning."
Before I leave. And then not for another long period of time which hurts so, so bad. I gulp down those words before they can leave my mouth though. I don't want to make Ash feel bad for anything. She had fun tonight-- we all did.
"But how will I make it through the night without you?" Ash asks, starting to stir a bit. Larry looks so comfy, I don't want either of them to interrupt their positions or their sleep.
"The same way you always have, honey," I say solemnly, leaning over to run my hand over her hair. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. You're a strong, brave girl."
"Yea." She yawns, settling in beside Larry again. "You're right. I'm strong and brave."
"Vi, just sleep in my bed. Don't rot on Sal's smoking couch," Larry slurs, his voice muffled from Ash's shoulder.
"Fuck no," Sal instantly bites out. I glance to him, noting his arms that are crossed over his chest and the disdain in his eyes that are shadowed by the darkness of the room.
For once, I can agree. I absolutely will not sleep in the same room as Sal. That's the very last place I want to be on my final day in Las Vegas. The smurf would slit my throat.
"No, that's okay, Lar." I wave him off even though he can't see it. I'd much rather take the couch, especially since I suddenly feel like crying. I have to leave everyone tomorrow. No matter how many nights I've slept wrapped up in Ash's limbs and no matter how long I've gotten to hang around Larry and Todd, it still just doesn't feel like anywhere near long enough. And tomorrow, I'll be back in LA. Back to where I was before. To where we all were before. Distanced and displaced.
"Vi, don't fight me," Larry sighs, squeezing the fabric of Ash's shirt in his fist. "It is my dying wish for you to sleep in my bed. And don't let Sal scare you off either. He couldn't harm a fly, let alone a pretty girl like you."
Pretty girl. That's what Sal called me earlier. Maybe he stole that line from Larry.
I lick my dry lips and swallow down the lump in my throat. I'll appease him with agreement and take the couch anyway. It's not like he'll remember telling me to sleep in his bed anyway. But I just need to be away from the things that make me want to cry. Sal makes me want to do multiple things, so I'll just attach him to that list anyway.
"Fine, fine." I push the words past trembling lips, trying to ignore the way that the weight I've been ignoring for the past couple hours is suddenly starting to crash down on me.
"You guys fucking suck," Sal hisses, uncrossing his arms and moving to the door. And even though he's voicing his opposition, he hasn't fought against the plan for me to occupy Larry's bed. He's just... going with it. If anything, it seems like he's complaining just to keep up appearances. There's just no bite to his words.
Weird. But whatever.
I roll my eyes at Sal to try and ignore my own concerns about his behavior. I was sad a moment ago, I don't want to circle back to confused. Or maybe I do? I don't even know anymore. I think I'm officially starting to go crazy.
"Um," I voice, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I look down at my two cuddling friends. "Thanks for the bed, Lar. And don't hesitate to call if you need anything. Both of you."
"Yep," Ash mumbles, followed by Larry who says, "Night."
Well, that's that. And I can't hold off the awkward moment where Sal and I are going to walk out of this room together.
I turn on my heel, keeping my head down as I walk over to where Sal's at. But he's already swung the door open and stepped out, making his way into the dining room.
I close the door softly behind me, making sure to switch off the light right before it's fully closed. I guess it's time to move to the couch. I'd really appreciate Larry's pillows and blanket now, come to think of it. I'm basically a kitten stranded in a tundra-- I can't sleep in this place without a blanket.
Aware that I might get my head bitten off, I awkwardly walk over to the dining room and peek around the wall, eyeing Sal who grabs another bottle of water from the fridge, but this time it's for him.
He turns to walk to his room, no doubt, but finds me standing there watching him. Which only makes me feel even creepier than I did a moment ago. I should've just said something, but he's constantly so hot and cold. I'm walking on eggshells here.
"Would you, um," I purse my lips, trying to think of a way to put my thoughts into word form. "Could you bring Larry's blanket and one of his pillows to me? I'm just going to sleep on the couch." I try to keep my voice as even as possible. I don't want him to know that my thoughts are taking over every inch of me like a never-ending typhoon. That I feel so out of control right now with no way to organize my emotions.
His eyes go from wary to disbelieving. "Don't be weird about it," he says, a tad aggravated. "Just take his bed. I don't care."
"You really think I'm just going to sleep in the same room as you?" I ask him, quite seriously in fact. He must know how much I don't trust him.
He seems to raise an eyebrow beneath his prosthetic as he tightens his hold on the bottle in his hands. The plastic crinkles, the sound echoing through the large room. Disrupting the quiet. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you. The most you'll get is fucked, like I said I'd do earlier."
My immediate reaction is a tongue-in-cheek, wide-eyed stare in his direction. He was serious about that earlier? Even after I pelted him with paintballs? Or is this his way of getting back at me for covering him in paint? Hell, neither of us have gotten a chance to change out of the tactical gear we left the shoot in.
At least I have the clothes I originally wore sitting on the dining table. I can change into those later.
I take a deep breath and hold onto it for a moment. Sal watches me, waiting for a response. In truth, this is the kind of distraction I need right now. To ignore all the guilt and sadness building up in me. Fuck the pain away, I guess.
"Okay," I say, attempting to sound more sure of myself rather than bashful and fucking shy. Of all things. I sucked him off earlier. He's had his fingers in my pussy. I couldn't be more sure about disappearing into his room with him-- but something just makes me feel... "Lead the way."
He doesn't say a word. Simply walks past me and into the hallway, heading for the door to his room at the end of the hallway. So I follow him, tiptoeing behind him and keeping my distance because I'm still wary. For all I know, he could open that door and then slam it shut in my face.
Very Sal of him. I wouldn't be surprised.
But when we do make it to the room (and we get there way too quickly), Sal opens the door and he leaves it open, allowing me to walk in behind him.
He looks at me for a moment, watches me come to a stop a few steps away from him.
And just when I'm beginning to rethink my decision of coming in here with him, the air in the room suddenly shifts. The situation I'm in feels primal now, like I'm being hunted. And again, I'm shocked by how quickly Sal's able to diffuse an awkward situation. He hasn't even said a word, hasn't even touched me. All he's done is tilt his head down a bit and change his stance-- the action so small that I hardly even noticed it.
He walks past me, so close that his shoulder brushes against mine as he aims for the door. A chill erupts along my spine and images and ideas of all the other places he could touch me take over my brain like a disease.
Sal slowly shuts the door, the lock falling into place with a soft click. Everything feels tense. He's standing there, I'm standing here. I know he's going to walk over here and dominate me to pieces soon. I'm so enthralled in the idea alone that I don't know what to do with myself. All of the pain I felt just moments ago is gone. Disappeared into thin air.
And I couldn't be happier.
He turns to me after locking the door, but never moves. Only stares. His blue eyes seem dim in the bright room, the ceiling lights reflecting off of his white and pink prosthetic. One veiny, ring-clad hand, decorated with bracelets, rests at his side while the other is safely tucked away inside his pocket. His stance isn't rigid, but it's on guard. It's waiting for a singular move from me to set this plan into motion.
The air condition blows a few strands of his cerulean hair, making him bring a hand up to push it away from his eyes. But other than that, he just stares my way.
I stare back, fidgeting with my fingers and lightly tapping my foot against the ground. Maybe Sally changed his mind all of a sudden. Maybe he doesn't want to do anything with me; he may just want to go to bed. And that's perfectly fine, I mean, I'm leaving in a few hours now anyway. It's uncharacteristic of him to change his mind when it comes to anything sexual, but who knows. He may have lost interest.
Sal's head tilts to the side a bit. "Are you just going to stand there?" He asks, voice coated in a mixture of agitation and hidden expectations. "Are we going to continue where we left off or are we going to go to bed hating each other as always?"
I purse my lips, picking at my fingernails. "Even if we continue, we'll still go to bed hating each other." I look off to the side, a little miffed over his words. We can't stand each other, even if all we crave lately is each other.
"Might as well have some fun before the hate then, right?" Sal says matter-of-factly, seemingly waiting for my consent. "I remember saying something about scaring your fantasies away, after all."
Adrenaline fills up every inch of my body. It happens so quickly, so viscerally. The only thing I can do is squeeze my thighs together and chew on my lip. Otherwise, I'd probably do something weird and ruin this entire moment. "Show me what you've got then. Because I still don't believe you," I say, my voice low and on the quiet side.
Sal takes that as his cue and closes the distance between us. I assume he'll start off like he did last night, but he takes me by surprise instead.
He grabs me by the nape of my neck, sneering to himself. His strong hands force me to turn around and then he slams me into the vanity against the wall, his painted nails digging into my skin.
I hiss when my chest and face press into the dark oak surface beneath me. I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch my lips together, trying to stay quiet. There was so much in that one little push— so much dominance, anger, even satisfaction. On the other hand, my mask is pinching into the side of my face. It even lifted up to uncover the tip of my nose. I move my hands to hold onto the edge of the vanity, using one to quickly fix my mask.
My heart screams in my chest. He can't see me. Could he have seen me? And he couldn't recognize me just by the tip of my nose, right?
Sal leans over me. His warmth envelops me so quickly and I suck in a breath, shivering when his hair brushes along my jaw. One of his hands is still clutching the back of my neck and the other comes down harshly against my ass. I flinch at the contact, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth to contain whatever filthy sound that was about to be released.
Things have taken a dark turn and I'm here for it.
"You keep testing me. Every single day. Can't you shut up for once?" he hisses into my ear while his lower half presses into me from behind. More specifically, his thick cock against my ass. The only thing separating our skin is our cargo pants that are covered in neon paint splotches.
He presses down on my neck, pushing my face into the cold wood. "You think you're all special and pampered because I went easy on you last night, don't you?" He harshly says, grip tightening. "You haven't seen even a fraction of what I'm capable of. And I'm not sure you're ready either."
I snort. He doesn't know a single thing about me. This is what I want— I want to be scared. I want to be hurt. Doesn't he realize?
"And honestly, I don't give a fuck whether you're prepared or not. You're walking into my world now." His voice is an aggressive whisper in my ear, making goosebumps rise along my skin. His hand moves from my neck to grab at my hair, right against my scalp. He gives a tight yank, causing me to tilt my head up and arch my back to relieve some of the pain.
My mouth falls open as I stare at him through the mirror before me. He's hovering over me with the most devilish look in his pretty blue eyes. His hand in my hair, the other resting on my butt. He looks like he has perfect control over the situation.
"Do you wish to proceed?" He asks, this time more seriously, taking a second to focus on consent before continuing.
"Not if you talk like that, Todd Morrison," I rasp out, grinning mischievously at his reflection.
His eyes narrow in response. "I'm serious, Vi," he growls out.
My own eyes roll in response while butterflies kick up in my belly. "Fine," I murmur. "Yes, I want to do this." The words tumble from my lips so effortlessly. It was so hard for me last night, even just a few moments ago, but seeing our position fills me with anticipation. I can't pass up such an offer when he already has me bent over a piece of furniture. This is a dream come true.
Sal hums, the vibration transferring from his chest into my entire body, making some unknown exhilaration soar to life within me. I grip onto the edges of the vanity, trying to hold myself together. But the truth is that I'm falling apart in his hands. The world around me is absolutely nothing-- I have no worries, no thoughts so long as he continues to touch me.
He drags his fingers from my scalp to the end of my hair and wraps it around his fist before shoving my face back into the wood. Thankfully, this time he's a bit gentler so I can adjust my mask by simply moving my face against the wood. "Give me a safe word," he commands hoarsely, palm running up my ass to the top of my pants.
I let out a breath, finding it hard to get in a good dose of oxygen at the moment. His touch is so rough, but nowhere near enough at the same time. I want to feel him everywhere. I want him underneath my skin-- something. Anything more than just this little bit he's giving me.
"Safe word?" My heart skips a beat. "So we're getting really slutty then."
"I won't say it again," Sal warns, absolutely done with my antics. "Don't test me. I'll fuck the brat right out of you."
His words make a shiver crawl up my spine. Yum, how fun.
I shut my eyes again and release another shaky breath. "Okay, uh," I trail off, taking a moment to ponder. Coming up with safe words is always so hard, especially when I'm put on the spot. Naturally, my first thought is to make it something that only he and I will understand. We don't have many memories, but we've done some dirty stuff, so we do have a couple things in common. I think he's hot and hopefully the same goes for him.
"Time's ticking," Sal says, voice monotonous but much deeper than it was seconds ago. Patience wearing thin.
The only thing that comes to mind is the argument that Larry and Sal had the day I got to Caesar's Palace. And then an image of Sal and Larry dressed as deer follow the memory.
"Twitterpated," I quickly spit out, gulping down the flash of embarrassment that's overcome me. I don't want to risk having this moment ended because I couldn't come up with a simple safe word. How ridiculous would that be? The one I chose is ridiculous in and of itself.
Sal snorts quietly. "Alright. Twitterpated. You say that, everything stops. I say that, everything stops. Got it?" He asks me, wrapping his arm around my waist and fumbling with the buttons on my pants.
I lick my lips while my heart jumps into my throat. "Got it."
"Prove it," Sal says, fingers squeezing my hair tight.
My mouth gapes open when a spark of pain ignites along my scalp. It renders me speechless for a moment while I relish in the blissful feeling. "Twitterpated," I say, loud enough for him to hear even though I feel so breathless.
Sal's hands stop. One moves away from my pants and the other untangles itself from my hair, but he still hovers over me. "Good girl," he purrs. "Ready to continue?"
I swallow thickly, my cheeks turning a dark shade of red over the praise. My breasts uncomfortably squish into the vanity while I impatiently wait for Sal to touch me again. "Yes," I say softly, eager to see where this goes.
Without a second of hesitation, Sal's hands are back where they were a moment ago. Only now, he's quickly and effectively undone the buttons on my pants. He hooks his fingers into the waistband, gives a quick tug, and then the fabric is pooling around my legs.
"Pick up your feet," he demands, bending away from me to grab the piece of clothing. His cool fingers lightly trail down my thighs and calves, making an involuntary shiver take hold of my body. He knows exactly what he's doing. That much is obvious when he drops to his haunches and wraps one large, ring-clad hand around the top of my thigh. His fingertips brush the edge of my panties and I feel like I've lost all ability to breathe.
I lift one foot at a time, letting him to pull the article out from under me. He haphazardly throws my pants to the side before returning to me, one hand still wrapped around my thigh and the other palming my bare ass like it's some kind of science project. "How pretty," he purrs, fingers dancing over my skin— down the inside of my thigh then between my legs, teasing my clothed pussy. His index finger presses into my clit with purpose and I flinch, heart racing as I press my legs together. The light touches and teasing make me want to whimper, but I refuse to give in so quickly.
Sal hums amusedly, pulling his hand away from my core to drag it up my back. "You're behaving so well. How long will that last?" He muses. His hand trails down to my underwear again. For a moment, every one of my bodily functions stops. He ripped my panties apart last night, who's to say he won't do it again?
But thankfully, Sal only pulls those down my legs too, allowing me to step out of them.
I let out a little breath of relief, blinking at the cream wall to the side of me. "It'll last as long as you let it. Up to you," I tell him. He must be able to tell that I'm holding on by a thread from the sound of my voice.
"As long as I let it?" He repeats my words, forming them into a question. I can feel his hard dick twitch against my bare ass, the feeling of it sends a shock through my body and straight to my core. My chest feels heavy with satisfaction as I shut my eyes and lick my lips. He's just as enraptured as I am-- the knowledge of that will never not fill me with an insatiable amount of pleasure.
"Treat me well and we'll see how long I can keep up the good behavior," I say quickly, trying to hide how affected I am, though there's no reason to do so. If I wasn't so worried about looking like an idiot, I'd be panting like a dog right now.
I hear a grunt behind me, his fingers flexing against my skin and scalp. "I don't treat anyone well. This is all for me and you'll do well to know that. Now shut the fuck up."
My eyes are still closed when his hand wraps around my waist and moves down to my swollen clit, his fingers expertly teasing the bud. He's skilled. Knows what makes me tick and what gets me going. He's only done this to me once before so I can only guess that he just has a good amount of experience.
Sal's fingers leave my clit, exploring downward to dip into me just a bit, soaking up all the wetness that had collected between my folds. The light intrusion is both unbearable and incredibly pleasing, I can't decide what I want to feel.
My thighs unintentionally squeeze together as my emotions battle each other. I've been waiting for this all day. He's only just brushing the surface of this experience and I feel like I'm going to fall apart. Hell, maybe I've already fallen apart but my pride won't allow me to acknowledge it.
"And there we are," he suddenly grinds out between clenched teeth, the sound of his aggressive tone spooking me momentarily. "Keep your legs open."
"Or?" I say without thinking.
I open my eyes when Sal's fingers leave my folds. Then his feet push my legs apart, keeping my feet firmly planted into the carpet with his own legs. My pussy is on full display for him, my back arched and ass pressed into him.
"I told you to shut the fuck up," he hisses quietly, voice so dangerous and delicious. His prosthetic face is right beside mine and I flinch at his words and our proximity, a little thrum of unease passing through me. It's soon replaced by excitement though.
Suddenly, without warning and despite my initial worry, Sal plunges a finger into me. And he doesn't stop.
Everything moves insanely quickly and I feel like my eyes are going to pop out of my head, that or I'm going to cry— in a good way. Sal's finger thrusts into me at an unforgivably fast pace and each time he sinks into my pussy again, a garbled moan falls from my lips.
The skin of his wrist repeatedly slaps into my ass, creating more friction and tension. There's so much happening— his fingers in me, his skin on mine, his hand buried in my hair.
I squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering when he curls his finger at just the right angle, sending a rush of pleasure through my entire body. I shiver, digging my fingers into the wooden surface beneath me.
Sal yanks my head up by my hair, forcing me to look at this salacious scene through the mirror in front of us. I can see him, bent over me with his prosthetic lips pressed into the side of my head and his arm moving so quickly behind me, so brutal and unrelenting.
The feelings that build up within me hit hard. There's the cliff I'm trying to chase, the one I want to jump over. Reach the peak. Anything to feel more of what he's giving me.
"Look at yourself," Sal says breathlessly, his eyes meeting my own through the mirror as he turns his head, keeping his cheek pressed against mine. "Dirty little whore. You like being used. You like being disobedient. You like being broken," he says these words to me, each syllable coming out in a light, controlled pant. He's definitely enjoying myself. "I'll break you if that's what you want," he continues, finger curling into me again. "But it comes at a price."
My eyes roll into the back of my head. If I could form words, I'd tell him "please" but lucky for him, I'm afraid to open my mouth. With his finger slamming into me like this, I'd wake up the entire suite. I don't trust myself and I sure as shit don't trust him, but what I do trust is his ability to make me cum. He's good at it, after all.
"Come on," he growls out, yanking my hair a bit more. I'm forced to bend my neck due to his grip. My back is pressed against his chest, there's no way for me to move to find some kind of solace. And still, I'm quickly gaining on an orgasm that only he can bring me to.
My legs squeeze together of their own accord, but his thighs keep them from completely closing. He's still pumping his finger into me at that same, beautifully addicting pace that he started at. I think I'm seeing stars.
"You gonna cum for me like a good bitch?" he rasps out, squeezing my hair tighter in his hand. I only moan as quietly as I can in response, still not trusting my ability to speak. Even then, the sound was still easy to hear.
"Speak," Sal commands, hooking his finger into me yet again. He's buried deep, to the hilt with his hand cupping the bottom of my butt and his finger moving quickly inside me. It's overwhelming in the most amazing way. My heart flutters in my chest, already running a marathon regardless. My lungs can't hold in a good breath and my limbs are quaking furiously.
"Yes," I say hoarsely, reaching my arms up to grab onto the back of his hair. I need to hold onto something; pleasure doesn't come to me in sections right now, it's one huge tidal wave that ceases to end. I'm practically drowning in the oncoming orgasm. "Please, I'm so close," I groan, biting down on my bottom lip while squeezing my eyes tightly.
Sal's neck is pressed against mine. I can feel every breath he takes, feel every little grunt that leaves his throat. His skin is hot, a little sweaty. His azure hair is mixed with mine. My mask and his prosthetic are cheek-to-cheek. I can't tell if the deep breaths and panting I'm hearing are coming from me or him.
"Really?" He says, voice condescending. Each syllable reverberates through my entire body, only pushing me even closer to the edge. I don't have enough time to focus on him— the end is in sight and he's thrusting his finger so hard, so deep, so fast. Just one more—
But there's never another thrust. When he pulls his finger back, it leaves me completely. And then I'm feeling empty, out of breath, fluttery all over, and quite frankly, a little pissed off.
I open my eyes, looking up at Sal through the mirror. His gaze travels over the image of my body before meeting mine in the reflection. "I told you all good things come with a price," he says, probably reading the negative emotions in my gaze. "You don't get to cum until I say you do."
Eyes dark with desire, malice, and sinful intentions, Sal lets go of me and turns his head. My hands fall to my sides as I watch him take a step or two away from me. "Move and I'll kick you out," he grunts out quickly. "You're going to be a fucking problem with all the touching," he continues, moving away from the vanity and out of my line of vision. I stay rooted in my spot, orgasm slowly fading away from me and being replaced by an almost painful yearning in my gut. Fuck, how dare he.
But from the sound of it, he's not finished. He just has an issue with me touching him. He said something about that earlier today too, which, fine. Hard limit— okay. I won't touch. I just wish he would get back here and finish what he started because I'm about to go feral.
I can hear what sounds like metal clanking together quietly behind me, and then Sal reappears in the mirror with a leather belt in his hand. I can't help but tense up my entire body, mind going blank.
There's a little glimmer of amusement in his cerulean eyes when he notices my reaction, so he holds the belt up, shaking it a bit. "This scare you?" He asks, but I shake my head, gulping down the exhilaration that threatens to practically crawl out of my skin. I'm so excited.
"It should," he says pointedly, tilting his head down slightly to intimidate me. And... okay, it definitely works. I've never done this type of thing with him before so this could go one of two ways. But I don't say anything, I just stare back at him, lips parted while I try to catch my breath.
Sal blinks then looks down at my bare ass. "Do you like pain?" He mumbles, running a teasing finger down the slope of my butt.
"Yes," is what I reply with, my voice shaking and my thoughts completely clouded. It's like we've gone the complete opposite way from last night. I couldn't get a word out yesterday— too nervous and embarrassed. But now I'd do anything to make him touch me, hurt me. Anything.
His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, then he lifts that belt and swings it down, the leather cracking against the skin of my ass harshly.
I yelp and jolt away from him instinctually, my hips slamming into the wooden vanity. My eyes shut as pain closes in on me from all sides and I grip onto the oak in front of me, taking a slow breath.
Then comes the good part, the satisfying feeling of being hurt. The wetness that gathers on my folds, the delightful queasy feeling in my tummy that spreads through my chest all the way to my toes.
I lick my lips, blinking my eyes open when a pleasurable cry threatens to build in my throat.
I'm too close to the vanity to tilt my head up and look at Sal's reflection, but that doesn't stop him. He takes a step toward my retreated figure, palm enveloping the skin he'd just abused. His fingers expertly massage my sore butt, only bringing out more feelings for me to indulge in.
"Well, aren't you fun," he purrs into my ear, chuckling softly. He pulls my hands off of the vanity, putting my wrists together against my back. Then, he moves his hand from my ass to the spot between my shoulder blades and pushes my upper body down onto the surface of the wooden dresser. "Stay there. Be good." His words are drowned out the second he wraps that leather belt around my wrists like he's done it a thousand times before.
He loops the fabric around one wrist, then does the same to the other, leaving absolutely no wiggle room for me to get out. Next, he puts one end through the belt buckle and yanks it tight, making the leather pinch my skin uncomfortably. I hiss at the feeling, squeezing my hands into fists as a spear of gratification stabs into me. This is borderline embarrassing, but definitely worth it.
Sal huffs out a quick, disbelieving laugh at my reaction, his hands pulling harshly at the belt to make sure I won't be able to get out. "I guess I underestimated you," he acknowledges, albeit he does so hesitantly, like he hates to admit that he may have been wrong. "Maybe I can't scare you off. Maybe you've been a freak all along."
His hands spread over my back and to my waist, dragging up my sides and pushing my shirt up with it. His cold, nimble fingers trail over my ribs slowly, feeling each bone and every inch of my heated flesh. Then, two of his fingers push into the skin right below my breast on the left side of my body. I clench my teeth together when a dull ache follows the action. He found the bruise that his paintballs left on me earlier today.
"Did I hurt you?" He asks, tone patronizing in a way that would cause an instant fight in any other situation. Being belittled in this scenario is oddly satisfying in a way I can't quite explain though.
Sal leans over me again, his hard cock rubbing over my skin. His fingers are still gripping my sides as he whispers to me, "I'd bite that bruise if I could-- make you hurt even more."
A groan is ripped from my lips despite how badly I wish I could have kept it hidden within me. I really wish he would bite me.
As quickly as he'd grown closer to me, he pulls away. But this time, I hear the rustling of clothing and my breath is stolen from me again. I can hear my heart, feel it beat in my fingertips. This is it, the moment I've been waiting for for... well, weeks now.
My legs quake in anticipation when Sal presses a hand onto my lower back, settling me against the vanity. And he doesn't say a word-- neither do I when I feel the soft skin of the head of his dick pressing gently against my cunt. I bite into my bottom lip, my head feeling fuzzy as adrenaline grips me.
I push myself backwards, hopefully discreetly enough to the point that Sal's unable to tell, but just the very tip of him sinks into my pussy from my motions. A shaky whimper comes from Sal and it's so quiet that it seems to have been ripped from him, like he hated to even make a sound so soon.
"Stay fucking still," he bites out, voice higher pitched than it was the last time he spoke. The way I can tell exactly what he's feeling just from the way he speaks is incredible. He's so easy, yet so hard to read.
I still don't say a word. Damn him for momentarily taming the brat because this is a violation of my own personal rules. But I can't help myself-- so long as my silence brings him closer to me, I'll give up my voice box. I'd give it up forever.
"Good fucking girl." The words are barely audible, only meant for himself as his thumb rubs over the top of my ass. He pushes his cock just a bit farther into me, taking his sweet fucking time. I don't know how he has so much patience because I'm really about to lose my mind. I can't hold out, I can't.
"Sal," I almost cry out, taking a quick breath to try and regain my composure," Please."
"I said to shut up, Vi," he rasps, but his voice has no aggression or bite. He's losing himself. "When will you learn your lesson?"
I turn my head in an attempt to shake it, but find that the vanity's surface stops me from doing so. I couldn't care less about his no-talk thing right now. "Can you just--"
The sound of a jiggling door knob results in Sal quickly pulling out what very little bit of his dick had actually entered me. I jolt upright myself, taking staggering and panicked steps back until I bump into Sal's front. His hand instinctually grabs onto my waist to stabilize me as we watch the door. Fear is thrumming through my genes at the terrorizing thought of someone entering this room with Sal and I almost completely naked like this. So much is going wrong--
But the door knob stops jiggling and that's when Sal and I both suddenly realize that the door is locked.
I physically fold, bending forward in relief as a cold sweat suddenly takes over me.
Sal removes himself from behind me. When he walks around me, he's holding his pants up by the waistband and taking a couple steps toward the door. He doesn't say a word, confusion and pure, unadulterated fear is written in his body language.
"Sal, I want to come back in here with you." It's Larry, and poor thing. He sounds so desperate.
Sal glances back at me, his bright, icy blue gaze unreadable. I watch him, glancing between those eyes of his with a pout that I can't hide. We were so close.
"Okay, Lar," Sal says monotonously. He makes no move for the door though, likely because I'm still half naked.
"Alright," Larry says, voice muffled from the hunk of wood separating him from us. He sounds so relieved. "I'm going use the bathroom real quick. Can you unlock the door for when I get back?"
"I will," Sal mumbles back in response, walking back to me with a little glare in his eyes.
I suck in a breath. I'm disappointed, in truth. I was excited for this. We had both agreed and we were right there, but the opportunity is gone.
Sal stands behind me, undoing the belt around my wrists. I pull my hands away from my back when the belt is removed and flex my fingers, admiring the red marks left on my skin from the leather.
I glance off to the side after a moment and grab my clothes, quickly pulling on my underwear before I take a chance and turn. Sal has been quiet, which is weird. It's unsettling, even. Makes me kind of uncomfortable.
When he finally enters my field of vision, he even looks a bit awkward. Maybe it's because the moment is ruined and I'm literally almost half naked, fighting to get my cargo pants over my ankles.
"This is over," Sal finally speaks, his eyes boring into mine. Well, duh, it's over. Larry interrupted us. I don't have to say a word for him to see the words on my face.
"This thing," he continues, all nonchalance and unbothered as he gestures between us with a hand. "It's over. No sex over the phone, no hand or mouth stuff, no sex in general. I'm done with you. I was done with you yesterday."
My breath gets caught in my throat for the umpteenth time tonight. His words don't necessarily hurt-- I should have expected them. But the point is that I didn't expect them, and now I'm leaving Las Vegas in the morning... but I likely won't see Sal for at least another year anyway. So why am I shocked? Why can't I think? Why can't I process that he just ended our sex agreement?
I just watch him, trying to hide all of the panic, the disappointment, the fear, and the sadness I've been trying to bite down all day. I don't know how to feel. Again. I simply keep my gaze locked on his as I finally get my pants up my legs and begin buttoning them.
Just like that. It's done and I didn't even get the full experience. I feel... upset. I feel angry knowing that I was just a quick fuck for him. Not that we even got to fuck. But, then again, he was the same thing for me. I shouldn't be angry-- I can't be angry.
I should be relieved.
"Okay," I say evenly, peeling my eyes away from him.
I can't look at him. I'll cry or punch him. Maybe I'd yell at him. I don't know. And I don't know why I'd do any of those things to begin with. Maybe it's just because I'm upset that I have to leave tomorrow and all the negative feelings that come with being separated from my friends again is finally starting to make me crack.
"Okay," he responds, voice just as emotionless as mine.
I do the walk of shame to his door, unlocking it quickly and pulling it open. My head feels heavy, too heavy from my neck. My body weighs too much for my legs to uphold right now. I feel like crumbling to the floor. I said that I was falling apart earlier and now I really am.
Sal and I don't exchange a word as I step into the hallway and start closing the door behind me. I swallow my emotions, trying to keep my tears at bay. I don't need to cry. I shouldn't-- there's no reason. None at all. And crying's only going to make me have a terrible headache later.
I look up, tears brimming my eyes as I make quick eye contact with sleepy Larry. Fuck, terrible timing.
"Hey, Vi," he slurs a bit, smiling gently at me. "I'm not kicking you out, you can bunk with me." He's so sweet, but I need to be alone. I need separation or else Larry's going to wake up to me weeping beside him.
"That's okay," I give him my best smile, which probably isn't even really that great. "I'm going to go lay with Ash. I'm pretty tired. Plus your bed is a twin size-- we wouldn't fit."
"Fine." He pouts, following the expression with a yawn. "I'll see you in the morning then. Night."
I swallow down the lump in my throat so I can answer him without giving my feelings away. "Goodnight," I say quietly, because whispering is easier than saying it out loud.
I continue my trek down the hallway, my footsteps picking up speed as I turn a corner and make my way to the bathroom. I can't suppress the urge to cry and the frown marring my face is horrific. I can't keep it away no matter how badly I wish I could feel differently.
I never should have gotten involved with Sal. I never should have come to Las Vegas. Leaving is so much harder. Missing out on this opportunity to see everyone wouldn't have hurt this bad.
I regret everything.
My hand slaps onto the light switch, flicking it on and enveloping the spacious bathroom with blindingly bright light. I shut the bathroom door behind me and grab onto the counter, facing myself in the mirror.
I look sexed out and exhausted. I look broken. He said he'd break me. Fuck, he said he would. It wasn't just him though-- it's everything. Everything that I should have done differently. And now I'm stuck here, pitifully watching myself holding back tears in the mirror and unable to control my raging guilt, disappointment, and regret.
I should shower. That might calm me down, might shut my brain up for a few minutes.
Without a moment of hesitation, I yank my paint-stained shirt over my head and spare myself another glance in the mirror as my hands work on the clasp of my necklace.
But seeing the necklace in my reflection-- hanging around my neck and resting right between my breasts makes me feel so, so sick. Because it's not my necklace. It's Sal's. It's his guitar pick. And for the last few weeks that I've had it, I've forgotten it was there because it became second nature to take it off before my shower and put it back on right after. It became a part of me-- so much so that I forgot it was even there. I forgot about the meaning it holds, and the power it holds over me.
I pinch my lips together, aggressively pulling the thing away from my body after unclasping it. I squeeze the pick in my fist while leaning over the sink, watching myself in the mirror.
How could I have done this to myself? Every decision I've made recently has ended up being the ultimate betrayal. Every second. Even since right before I became VioletViolence. The day I met Sally Face is the day that everything started going wrong, and it's my own damn fault.
My reflection suddenly has wet, hot tears flowing down her cheeks and a pitiful look on her face. And she's the only one who feels as terribly as I do right now.
_____________________
A/N::::: hiiiiiiii!!! :3 UGH i've missed you guys so much! and i've missed writing so terribly much as well. it's been over a month and that fact literally makes me SICK. i hate being away from the thing that brings me so much joy :( but the good news is that i have less than a month in the semester which means plenty of time to write starting soon!! i've been hellaaaaa busy with my big, really important courses this semester. the amount of work piled onto me is atrocious, but we'll make it through. pinky promise <333
so about faceless fixation-- GRRRRR I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER so many of you have been asking about the necklace and i've literally been clawing at my own soul with anticipation for this final moment!! i have so many plans for future chapters and the only thing i can say with confidence is that it will literally never get any less shocking. i'll keep you guys on your toes forever.
anywho, it's 3:30am and i have class at 9:30, so goodnight my darlings!! i hope you all have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night! and never forget i love you all with my entire heart and soul <33
#sal fisher#sally face#larry johnson#ash campbell#todd morrison#travis phelps#enemies to lovers#sally face fandom#sally face fanfiction#fanfic#smut
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ok lemme tell you about the dream i had last night, with the end of the world, and bakugou, and his little classmates.
I’m on a beach. It’s overcast; the sea is white and gray and violent. this is the culmination of an earlier part of my dream, but i don’t remember it. all i know is that i’m standing on this beach with my graduating class except my graduating class is made up of BNHA characters and also, everyone else beyond the beach is dead.
the beach is split into two halves; our half, and then this massive, yellow sandstone structure in the middle, built like a fortress, and then the second half of the beach on the other side. The fortress blocks out most of our view of the other half of the beach—Class B, from my hero, are over there, getting ready in the same way we are. i’m worried because we have no way of communicating with them without physically going through the fortress but there’s bigger fish to fry—we’re getting ready to hold of an attack of zombies.
it’s stupid. they play by dream-rules. we just have to hold them off through the night, in the dark, until the morning when the sun makes them useless. but also being by the sea is stupid too, because they can come through the water. we’re basically left open for attack and we just have to do the best we can. no one’s expecting to survive this last wave, i think; everyone’s lost family or friends, we’re literally the last dredges left. it doesn’t matter: the zombies come. through the water, behind us from the dark green embankment. i’m trying to fight them off with small things—screwdrivers, ice picks, whatever is pointy but i’m getting too close to them, one grabs me and i yelp as i try to wrestle a kitchen knife into it’s eye (i win). i stumble away from it when it drops, and there’s a red wheelbarrow with a shovel and i grab it, ready to drive it into the soft decaying gaps of their necks but it’s daybreak and everyone else is cheering—the zombies are gone, we’ve survived. i’m relieved, but now i’m like, oh, fuck, i have to pack for the evacuation.
(i dunno what evacuation, but just bare with me)
but there’s a problem. everyone on our side of the beach is dropping in gratitude, or pushing the bodies out sea, cleaning up and as i’m picking up things around the fortress, the back pathway behind it that leads to the other side and the other half the beach, i realise something: i can’t hear any noises, any sounds of similar celebration, from the other side. the other class.
my stomach drops. the fortress is very tall, and very silent and is like, a warren of hallways and rooms and blind corners. i think, no, surely not—
but Bakugou’s behind me, silent and suspicious. maybe he’s noticed the same thing, idk, idc, but there’s a few others now and we’re paused, on our side of the pathway behind the fortress, when kendo and tetsutetsu shuffle out.
they’re grinning at us. kendo’s wearing tetsutetsu’s jacket. he’s shirtless. it makes it easier to see the gouging in his stomach, the way his innards are spilling out, loose and too few. she’s covered in blood and her mouth is covered in blood and i’m going to be sick, and they lurch at us and it’s Bakugou that incinerates them.
“they’re all gone,” i say in horror. “there’s no way—”
bakugou’s mouth just thins grimly, and eventually our cleanup party extends to taking out the rest of the walking dead that was their year mates.
(the dream starts to trail off here, like the world and the in-dream logic is beginning to crumble. i’m in the fortress, edging around corners, wary of zombies: instead i find a bedroom with a huddle of my old toys on the bed, all sentient and all very mad with me, because i am leaving them behind to evacuate. i don’t know what to say. i’m a little scared of them—why the fuck are they talking?—but also i’m trying to explain to them that i can’t take them, i don’t have the space or luxury to, i can’t fit them and what i need into my bag. Bakugou’s there, still frowning, keeping the floor swept of zombies. as i explain to them they can’t come, he’s trying to clear a space in his bag so i can bring one, or two. but then it’s a matter of choosing who leave behind, and despite how much they freak me out, i feel bad.
we have to leave soon. i wake up and it’s an overcast day.)
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"I WILL get you home."
Let’s be real. No one cares what I’m up to right now (it’s nothing, I’m up to nothing) because the second Doctor Who special came out the other day.
WILD BLUE YONDER.
Wherein 14 and Donna end up in an abandoned spaceship at the edge of a wormhole and they meet their own evil not-selves.
This one was so ridiculous, I absolutely love it. It’s so Doctor Who to drop them somewhere and just make them run through insanely long corridors the entire time. It’s one of my favorite motifs. 10 was always running and licking things and obviously 14 had to, too.
Before the spaceship nonsense though we get the silliest opener, the Doctor and Donna ending up in a tree in 1666 where they come across Sir Isaac Newton - who didn’t know he was a Sir of course and 14 just said “spoilers!” and I lost my shit a little bit. River effing Song, for liiiife.
But the joke Donna intended on making, the Doctor trying to stop her, I’m dead. The two of them delivering the punchline together. It was all about the banter in this episode. The banter, and sheer terror, of course. But I am 97% here for the banter. I guess I’ll take a little bit of a scare, whatever.
Anyway, they end up crashing in this spaceship and Donna’s all worked up and it’s gotta be the most posted scene: 14 grabbing her hand, holding it to his chest, kissing her knuckles, promising he’d get her home safe.
Here’s the thing, friends - 10 never got to be affectionate, ever. He couldn’t tell Rose he loved her before he was cut off from her. And even when she got to keep his human clone, we didn’t get to hear it then. He was all fury and intelligence and closed off to protect everyone and I’m so excited 14 gets to be more…human. The Doctor has been through a LOT since he last saw Donna and he knows she deserves to know how much he cares about her and it’s just pouring out of him and I’m so fucking smitten. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.
Anyway, to try and fix the situation he sticks the sonic screwdriver into the keyhole of the TARDIS, encouraging it to rebuild itself while they investigate their surroundings. Which leads them to the long ridiculous hallway. Wherein some of my favorite banter comes in: Donna thinks that Isaac Newton was hot, and 14 agrees, “He was, wasn't he? He was so hot. Oh! Is that who I am now?” Donna’s response of “well it was never that far from the surface…” was perfect, and if you’re not squealing at this point, what’s going on with you? That’s a serious question. Can 14 be my favorite if he only gets three episodes? Is that wrong?
Just kidding though! Banter interrupted. They hear the TARDIS powering up and when they pop back into the hold they crashed in, she disappears. The Doctor thinks that she’s detected an imminent threat, and will return when it’s passed.
Not great news. But Donna fucking Noble says “There's something on this ship that's so bad the TARDIS ran away? Then we... go... and kick its arse!” because she’s a BAMF and it’s best we don’t forget that.
Back out in the hallway they get back to bickering and it’s all nice and easy but then they hear the ship say something and the hallway rearranges themselves which is disconcerting. They’d seen something in the hallway at a distance, so the Doctor figures out there’s a transport vehicle hidden in the floor and they hop in. They reach the thing and it’s a ridiculously old robot that moves one step, barely, and they’re perplexed by that but they hop back into the vehicle and I love Donna mocking 14’s love of “allons-y!” and they’re just cute and amazing and my favorite.
They find what I’m assuming is the control room and the Doctor sets to figuring out what’s going on. No life signs on the ship, but an airlock door was opened and then closed three years ago. They send out a drone they find, and slowly 14 realizes where they are: essentially the edge of the universe. Further out than the Doctor has ever been. And he’s so fascinated by it. And then they hear the ship announce another word, and it rearranges itself again and they wander to try and find more information.
In some room with a bunch of shelving, 14 pulls out a drawer with a bunch of circuit things that look like they’re covered in honey. When Donna asks if they’re dangerous, he LICKS one and then fakes like he was poisoned, like, baby boy probably not the best time, but again! The banter, the playfulness! It’s giving everyone life.
He tells her to move up a bunch of the circuit things into the tray above and then he leaves her to go investigate another room with a bunch of water tubes? Sure. They should be able to hear each other while he adjusts water levels. Next thing we see is 14 rejoining Donna, and they’re chatting as usual, she wondering how long her family will wait for her in that alleyway, after seeing the TARDIS disappear in distress.
Then we see Donna entering the room the Doctor is in, saying she finished moving the circuits but it doesn't’ feel right, and then they’re cutting back and forth between Donna talking to the Doctor in one room and the Doctor talking to Donna in another. Boop, y’all in danger.
Like this should be disconcerting but my favorite part of the entire sequence is the Doctor that Donna is with says “my arms are too long” and she just brushes it off like, ‘yeah you’re gangly AF’ and then the Donna that the Doctor is with says “my arms are too long” and he reacts like ‘humans are super weird, I get it’ like neither one are at all put off by the non-sequitur. They’re such best friends.
But then the Donna the Doctor is with DOES have an arm that’s too long and panic sets in and then there are 2 Doctors and 2 Donna’s and isn’t that fun?! The duplicates tell them that they came from the nothingness, they’re “not-things” and then they start GROWING so of course it’s time to run.
I’m sorry, but watching the two of them be pursued by weird stretched out versions of themselves is actually kind of hilarious. Creepy as hell, but also extremely entertaining. As they run they figure out that the not-things are making copies of them, their bodies and their minds, they have their memories, and that’s not gonna be great y’all, how are they gonna tell each other apart?!
Eventually the copies get so big they get wedged in the hallway and the Doctor spots a ladder so he starts to climb it along with Donna, but then the hallway rearranges itself again and they get separated, dumped into different corridors. 14 yells at her to stay put but she doesn’t, she starts moving and he starts moving and eventually they both find doors, and on the other side of both of those doors is the Doctor, and Donna.
We don’t know who is who, either, and that’s really the stakes of the whole thing. How do the real Doctor and Donna know it’s each other, and not a copy? Y’all want a perfect excuse to yell at the tv? Because this is yell-at-the-tv territory. Just me curled up in a blanket shouting, “I don’t think that’s him, baby girl! That’s not ya boy!”
And so they try to figure out a way to tell who is actually who, and it’s bumbling and they’re trying to reason it out and it just doesn’t go well. The Doctor that’s with Donna says he’ll take off his tie because maybe the duplicates don’t understand matter like that. The Donna that’s with the Doctor asks him where she was born and launches into some crazy story and they’re just muddling through it.
At this point I’m like, ‘well it’s got to be that each of them are with a duplicate because if the duplicates came upon each other then they’d just like, keep moving? Because they know they’re duplicates’ but it’s fine, whatever. Here’s where it gets sad - The Donna the Doctor is with starts to tell him that when she was The DoctorDonna she saw all the things he went through in those fifteen years, and she mentions The Flux.
I have a lot of problems with The Flux, I can’t lie. But let’s ignore it, because I guess it’s canon now, maybe? And the Doctor is devastated by the mention of it and that tips him over the edge, he just wants someone to understand the utter shitstorm he went through and so he thinks it’s Donna, he says, “all those years, I missed you” but JK IT’S NOT. He falls for it. But the duplicate sinks into the floor because they’re bad at being solid and she’s so intrigued by what he is because he’s basically controlled the universe and I can imagine that’s super attractive to a not-thing made of nothingness.
Meanwhile Donna figures out the Doctor she’s with is a duplicate, because he doesn’t maintain the tie on the floor that he took off, and then everyone is running again and the ship rearranges itself and all 4 of them end up back in the control room, still trying to suss out who is who.
The Doctor is talking fast and the duplicate is trying to do the same and one of the Donna’s says they’re stupid and they both reiterate it’s true but then the Doctor says that Donna thinks she’s stupid but she also thinks she’s brilliant because humans can believe different things at the same time. So they look at each other, realizing they’re both the right ones and Donna says “brain box!” and 14 yells “earth girl!” and they hug. So much hugging in this episode.
The point is though, the duplicates are copying them because they’re thinking and their adrenaline level is up so the real two of them try to calm down and not think but we all know the Doctor, he has to run a mile a minute always and forever and he can’t give up on the puzzle they’re in: who opened the airlock? Why is the ship rearranging itself? What’s the random clanging they keep hearing?
He realizes the duplicates don’t know the answer either. But they know the TARDIS will come back for the Doctor and Donna and they want to escape and apparently cause a bunch of wars throughout the universe? Because of course. Perfect sense. Why wouldn’t not-being be blood thirsty? Then the skylight opens in the control room and they see a body tethered to the ship, floating in the nothingness, the captain.
The Doctor realized the captain did something to trap them in system and he has to work out why, which is not great because that’s what the duplicates want but the Doctor’s gonna doctor. They figures it out: the airlock opening was the captain going out, killing herself. She realized what the duplicates were doing and came up with a plan and then died so they couldn’t unravel it. The ship’s in a holding pattern because she pulled out an old robot they couldn’t copy and set it to basically destruct, slowly. The robot is walking toward a button, and the ship is rearranging slowly, marking out a countdown.
The duplicates know they need to stop the robot, and the Doctor knows they need to speed up the countdown. So everyone’s running again. And there is a hilarious fight between the Donna’s, and the Doctor is pursuing his duplicate and it’s a perfect chase sequence and everything is going nuts but the Doctor knows the TARDIS will come back when the danger is passed and then they hear “ONE” and there she is, to save the day.
The right Doctor gets in and he does a hilarious little thing where we props the door open and propels her like a skateboard to where the Donna’s are fighting and he has to choose who is who. He picks the wrong one. And Donna is screaming and screaming begging not to be left behind and the duplicate is approaching the Doctor like she’s going to eat him and then he says “your arms are too long” and expels her and grabs actual Donna, and they hug and huddle against each other at the foot of the console and it was all very HARROWING.
Eventually, he asks her if she can see his memories from those 15 years, but she can’t, it’s gone. She asks him to tell her what really happened, what he went through, but true to 10 form, he doesn’t. He may be more human, but not enough to reveal how even more broken he is. She asks him if he’s okay and he says he will be, “in a million years.” But no matter what form the Doctor is in, I doubt that will ever happen.
Meanwhile, here’s what most of us are waiting for - when they get back to the earth, the exact spot they’d flown away from, Donna flings the doors open and there’s Wilf, waiting. Like he always was. And the way the Doctor reacts to him, “Wilfred Mott! Ohhh, now I feel better. Now nothing is wrong, nothing in the whole wide world! Hello, me old soldier!” is so SWEET.
Wilf’s face, seeing the Doctor again. He’s 94 and he had to lie to Donna for YEARS about what she’d been through and all that he knows, and he never thought he’d lay eyes on the Doctor again. It’s devastating, but even more so, because after the scene was shot, Bernard Cribbins fucking died. So yeah, everyone is sobbing.
But there really isn’t time for that, turns out that people are just randomly attacking each other in the street and Wilf says everyone’s gone mad and it’s the end of the WORLD so they pull him into the TARDIS and off they go.
Woof, y’all. It was a lot. But also a perfectly encapsulated Doctor/Donna romp in the middle of bigger things, and I just love all of it. I would watch the two of them run around together until the end of time. I think we all would. The final episode is gonna break me, but oooh weee it’s been a good ride so far.
#what g's watching#doctor who 60th anniversary#fourteenth doctor#wild blue yonder#wilfred mott#david tennant#donna noble#doctor who#doctor donna
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The Sterling Saga: The Hardest Part is Getting Started...
I'm what the kids call a Scorpio/Sagittarius cusp. It gives me the worst qualities of both, but the Sagittarian ones are especially irritating. I can handle living a life of hermitude and psychological trauma (I'm missing out on a fireworks show as I type this). What I can't handle is constantly being haunted by the ghosts of my own dumbassery.
I know they're there. I anticipate them. I do everything I can to keep their rattling chains out of my halls.
...so you would think that, even with my tendency to get an idea in my head and then haul off and relentlessly pursue, I would at least have had enough sense to back up my talking furby on fucking Google Drives or something.
...I did not. Thus begins our next great adventure!
Let me give you a little breakdown of how Sterling works. His main computing system is a Raspberry Pi Zero W attached to a speaker and motor controller. His programming is stored entirely on a microSD card. This is the primary copy of his data. His old backups were stored on an old computer of mine which I no longer have, though the hard drive is still in my possession. I hope. I haven't gone through my moving boxes yet.
So, I can take two routes when it comes to retrieving Sterling's data: I can either go through a million boxes, find that hard drive, get an adapter, plug it into my wimpy-ass Lenovo Yoga and get to the data that way, or, I could pop Sterling open, pull out that MicroSD card, pop it in a card reader and back up the primary copy onto the Yoga and the cloud for safekeeping.
Both options are time consuming, but one of them is the fun kind of time consuming and the other is the boring kind of time consuming. So, I'm going with option 2. If option 2 ends in tragedy, I can still hopefully buy a new rig and do an emergency recovery of the data that exists on that hard drive. Hopefully it won't come to that - if I was smart enough to put him together, I should be smart enough to take him apart, right...?
"How in the hell did I do this...?"
After unceremoniously cutting open the zip tie and pulling off his fur, I was met with a sight I vaguely remember: the non-electrical wire that holds the bottom of his carapace in place, covered by insulating tape, and above that, the wires leading to his touch sensors.
One interesting thing of note is that the wire actually goes into his shell, rather than being wrapped around the outside of it. I have no idea why I did this. Surely, there must've been a reason. To keep the battery hatch in place when the hardware wouldn't fit, maybe? I'm not entirely certain, but why else would I take such an approach? Running that metal wire so close to the hardware is just asking to short circuit something otherwise, unless it was positioned just right.
I undid the wire with some pliers, and this is the part where I chickened out. I don't have a screwdriver well suited for unscrewing him, or needle and thread for his ears for that matter. Not to mention a MicroSD card reader (besides my phone that is). After suitably defiling him, I put the old man back together the best I could and made a shopping list of supplies for tomorrow.
The current plan is to get the necessary supplies and very carefully extract that card, ideally without harming Sterling's hardware. Though if I do, it's not a huge loss: I can easily replace aluminum tape or a speaker. I can't easily replace three months' worth of nonstop, agonized coding - or a friend, for that matter.
And so he sits, like a sleeping Buddha unfazed by the ever-shifting cycle of samsara while I scramble to purchase an appropriately sized screwdriver.
If only I could be so enlightened...
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The Clone Wars 4x9 ‘Plan of Dissent’ Reaction
Hardcase NO
I was tearing up at that. “Live to fight another day.” *sobs*
Fuck Krell. Absolute heartless bastard.
Really not impressed with Dogma at this stage so I’m guessing a lot happens in the final episode of this arc.
Poor Tup. He really reminds me of the friend that is pressured into doing things that they really don’t want to do. And the poor thing is so anxious and worried. I’m relating to him far too much.
Fives with his legs splayed open on his back under a ship doing mechanical work? HELLO?!?! First Tech, now this?! Though I guess technically (heh) it was Fives first then Tech. Either way, most excellent crotch and thigh shot.
Speaking of thighs, this is where those gifs of Rex’s thigh plates come from!
Help me why am I having thots when everything that’s happening is so awful
That was some look from Rex when he saw Fives, Jesse and Hardcase flying off in the Umbaran fighters. Long suffering “why are those idiots doing this” combined with admiration and respect that they actually went and did it.
Omg the chaos in the hanger with Hardcase trying to fly the fighter and destroying everything and Fives doing his best Han Solo impression of trying and failing to definitely not sound sus.
“That’s gonna leave a mark” CACKLING
Hardcase actually did a fairly decent job of coming up with a fairly believable story and making it believable enough. Not wholly believable but better than I expected. Fives though, baby, you really need to get better at acting.
Speaking of, the shot of the clones at the start and Fives leaning on the wall looking down with his ankles crossed definitely looks like the start to some 90s boy band music video. I know I’ve seen this mentioned before but it’s hilarious how accurate that description is.
Rex trying to take the blame for Fives and Jesse and then Fives refusing to let him and Rex looking at him and saying “Fives!” all anguished and just ugh ALL OF MY EMOTIONS
Is Appo the one with the downward pointing white arrow surrounded by blue paint on the forehead of his bucket? Just checked Wookieepedia and yup, he is. Also, he's a CC. So why is he a Sergeant?
Hardcase with his little sneaky wiggly fingers. I love him so much.
I’ve noticed this with a few clones but they have these 3 lines of utterly adorable crows feet when they grimace or scrunch up their faces in certain ways and I just want to kiss them they’re so precious.
How is Rex keeping it all together? Poor man. I didn’t think it would be possible to want the walking disaster that is Anakin back but here we are. Do we ever find out why he was so suddenly and conveniently called back to Coruscant immediately? I’m assuming it’s Palps meddling.
Still loving Jesse and his little nose scrunch every time he turns up. There’s a heart and gentleness to him and that’s really evident in his little moment at the start about valuing the lives of the clones. I’m still not sure if I should be referring to them as clones or men so it’s just sort of bouncing between the two at the moment.
You can see why Jesse ends up becoming an ARC. I did have the heartbreaking thought the other day that seeing as Jesse becomes an ARC after Echo dies, does that mean Jesse replaces Echo as Fives’ ARC partner? *gross sobbing*
This is also the episode where that gif of Rex glaring over his shoulder comes from!
Tup gesturing with his space screwdriver thingy and waving it around. Bless.
The clones' voices are also starting to sound noticeably more distinct. Jesse’s is softer. Rex’s more gruff, no nonsense and laced with authority, which makes sense. Hardcase is utterly chaotic, rambling and slightly higher? You can hear the nervousness and worry in Tup’s voice. Dogma’s voice is also higher and much more tightly wound. I’m not sure how I’d describe Fives’ voice but it’s noticeably different to Rex’s and everyone else’s. I’m so glad they’re finally building out their characters and it’s not just generic clone voice for all of them.
Also, Rex running interference for Fives, Jesse and Hardcase and intercepting Dogma and Tup. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” UGH
What’s Fives’ role in the 501st and Torrent? He seems like Rex’s second in command and right hand man but he doesn’t have a rank. Wookieepedia just lists him as an ARC Trooper. Are ARC Troopers just in their own special little box of bonkers BAMFness?
I keep adding to this reaction because I’m putting off watching the final episode of this arc. Ugh, MY EMOTIONS.
#watching the clone wars for the first time#plan of dissent#the clone wars#tcw 4.9#reaction#star wars#umbara arc#hardcase#clone trooper hardcase#fives#arc trooper fives#rex#captain rex#jesse#clone trooper jesse#tup#clone trooper tup#dogma#clone trooper dogma#pong krell
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