#even if it takes me another 20 years i want to finish that fuckin fic
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10 20 30?
10 got answered in a different ask, so!
What’s your favorite minor character you’ve written?
is this minor character as in 'minor in my fic' or 'minor in the thing i am making fic of'? Either way it's probably Edorad and Shawlong in to skin a cat. Edorad is a little arrogant, a lot practical, and surprisingly respectful for a Hollow. Shawlong is even more so and I look forward to writing him in the second chapter.
Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.
ok, ok, so, i've actually been slowly chipping away at a longfic for the last [checks clock, winces] five years now that explores Ike at the end of Radiant Dawn. it STARTED with me being like 'ok so wait, how the fuck does Ragnell get to Archanaea in Awakening, that is a whole ass different continent from Tellius' and it. just. snowballed from there into me sending Ike on a continent-spanning soul-search as a way for me to dig into the reasoning behind why Ike leaves Tellius in the first place (and also a VERY thin excuse for me to worldbuild the crap out of my favorite fire emblem game). Just the outline is like, six pages long. If this thing ever gets done it's going to be MONSTROUS.
#bizarre adventures#AND I REALLY WANT IT TO BE DONE.#even if it takes me another 20 years i want to finish that fuckin fic
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20 questions for fic writers
tagged by @thenookienostradamus, quyanaa!
1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 22 :)
2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 237, 409, yeehaw!
3. What fandoms do you write for? Magic Mike (allegedly), Always Sunny (allegedly), Killer Joe, True Detective (season one, I get too weepy if I think about season four too long but someday!), Midnight Mass, Shadow & Bone, Tell Me Your Secrets, Loki, and I've got an original work snuck in there, too
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
5. Do you respond to comments? Typically! I have a habit of hoarding my favorites in my inbox so if I take a week or three months to answer you it's because I've been thinking about kissing you on the mouth. Comments really make my day so I do my best to show gratitude to those who take the time to make them.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Maybe Sinhound? I don't set out to write angst.................. ever, but ending with Mildred's funeral wasn't what I was expecting either.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All of them :) I'm a sucker for love and happy endings :)))))
8. Do you get hate on fics? no and that gets more and more shocking each time I post a new work lately as my ao3 becomes a pit of depravity while I work through everything I can't put in my novel manuscript.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? hell yeah fuck yeah. I like playing in varying degrees of consent, unhealthy or unbalanced dynamics, girls who come too fast and have weird relationships with sex, yada yada. I have a really supportive husband who I am disgustingly, deeply in love with so a lot of genuine warm and fuzzy feelings for one old man in particular generates a lot of material.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I simply don't have the mind processes for it and admire those who can mix media like that.
11. free space / no question here, send me an ask with one instead please :)
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know of! would be awfully neat though.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Oh man, I had a fun star wars piece I was writing with my dear friend, Jess, when impostor syndrome struck too hard to finish-- I still have the embroidery she did of our title (the inverse must also be true) in my office hanging below my first rejection letter :)
14. What’s your all time favorite ship? every goblin couple that make out nasty style, so uh, rust/sugar :( they're so special to me and pulled me out of a Hellacious writer's block
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? My only wip is Sunday School Dropout because I sort of forgot where I was going with it, it'll come back with light voyeurism, blood drinking, virginity taking, the usual order
16. What are your writing strengths? I feel like this is question to really sell myself but honestly, hell if I know, creating place? mannerisms maybe? Beyond my general insecurities, some of the nicest compliments I've gotten are for things I did unintentionally so hard to say! I have crafted some fuckin nonlinear bangers I'll give myself that much.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? I DON'T KNOW HOW TO MAINTAIN TENSE and I HAVE NO WORKING KNOWLEDGE OF SENTENCE STRUCTURES, which annoy me and are my father's biggest complaints so I can't take them seriously enough to consciously attempt to improve on them yet. Lately, I've been smoking weed and flipping vocabulary flashcards before bed because my diction feels stagnant, a bit repetitive across pieces like.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I can't even speak english well enough to write coherently I'm not going to fuck up further with google translate. I did some ballet au's a few years back that I know have some french in it but I think I did a firmly okay job with the sprinkles of dialogue-- I know damn well my terminology is correct.
19. First fandom you wrote for? technically game of thrones, I have a sansa/sandor reunion very angrily tapped out in my notes app when season eight skipped it. The first work I posted was Seduction of Odile after I saw a post here about the potential of a rey/kylo blackswan au, reached out and asked if I could give it a try and here I am 22 works and years later :)
20. Favorite fic you’ve written? I'm going to be corny but I have a soft spot for every fic that connected me with other writers who are so talented and inspiring and force me to be better so I feel like I can talk to them lmao
tagging tagging tagging @the-heartlines @labyrinthphanlivingafacade @littleredwritingcat @abeadofpoison @teeth-ing @itstendereye @barbie-nightmare-house
#it's spring and there is rain on my metal roof and peepers peeping in the swamp#i'm v happy and the will to write is strong again :)#mads levshakoff
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20 questions for fic writers
Snagging this one from @mehoymalloy, tagging @tjerra14 @finrays @poetikat @saltygirafe and anyone else who'd like to do it!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
75!
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
348,609
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Currently Horizon, Stray Gods, Control, and [fingers crossed] HOPEFULLY BG3 soon...lots more in the past, and potentially again in the future! (Warrior Nun, Legend of the Seeker, Critical Role, the list goes on. That tends to happen over 18 years of fic writing.)
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
I'm gonna turn this question around a little and pick the top by kudos in each of my current- and/or most-active fandoms....if I went purely by numbers, the power of Avatrice would overrun the results, hahaha.
Because the Light Is Close (Warrior Nun), The Weight of Us (Legend of the Seeker), rest like you belong here. (Horizon), the veins grow in slow (Critical Role), and brave this time (Stray Gods).
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Absolutely, to every single one! I appreciate, cherish, and return to every single kind word I get--and I gotta make sure that appreciation is known. Nothing makes me feel better than taking the joy of others and reflecting it back with gratitude!
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Oh man uh....I think waiting through daybreak (Stray) (yes the cat game) fits the bill here. That, or so i'll stay half away (Horizon).
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Oh no, SO many!!! Lemme pick just one here....today I'll toss embodiment (Horizon) into the ring.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Not to my face, which I'm glad about!
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Hell yeah I do. Primarily/exclusively F/F, mostly of the very soft variety. But just because it's soft doesn't mean they're not fuckin' Nasty™
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I actually have never written a crossover.
....oh I LIED, I definitely crossed Grey's Anatomy over with Private Practice back in the day. But does that even REALLY count?
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I hope not!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I've been asked a few times, and I've accepted, but they're not complete yet!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not in earnest!
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME. FORCING ME TO PICK ONE FAVORITE???
I won't choose between Aloy/Talanah and Cara/Kahlan. They can tie.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I am holding them in my teeth and growling. I am refusing to let any of them go.
16. What are your writing strengths?
prose-craft with evocative syntax, emotional immediacy, identifying parallels, descriptive introspection, character voice, strength in narrative POV
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
PLOTTING. Can't plot my way out of a paper bag. I am working on this.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Totally would if 1) it actually fit within the fic/fandom itself and 2) if I had a trusted resource/knowledgeable person to reference and check my work!
19. First fandom you wrote for?
the Xenosaga series, so many years ago.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
This is always the most difficult question to answer, and I feel like it changes by the day. I'd say it's either rest like you belong here. (Horizon), for the pure nostalgia of being The First fic I wrote for my current and long-lasting brain rot--or Because the Light Is Close (Warrior Nun), as a product of the exhilarating fandom time in which it was written.
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Talking to Myself
Things I want to do
Finish Hex: Haunted Pound
Write that Merril/Julian fic called Oral Intensity that I’ve been wanting to write for months now.
Write that Welcome to Night Vale!Widomauk fic in Night Vale format
Write that Ashton/Orym Punk/Ballet fic that someone mentioned on twitter that one time just because. I don’t even know what the plot is going to be.
Write a Drawfee fic for Luce and Rowan because I wanna play out what a corruption arc would look like BUT WILL ANYONE READ IT DO I REALLY HAVE THE ENERGY FOR A MULTICHAPTER, SUPER INVOLVED FIC???
Write a stupid lil Empires SMP fic about how Hermes was born through Joel and Sausage.
I sincerely want to do 30 days of Sebasthan because I love them so much even though no one will read it lmao
That one Juliark fic that involves body shots.
Read the Simon Snow trilogy because I have all the books now yeehaw
Finish up Wyfmite season 3.
Start a new podcast for the manuscript I worked on in my Master’s.
Catch up on podcasts that I haven’t listened to in months!
Things I have to do:
Finish reading the three books I haven’t finished reading for the last idk TWO YEARS.
I still need to query agents for my book. I’m still daring to do 20 more agents in the first couple of weeks of October.
Write a synopsis for said book
Edit the manuscript. Like, even though not much will change, it’ll be much better if I’ll be able to send the story how I envision it. There’s just this one aspect of it that I want to move to the end and I think I know which scenes i have to edit to make that work. But I still really need to make sure everything’s grammatically correct EVEN THOUGH FUCKIN WHITE PEOPLE SAY SHOULD OF ALL THE TIME god help me
Exercise a little bit more. Nothing too intense but I do want to start using the treadmill more often. I’m doing pretty okay with the push ups so I hope i can keep up.
I’m honestly most afraid of the query thing. I’m so sure that I’m going to be rejected by everyone I’ve queried so far. And while there are still many more agents I can query, will I be mentally alright if, by December, I’ll have that many rejections??? My self-doubt is already on an all-time high. Like, as much as I want to make plans, I just KNOW that the day I get more than one rejection, I’ll be out of commission. I’m so afraid of the state I’ll be in once the rejections start pouring in because I’m already so fragile. I don’t want to promise anything to anyone, especially myself. As much as I want to do so many things, December is a huge ????? Right now.
Like, okay. Most the agents say 8 weeks to hear back from them (or Not Hear Back from them.) The longest time frame I got was 10-12 weeks. So. Theoretically. I should be getting responses between October 17 - November 18 for the first wave of queries I sent. November 7 - December 16 for the second wave.
Maybe I should stop at the second wave. 40 agents this year should be enough, right? Could I squeeze in ten more? Make it an even fifty?? That would be kinda crazy. Alright. If I think about it, if I’m going to be in a shit mood the whole of November and December, I might as well push it. I think I can squeeze in another 10. Can I? Can I really???
After sitting here for a couple of minutes to mull it over, I don’t think I can. Not if I want to accomplish something I like. So I’m gonna cut it there. 20 more agents in October, no more. I’m gonna spend the rest of the year taking care of myself because I just know I’m gonna have to.
I’ll probably be able to write Oral Intensity in a week. It’ll be short, sweet, and smutty. Then I did promise that one twitter person I’d write that Asrym one so I’ll see what I can do for that. The rest...They can wait. I don’t have to write all of them this year. Though I might write a few more things just to remind myself why I write and why I love writing.
I don’t know when I’ll be able to do edits. I should do it at the soonest time but the second I thought about it, I felt a spike of anxiety. This is gonna be tough to calm but I’ll see what I can do. It won’t be so bad. The hard part is over. Writing the damn thing is over. All I have to do is move some pieces around and make sure everything’s grammatical. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad.
I think I’m insisting that these things should happen during October. In that short span before October 17. Joey, don’t do that. None of these have to happen during that time. In fact, the one that should happen is the editing. And Hex. Alright. Let’s try this again.
This week, September 20 to 25: Finish querying the last six agents.
September 26 to October 2: Finish writing Hex and write your story’s synopsis.
Those are the only weeks you should care about now. I have this problem where I think too far ahead and get overwhelmed and shit like that. Hence, this post. I need to write it all down before I go crazy. I’m going to focus on just a WEEK ahead. That’s as far as I should go for planning ahead. We’ll figure out how we’re feeling then. For right now. Those are the things I should be worrying about. If I have time for more, if I have the emotional energy for more, then wonderful. Let’s stick with these okay? I believe in you.
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hear those bells ring: chapter 3 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)
Summary: Bakugo wakes up with his hearing and a bunch of questions.
Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You
Rating: M(ature)
Warnings: Blood, descriptions of gore, and adult language.
A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 3, I had to work over the weekend. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”
Ao3 Link: Here
Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here
Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here
Bakugo woke up confused, disoriented, and pissed off.
He bolted upright, the taste of smoke and ash still on his tongue, but when he whipped his head from side to side, there was no fire, no burning asphalt, no villain, only the empty, dark expanse of his apartment.
But something was still tugging at him, fucking incessantly, and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone alarm.
Red eyes flicked to the device on his bedside table, and even though its continuous siren was like nails on a chalkboard, Bakugo found himself unable to move, unable to stop it.
Because he could hear the alarm. Clearly. Loudly.
He hadn’t been able to hear his phone alarm in weeks, not really. It was nothing more than a muffled tone that petered out toward the end as it rose in pitch and frequency. Thankfully, Bakugo’s internal alarm got him up most days around the sun, but he’d been late to morning patrols a handful of times.
But now…
Numbly, Bakugo finally reached out and tapped his phone. His ears rang slightly in the ensuing silence, but it was barely perceptible, nothing like the perpetual buzzing he’d been living with, like a hive of bees had taken up residence in his head.
The quiet, after so long, was almost… unsettling.
And it was all because of that woman. He was sure of it.
Bakugo pressed his lips into a thin line as he thought about you, the memories of last night flooding back. The blurry image of your face, crouched over him, splattered in a thin mist of red blood and dusted with white plaster. He couldn’t remember much from right after he blasted that villain into the fucking dirt. He remembered the feel of glass breaking around him, and pain, a lot of fucking pain, but then it was black until you appeared. When he’d opened his eyes and met yours, he recalled thinking he should be in more pain, but then you spoke to him and derailed all coherent thought.
Because he’d heard you. Clear as fucking day.
That immediately drew his attention, and so did the blood all over your hands.
There was a lot of it. Way too fucking much for nicking yourself on some glass or whatever bullshit excuse you gave. And Bakugo knew it was bullshit. You weren’t a convincing liar. Well, maybe to some idiot extras you would be, but not to him. He clocked the way you stuttered, the way you fidgeted and averted your eyes. And when you looked at him… fuck, your face was so goddamn guilty.
Why, he had no idea.
But he did know one thing.
You had a healing quirk. There was no other explanation.
Even if he hadn’t just miraculously recovered the hearing that a doctor told him he would never get back, there were a lot of other little discrepancies. His left arm, for one. Bakugo remembered how it felt when the villain’s asphalt wrapped around his limb, the burning, scalding agony of it. But now, the skin was just pink and barely blistered in some places.
Then there was the blood.
When he’d gotten home after ditching the crime scene, Bakugo had immediately beelined for his bathroom to take a shower. But, when he stripped off his hoodie, he realized it was heavier than it should be right before he noticed it was dripping onto his floor. Dripping blood. Without thinking, he’d wrung the hoodie out on the bathroom floor, and a fuck ton of red liquid seeped out of it.
He had immediately dropped the jacket and started scanning his body in the bathroom mirror, but besides the shallow gash on his abdomen, the burned arm, and a few other minor scrapes and bruises, he was uninjured.
But… his back was coated in red, and so were the seat of his dark jeans and boxer briefs. It was almost like… he’d been lying in a pool of blood.
So, you had to be a healer. You just had to be.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to confirm this since the cops had been circling you like vultures. He also hadn’t wanted to be bitched at by any more heroes, or the fucking media, so he made himself scarce.
But he needed to see you again. Needed to hear the truth from your own mouth.
And maybe he could coax you into a deal.
The doctor Bakugo spoke to yesterday obviously hadn’t known what the hell he was talking about. He had made it sound impossible to fix the blond’s ears, and yet you’d somehow done it easily, in the middle of a fucking battlefield.
With that kind of power, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about going deaf or designing stupid hearing aids with some company.
With that kind of power, Dynamight would become Japan’s Number One Hero in no time.
But first, he had to find you.
Resolved, Bakugo shoved the covers off and slid out of bed, but before he could make it to his bathroom, someone started knocking on his front door.
No, not knocking. Banging. It sounded like they were trying to break the fucking door down.
“Bakubroooooooo!”
“Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Bakugo grumbled as he padded to his front door. He was only dressed in boxer briefs, but that’s what the idiot got for barging over so early in the damn morning.
The banging persisted, growing louder and more fervent.
“I’m fuckin’ comin!” the blond shouted just before he undid the deadbolt and wrenched open the door.
Eijiro Kirishima, dressed in his Red Riot costume, blinked on the other side of the threshold, his fist still raised to knock.
“What the fuck, bro?” he asked after a moment of just staring at Bakugo.
The blond immediately scowled. “That’s my fuckin’ line. What are you doing breaking down my door at six in the damn morning?”
“Excuse me?” his patrol and agency partner scoffed. “I’m obviously coming to check that you’re not dead since you’ve been MIA for over twenty-four hours.”
“What?” Bakugo frowned. “I saw you yesterday morning for patrol.”
“Noooooo,” Kirishima drawled like Bakugo was a particularly stupid child. “That was two days ago, bro. Then that night, I see you all over the damn news, and no one could get ahold of you all day yesterday. I would have come to check on you sooner, but I’ve been having to play damage control with the media because someone decided to blow up a residential neighborhood.”
“Two days?” Bakugo echoed with a furrowed brow. He’d slept that long?
“Have you been passed out this whole time, dude?” Kirishima groaned as he shouldered his way into the apartment. “I guess that means you got none of our messages?”
“Our?” the blond grumbled as he closed the door and followed the redhead to the kitchen bar.
“Yeah, Denki, Mina, Sero.” Kirishima waved his hand dismissively, marching over to the counter where Bakugo kept the fruit and selecting an apple from the wire basket. “I even asked Izuku to message you, just to see if he’d actually get a rise and response from you.”
“I don’t need stupid Deku knowing about my problems, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo growled before he stomped over to his fridge to see what he had to eat because he was suddenly starving.
“Well, that would imply I know your problems, Oh Great Lord Dynamight,” Kirishima snorted and took a bite of apple. “So, what the fuck happened the other night?”
“I blew up a residential neighborhood,” the blond deadpanned as he turned on his stove, cracking a few eggs into a skillet.
“Yeah, I saw that. I was more wondering about what led up to it.”
“What the fuck do you think led up to it?” Bakugo snapped, rummaging through his cupboard for seasonings. “I was walking home from getting a drink, and a damn villain just popped up in front of me.”
“From what I heard, there were other heroes there, too,” the redhead mumbled around another bite of apple.
“Yeah, fuckin’ useless extras,” Bakugo sneered as he started to whisk his eggs with a pair of chopsticks, throwing in some leftover white rice and a bit of nori. “They obviously weren’t getting anywhere, and the bastard was tearing up the street, so I stepped in.”
“To finish destroying the street?” Kirishima cocked an eyebrow, chewing noisily.
“Fuck off,” the blond said with an eyeroll.
Internally, though, Bakugo knew the redhead was right. He’d been sloppy, careless, probably still borderline drunk. But he’d just been so angry about the doctor’s appointment, his fucked-up ears, his bleak and silent future. He had just wanted to break something, hurt someone, consequences be damned.
Except now the consequences were catching up to him.
Fuck, he didn’t even want to think about what his citizen’s approval rating must be now.
Silence stretched between the two pro heroes for several long minutes, in which Bakugo finished making his breakfast and Kirishima finished gnawing on his apple core. The blond quickly shoveled a few bites of eggs and rice into his mouth, but his scarlet eyes kept flicking over to the redhead.
“How bad?” he finally asked.
Kirishima, to his credit, had learned how to translate Bakugo’s curt grunts years ago.
“Actually, if I’m being honest, it’s not that bad,” he sighed, tossing the apple core in the trash and scratching at the back of his head. “Could be worse. From the reports I read, most of the damage—besides the road—is superficial. Broken windows, charred and peeling paint, a few busted cars that we’re still trying to figure out if our insurance or the city’s will pay for. It also helped that you saved two people. That definitely softened the blow.”
“Two?” Bakugo mumbled around one of his last bites. “I just remember the stupid extra on the street that I shoved out of the way.”
As the memory flashed through his mind, Bakugo frowned. He’d shoved that extra out of the way and got snatched by a giant asphalt hand for his troubles. The blond’s red eyes dropped to his pink and blotchy left arm and then trailed over to his chest. He recalled the sensation of his ribs snapping under pressure, but now only a mild soreness lingered after he took a deep breath. Yet another inconsistency…
“Yeah, two,” Kirishima said and drew Bakugo out of his thoughts. “Do you seriously not even remember your own heroics? And that girl had such nice things to say about you, too.”
“Girl?” Bakugo snapped his head up. “The girl whose… apartment I fell into?”
“Crashed into, dude,” the redhead snorted, but then he narrowed his eyes as a sly smirk tugged at his lips. “But yeah. Sounds like you remember her, huh?”
Bakugo didn’t like the smug look on his friend’s face.
“I remember her fuckin’ yellin’ at me.” The blond scowled. “Like I wrecked her place on purpose and didn’t just save her whole block from a lunatic.”
“I mean, to be fair, if you crashed into my house, bro, I would have yelled at you, too.” Kirishima grinned. “But don’t worry, she’s fine. In fact, when she called the agency yesterday, she asked for you specifically.”
“She did? Why?” Did she want to confess her healing quirk? Fuck, were there side effects Bakugo didn’t know about?
“Bro, seriously.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “You’re Japan’s Number Two Hero, and you saved her life. And, like Mina keeps telling you, you’re not as ugly when you stop scowling.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo flipped him off before he went to dump the dishes in the sink.
“Yes, dear.” The redhead smirked. “But, in all seriousness, she called to figure out how to file a claim with our insurance. Or at least that’s what she said, but she also asked how you were doing, and she actually sounded genuinely worried.”
Worried that a random side effect was going to kill him? Or worried that he would say something about her quirk? She’d obviously hidden it for a reason, tried to lie for a reason.
And Bakugo was determined to find out just what that reason was.
“Yeah, well, I’m fine,” he grunted as he rinsed off his plate and put it on the drying rack. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.”
“I can see that,” Kirishima said as he eyed the butterfly stitches stretched across the gash on Bakugo’s abdomen. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t find you dead in a pool of your own blood. That woulda been a real bummer way to start the morning.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo muttered before he averted his eyes to the living room window across from him. “So… what did you tell her?”
“The girl?”
“No, you’re fuckin’ mom,” the blond scoffed.
“Oh, speaking of moms, you might want to text Mitsuki. I called her last night after you ignored my billionth text, so she’s probably going crazy wondering where you are.” Kirishima grinned and then immediately dodged out of the way as Bakugo hurled a fork at him.
“You bastard!” Bakugo hissed. “Now, I’m going to have to see that hag this weekend or she’s gonna fuckin’ barge over here.”
“Maybe you should turn the ringer up on your phone.” The other hero shrugged, ducking again when Bakugo chucked an apple in his direction.
The blond scowled at his friend, but he didn’t reply.
If you and your quirk were the real deal, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about missing a call ever again.
When Kirishima realized the projectiles had stopped, he popped his head over the back of the couch and smirked. “But to answer your previous question, I told the girl we would handle the insurance claim on our end if she sent us her info. And I didn’t really have anything to tell her about you since, like I’ve said, I thought you were dead. Kinda. I was at least thirty percent sure.”
“Have you filed the insurance claim?” Bakugo asked.
“No.” Kirishima shook his head. “She hasn’t sent in the info yet.”
“Well… we should go get it from her.”
This caused the redhead’s eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline, and the surprise on his face quickly made Bakugo backtrack.
“I just… want to get this shitshow over with,” he grumbled as he averted his eyes again, but he could feel a traitorous heat crawling across the bridge of his nose. “The longer her apartment’s all fucked up, the longer the press is gonna rake me over the coals. The hero ranking’s aren’t far off, and I’m not going to lose to Deku again over some stupid broken windows.”
“Righttttt,” Kirishima drawled, but his tone was mocking. “Okay, well, I know the hotel the police have set her up at. After we swing by the agency, we can head that way… to get her insurance info.”
He still sounded unconvinced and like he wanted to needle Bakugo more, but the blond changed the subject quickly.
“Why do we have to go to the agency?” Bakugo asked, and he frowned as he glanced back at his partner. “Even if I lost yesterday, my next scheduled patrol isn’t till tonight.”
“Oh, I know.” Kirishima nodded solemnly. “But Nao wanted to have… a word with you ASAP, if I confirmed you weren’t dead.”
“Fuckkkkkkk,” Bakugo groaned as he dropped his head back. If there was anything Bakugo hated more than the press, it was his actual PR manager. That old hag was good at her job, which meant she was always up Bakugo’s ass about something, and he knew she was going to have a field day with this shitfest.
“Yeah, I’d recommend coffee and preemptive painkillers before we head in,” Kirishima said. “Plus, some putting on clothes. Maybe we can stop on the way and get her something sweet as a bribe.”
“No amount of sugar is gonna make that bitch nice to me,” Bakugo grumbled before he spun on heel and started marching to his bedroom.
“Maybe flowers then?” the redhead shouted after him.
Bakugo slammed the door in response.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bakugo growled around his cargo, kicking his foot out at Kirishima. “Why did I listen to you? I’ve had to go shopping twice today now.”
“Come on,” his friend laughed as he dodged the blow, which made the bags in his arms crinkle. “You can’t deny the flowers and cookies sweetened ole’ Nao up.”
“To you,” Bakugo muttered, shifting the package in his arms a bit. “She still yelled at me for fifteen minutes.”
“Well, you kinda deserved i—yow!” Kirishima yelped as Bakugo kicked him squarely in the ass this time. “This isn’t helping your image, bro!”
“No one even knows it’s us,” the blond hissed.
“Yeah, I guess the hoodies and sunglasses help,” the other pro hero mused.
“And the fact that we’re carrying all this stupid shit.”
“It’s not stupid.” Kirishima frowned in that earnest way of his, which made Bakugo roll his eyes. “It’s thoughtful to bring gifts to people who are having a difficult time. Especially when you made that time difficult. You basically kicked her out of her house, dude, not to mention her shop.”
A wave of guilt actually washed through the blond, which he didn’t like. It made his throat feel tight and his stomach churn, and he glanced away from the redhead with a scowl.
“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s not like we aren’t gonna pay for it.”
The excuse felt flat, even to him.
“Still,” Kirishima said as he shifted the bags in his grip, pulled out his phone, and consulted the map. “It must be stressful. So, we’re going to be nice to her, alright? Which starts with the gifts.”
“And how is a fuckin’ fruit basket supposed to help?” Bakugo asked as he glared around the overflowing mound of crinkling plastic and bright fruit that he held against his chest.
“Uh, one, it’s practical. Her apartment’s all fucked up, the power’s probably still out if not inconsistent on the street, and she’s been living in a hotel for two days, so she probably hasn’t had some nice fresh fruit in a while. And two, it looks nice!”
“We coulda just left this shit at the hotel,” Bakugo grumbled. “She has to go back there eventually, right?”
After old Nao chewed his ass out, Bakugo and Kirishima had gone to the hotel the police said they’d put you up in. Except you weren’t fucking there, and the number you left with Kirishima when you called the agency was going straight to voicemail, so here there were, fucking trekking through the city with a bunch of useless shit.
Bakugo just kept reminding himself it would be worth it when he got the truth about your quirk out of you.
“Nope,” Kirishima said and drew the blond out of his thoughts. “The city only pays the first two days after an emergency, unless the villain caused all the damage, but, uh, that’s not the case here, so we’ll be accommodating her until her apartment gets fixed up.”
“At the agency?” Bakugo asked as his red eyes clicked over to his partner.
As the Number Two and Three Heroes, the two of them had built a solid agency together. Bakugo still didn’t care for a bunch of extras riding on his tailcoats, so they had few sidekicks, all of whom reported to Kirishima and left him the fuck alone for the most part. But they owned a nice, sleek building in a nicer part of town, and one of the floors was dedicated to individual rooms with beds and other amenities. They were usually used when Bakugo, Kirishima, or the other sidekicks wanted to crash after patrol instead of going home—which Bakugo did more often than not—but they’d never had a civilian stay on the premises.
Until now.
“Yessssss, at the agency,” the redhead drawled as a shit-eating smirk crawled across his face. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot of her for the next couple weeks.”
“Wipe that stupid look off your face.” Bakugo scowled and shouldered past the other hero, who snickered as he jogged to catch up.
“Take the next left up ahead.”
“Shut up!” the blond growled, but he followed the instructions.
This was good news, though. Bakugo wouldn’t have to trek to this shitty part of town more than he had to.
And he’d have a healer just down the hall.
They marched along in silence for a few minutes, keeping their heads down, but there wasn’t much foot traffic. Bakugo was lost in his thoughts, planning out the questions he was going to ask you once he could distract Kirishima, but the redhead suddenly stopped in front of him.
“Hey,” Bakugo grunted as the fruit basket crinkled against the other hero’s back. He hadn’t even notice Kiri get in front of him again. “What’s the damn hold up?”
“Holy shit, dude,” Kirishima muttered, staring out at the road he’d just turned onto.
“What?” the blond grumbled, shoving past his friend, but then he stopped, too. “Oh… yeah.”
The street in front of him looked much worse in the bright light of midday. The road was a torn-up mess, more patches of dirt and gravel than actual asphalt. Most of the large-scale debris had been hauled away, but black scorch marks covered the sidewalks in long, dark smears. The walls of several businesses also bore charring along the facades, but most of the damage was focused in the center of the street. A crater nearly six feet deep was carved into the middle of the road, and the buildings on either side were blackened, their broken windows gaping voids.
And then there was the hole in what Bakugo remembered as your second-floor apartment. A tarp hung over the wound, but one of the corners had come undone, flapping in the wind and giving split second glimpses into the darkened room beyond.
Guilt crept up on him again, but Bakugo shoved it down, hunching over the fruit basket and nudging Kirishima.
“Come on,” he muttered before he started moving forward, and a moment later he heard the crunch of boots on gravel as the redhead followed him.
There were more people on this street than on the last several, but Bakugo could immediately tell they weren’t customers just passing through. People swept sidewalks, clearing away the last of the rubble and glass in front of their shops. Then a few old ladies stood under one awning shaking their heads, their hands laden with containers of food or gifts.
Guess Kirishima hadn’t been wrong with this stupid idea.
Then Bakugo realized some of those people were starting to look back at him, so he ducked his head further behind the fruit basket, grateful for his hoodie and sunglasses.
But then suddenly he was there, standing in front of your ruined shop. His red eyes immediately flickered upward, but if there was a sign there before, it was gone now, burnt to ash.
“What kinda shop did you say this was?” the blond asked under his breath as Kirishima paused beside him.
“I’m… not sure,” the redhead said with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think she said on the phone. No time like the present to ask, though.”
Before Bakugo could stop him, Kirishima shifted the bags in his arms, lifted one hand, and knocked on the charred metal frame of the front door.
“Hello?” he called through the broken windows, followed by your name. “Anyone in there?”
“Shit!” The squeaking voice was followed by a crashing sound somewhere in the shadows of the store.
Bakugo didn’t speak a lot of English, but he did know curse words, and the sound of it made his lips twitch in amusement.
“Are you okay?” Kirishima called out. “Can, uh, we come in?”
“Yes, I’m fine!” the voice answered back in flustered Japanese. The words were fluent, though, with barely the hint of an accent. “And, um, I-I guess you can come in, but—”
That was good enough for Bakugo.
The blond shouldered past his partner, boots crunching over glass as he ducked into the darkened shop, and Kirishima sighed as he followed.
The interior, if possible, looked worse than the outside. The room itself wasn’t very big, but it was a mess. Two metal rods had been embedded in the left and right walls at odd angles, obviously caused from the explosions, though Bakugo couldn’t tell what they used to be. Several pieces of blacked mannequins were scattered through the debris, and one wall was a charred mess of shelving and fabric, spots of color peeking through the black ash here and there.
In the back, left corner were the remains of a tri-fold standing mirror, the ones where you could see yourself from different angles. Large shards of glass were missing, though, so the image of Bakugo and Kirishima standing backlit against the street was fractured.
Last but not least, in the rear, right corner of the store was a counter that was half collapsed to the floor, behind which stood an empty doorframe that Bakugo assumed led to the back of the shop and upstairs.
And it was from behind this broken counter that you popped up with a dustpan in one hand and a tiny, handheld broom in the other.
The first thought Bakugo had was your face was rather plain… but in a somehow pleasing way. Like if his eyes had scanned over you in a crowd, something about the line of your jaw, the slope of your nose, the delicate quirk of your mouth would give him pause.
His second thought was that his first one was stupid. You were just some extra, of course you would be plain and unmemorable.
But his third thought was something about the color of your eyes was captivating, in a way that was damn fucking annoying.
“Sorry, I was just… cleaning… up,” you said, slowly trailing off as your eyes met Bakugo’s.
He saw the recognition flare in them immediately, followed by fear, and he couldn’t help the frown that twisted his face.
Why were you afraid of him?
“No, we’re sorry for barging in here like this,” Kirishima barreled on, oblivious to the stare off the other two occupants of the room were engaged in. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Oh! I’m being so rude. My name is Eijiro Kirishima, or you might know me as—”
“Red Riot,” you breathed, finally tearing your eyes from Bakugo’s, and you flashed the redhead a half-smile that trembled along the edges. “We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes.” Kirishima grinned, pointed teeth flashing in the dim light of the shop, before his gaze flickered over to the blond beside him. “And this is—”
“Dynamight,” you finished once again, and you looked like you were trying desperately to maintain eye contact with the hardening hero, but then your eyes clicked back to Bakugo. You didn’t flash him a smile. “We’ve met.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” Kiri chuckled awkwardly, and his arm jerked like he was going to rub the back of his neck, but the bags in his hands crinkled and stopped him.
“What… do you have there?” you asked, frowning at the bags and the fruit basket the heroes were carrying.
“Gifts!” the redhead declared as he hefted his arms up, and then he shuffled forward over charred fabric and glass and extended the bags to you.
You blinked at him for a second, but you set the dustpan and handheld broom on the counter, where they promptly slid to the floor since the whole surface was slanted. You winced at the loud clatter and tried to cover it up by taking the bags from Kirishima, which crinkled loudly again as they transferred hands.
Bakugo would be annoyed if he wasn’t more grateful that he could actually hear the innocuous little noise.
“O-Oh, um, you shouldn’t have, really,” you started as you peeked into the bags, and then Bakugo swore he saw your eyebrow twitch once you saw what was inside.
“It’s not much,” Kirishima said, and he was finally free to rub the back of his head and neck as his smile turned a little sheepish. “But, what with the state of your… apartment, we thought you might need some new clothes! And comfy clothes are the best after stressful days. These especially are super soft, we made sure of it. And, if you don’t like them, you could always sell them for a good chunk of change.”
The redhead winked at you, not in an overly flirty manner, that was just how he was, but your cheeks flared as crimson as his hair, and your eyes dropped to the floor.
Bakugo took the split instant to get a better look at you and noted you were wearing patched, faded jeans, solid boots, and a bleach-stained orange sweatshirt with some English writing he couldn’t read. Usually, he didn’t really see what other people wore because he couldn’t give less of a shit, but somehow he found your obvious cleaning clothes… endearing. The orange looked good on you, too.
Fuck, maybe you didn’t heal him as well as he thought. He had to be hemorrhaging into his brain to be thinking this stupid shit. Or maybe it was a side effect of your quirk?
He needed to get you alone and get answers.
“Well… thank you, this was very thoughtf—oh, wow, that is soft,” you murmured as you partially drew a sweatshirt out of the bag.
Bakugo instantly recognized the forest green and orange color scheme, and apparently so did you, because your face twitched, and you dropped the garment back into the bag and traded it for fuzzy socks with Red Riot’s signature gears stitched into them.
“These will definitely come in handy, my feet are always cold,” you said with an awkward giggle. Then you cleared your throat to cover up the sound. “Thank you, um, Red Riot.”
“You can call me Eijiro, or Kirishima, whatever you’re comfortable with,” the redhead said with another easy grin. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, after all. Oh! We also got you a fruit basket, and I think there might be a few other sweets tucked in there.”
Kirishima nudged Bakugo forward, and your face rippled through a range of emotions, like your brain was taking a second to catch up to everything the pro hero just spewed. First, flustered embarrassment colored your cheeks, then confusion buckled your brow, and your eyes widened before they looked at the fruit basket Bakugo was extending at you.
“Oh, you can just put it down… um…” you trailed off as you turned to the counter and remembered it was half destroyed. Then your eyes jumped around frantically for some kind of flat surface, but the ruined shop didn’t offer any solutions.
“Told ya we shouldn’t of brought this shit,” Bakugo grunted, shooting a scowl at Kirishima.
“Yeahhhhh, we probably could have just delivered it to your room at the agency, my bad,” the redhead laughed. “But don’t worry, we’ll carry it back for you, along with any of your other things.”
“My… things?” you echoed, sounding out the words like a child, and a frown marred your face. “I-I think I must be misunderstanding you, I’m sorry, I’m American. But did you say my room at the agency? As in… your hero agency?”
“You’re American?” Kirishima asked with wide red eyes. “I wouldn’t have even guessed! Your accent is almost perfect, I thought you were maybe just from like the countryside or something.”
“I thought you said we were supposed to be nice to her,” Bakugo snorted at his partner like you weren’t in the room, and he saw you frown at him out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh, shit, no, that wasn’t what I meant!” Japan’s Number Three Hero immediately began waving his hands in front of his face, his mouth moving twice as fast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I really think your accent sounds nice! It’s very cute!”
Now, not only did your cheeks flush again, but the red hue traveled down your throat and across your collarbones, peeking out the stretched collar of your orange sweatshirt.
Bakugo found himself half distracted by the sight, but the other half was wondering why he suddenly felt irritation flare up in his gut.
“Okay, you don’t have to take her out on a date now,” the blond snapped, shifting his burden of fruit and plastic.
“I-I think we might have gotten off track,” you stuttered as you clutched the bag of Dynamight and Red Riot merch to your chest. “You said something about your agency.”
“Yes, right.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “We would have mentioned this in our follow up email after you sent in your insurance info, but—”
“Oh, no, I’m so sorry!” you cut him off with a grimace, and you actually dipped your head and shoulders into a bow. “I meant to send that yesterday, but my laptop is broken, and my cell service isn’t great—”
“No, no, it’s fine!” the redhead interrupted this time. “You obviously have a lot on your plate. I just meant that this might seem kind of sudden, but—”
Fucking hell, this was taking too long.
“You’re staying at our agency until we can pay for the repairs to your apartment and shop,” Bakugo said bluntly. If he didn’t step in, the two of you were just going to stammer circles around each other all day. “Starting tonight. We have rooms with beds and shit, so pack whatever clothes or crap you need.”
Your mouth fell open as you gaped at Bakugo. “I… what?”
“You deaf or something?” The words rocketed from his mouth before he could stop them, before he could even think about what he was saying, and he saw the way the question struck you like a physical blow. You flinched, your cheeks paling, and he saw dawning, guilty horror glint at the back of your eyes.
He’d been right. You did do something to his ears.
“Bro, you were just talking about being nice.” Kirishima frowned at Bakugo before he turned back to you. “Ignore him. We’re really sorry about the inconvenience this whole… incident has caused for you, but we’ll take care of everything you need until your shop’s grand reopening, so you don’t have to worry about a thing, okay?”
You continued to stare at the two heroes in shocked silence, your wide eyes clicking back and forth between the two of them as you clutched the bags to your chest like a lifeline.
“That is… all so generous,” you finally breathed, your tone rising in pitch like you were growing increasingly flustered. “It’s, um, a lot to take in.”
“Of course.” Kirishima nodded fervently. “What else can we do to help?”
“Could you leave?”
Bakugo blinked in surprise and then had to stifle his snort.
“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” you quickly followed up when you saw the redhead’s falling expression. “I didn’t mean… I just meant, could I have some time to process this? Um, alone? L-Like Dynamight said, I need to pack a few things, a-and there are some people I need to speak to before, uh… well, is it okay if I tell someone where I’ll be? Like, at your agency?”
“Yessss?” Kirishima said with a confused frown. “Why wouldn’t that be okay?”
“O-Oh, I just don’t really know how the whole hero and media thing works here,” you quickly lied, and Bakugo clocked the way you averted your eyes, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. “I-I wasn’t going to post on social media or anything, I barely use that stuff anyway, but one of my customers, Mrs. Kojima, would be upset if I disappeared without saying anything.”
“Aww, that’s sweet.” The redhead grinned before he glanced at the shadowed ruins around him. “What kind of shop is this by the way? I don’t think you mentioned.”
“A-Alterations,” you said, ducking your face in embarrassment again. “My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress. I inherited this place from them.”
“I thought you said you were American?” Kirishima asked, but not in an accusatory way. He was just too curious for his own good and didn’t possess much of a filter.
Bakugo usually didn’t care for small talk, fucking waste of time if you asked him, but he found himself focusing intently on you, awaiting a response.
“I am.” You nodded. “My parents were both born here, but they moved to the States after they married, and I was born there. After my grandparents passed, my dad was going to sell the shop, but I was looking for something… new, so I decided to move here instead about a year ago.”
Bakugo pursed his lips at this new information. If you had a healing quirk, why were you patching up clothes in some little shop all the way across the world from your surviving family? Could it be because your quirk was dangerous?
“Wow, that’s cool,” Kirishima said with an impressed expression that quickly turned sheepish. “Except about your grandparent’s passing. My condolences.”
“Thank you,” you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips, but then you quickly shook your head. “I-I’m sorry, didn’t mean to give you my whole life story, I tend to talk when I’m nervous.”
“You don’t have to be nervous,” Red Riot laughed like he did when he was meeting shy little kids on the street, flashing his sharpened teeth jokingly and winking in an overexaggerated fashion. “I promise, we look scarier than we are.”
“Speak for yourself, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo scoffed, which made you jump, like you’d forgotten he was there.
And that rubbed him the wrong way for some reason.
Kirishima merely smirked before he partially covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his voice into a stage whisper directed at you. “All bark, no bite, I’m telling you.”
“Stop making me seem lame, you bastard!” the blond growled, but the effect was kind of ruined by the fruit basket crinkling in his hands again.
This actually seemed to startle a giggle out of you, and the two heroes whipped around, one with a grin and the other a scowl.
“See, you don’t need to be nervous,” Kirishima said before he slung an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. “But we’ll get out of your hair for now so you can have some time to pack and everything. Don’t worry about picking up too much, though, we’ll have cleaning crews in here before we start the remodel, and we don’t want you to get hurt in here. If there’s stuff up in your apartment that you don’t want to bring with you to the agency but don’t want thrown out, make a list, and we’ll be sure to keep everything safe.”
“O-Okay,” you said, still standing there with the hero merch clenched to your chest and a dumbstruck expression on your face. “T-Thank you again, Red--, erm, Kirishima.”
“Of course!” He grinned. “I have patrol tonight, but we’ll send a car to pick you up—”
“No,” Bakugo cut in as he locked eyes with you. “I’ll pick you up. What time?”
The blond could see Kirishima shoot him a look in his peripherals—probably because they both had patrol tonight—but Bakugo ignored his partner, maintaining eye contact with you.
You, meanwhile, squirmed under the explosive hero’s intense scrutiny, your face paling and flushing in turns. “I… no, you don’t have to do that, I can take the train—”
“I insist,” he interrupted again, narrowing his eyes so you would realize he wasn’t going to back down. “Like Shitty Hair said, we caused this… inconvenience, so I’ll pick you up. What. Time?”
You swallowed thickly, your throat audibly clicking. “S-Seven?”
“I’ll be here at seven sharp,” Bakugo said. “And you better be out front or at least answer your phone this time.”
You better not run, he didn’t say, but by the look on your face, you understood.
“Seven sharp.” You nodded, biting your lip as a resigned expression settled over your features. “Got it.”
“Great. See you then.”
With that, Bakugo turned on heel and crunched his way out of your store, leaving Kirishima stuttering apologies in his wake.
But that didn’t matter.
All that mattered was, tonight, he’d finally get you alone and get to the bottom of your damn quirk.
#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo katuski x reader#bakugo katsuki x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x you#bakugo/you#bakugo/reader#bakugo katsuki/reader#bakugo katsuki/you#katsuki bakugo/you#katsuki bakugo/reader#bakugo katsuki#mha#my hero academia#bnha#boku no hero academia#my writings#fanfic#deaf!bakugou
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Bloodletting part II - Prologue
Words: 1,820k
Summary: Guns n Roses are already known for being dangerous, but how dangerous would they be if they were vampires? Would it be a wiseful decision to fall for one of them?
A/N: Next week the x reader part will start! I’m making a playlist inspired by this (sorry, I just couldn’t hold myself sjdhs). I’ll be posting one part every Tuesday. Also, from now and on, tag list will be at the end of the fic :)
Some initial information: this series will take place in 2020, but without the pandemic. If you already read part 1 (which was posted last year) please ignore any pairs that the boys have had (Slash’s case), here they are all single.
Moodboards | Part I | Part III
Los Angeles, 2016.
“What the fuck died in here?” Izzy asked as he entered Axl’s victorian house in Los Angeles.
It was night outside and all the curtains were closed, putting the entire house in complete darkness. If Izzy wasn’t a vampire, he surely wouldn’t be able to see anything.
The smell of blood and something decomposing had caught his nostrils as soon as he opened the door, making him cover his nose with his hand.
“I did.” Axl’s hoarse voice came from upstairs, he wasn’t yelling, he knew his friend could hear even his breath from the floor below.
Izzy rolled his eyes, starting to climb the stairs. “Yeah, but it was almost a thousand years ago.”
Reaching the second floor, Axl was sitting on the floor, a bottle of Scotch Whisky in his hands as his shirtless figure looked at his friend.
“Shit, when was the last time you took shower?” Izzy wrinkled his nose in disgust.
The redhead shrugged. “Am fuckin tired, Iz.”
“Don’t tell me you’re in that I Hate Myself phase again.” The brunette started walking through the corridors, going in the direction of the decomposing smell that had gotten stronger.
“I fucking do! I hate what I am.”
“It’s useless to hate yourself, we already talked about it.” He stopped in front of a door, the smell was definitely coming from behind it.
“And what am I supposed to do, Isbell?”
Izzy opened the door, covering his nose one more time when he saw the dead body of a girl inside, she didn’t look older than 25 and was dead for at least a couple of hours now. A human would never be able to smell her though.
“Axl, if I know you well, and I like to think I do, this happens every time you’re alone.”
“I’m always alone, Isbell.”
“I told you to go to New York with me last year.” He closed the door, moving closer to the redhead.
“I’m not going to fucking New York.”
“And what are you going to do then? Kill yourself? You know that it’s impossible.”
“Believe me, I know.”
Izzy frowned, squatting down in front of him, a circular bruise on his chest indicated that he had shot himself there, not so long ago.
He shook his head. “When did you do it?”
“Last night.”
“How did it feel?”
“I passed out. Woke up a few minutes later and it fucking hurt, I had to take the fucking bullet out of it. Wasn’t nice.”
“At least it’s almost healed.”
“I’m fucking tired of not feeling anything. Not even this fucking whisky can make me drunk anymore.” He threw the bottle on the other side of the corridor, its glass hitting the wall and breaking in many pieces.
Izzy rubbed his forehead. “That’s it! Pack your stuff, you’re going to New York with me.”
“I’m not fucking daeing that.” He got up, entering his office and getting a cigarette in his wooden box.
“You’re becoming reckless. There’s a body in your house and at some point, someone will miss the girl. It’s not 1720 anymore, they have cameras everywhere now, it’s a matter of days until they find you.”
Axl looked at him, but didn’t say anything.
Izzy removed his blazer, placing it on a chair in front of the desk and removing his tie. “I’m gonna take care of the body, be ready when I’m back.”
---
The flight to New York was quiet, Axl was too proud to thank his friend for helping him and Izzy was in his own world, enjoying the silence in the first class while drinking some gin.
Arriving in the city around midday, they were quite a sight. Izzy in a suit with a long and expensive grey coat over it, matched with his black sunglasses and grey-black hat, while Axl wore a pair of black ripped jeans and a leather jacket, also wearing black sunglasses.
It was winter in New York, as they walked towards the uber who would drive them to Izzy’s new house in the city. A three-floor gothic construction from the XIX century, which he had sent some pictures to Axl via letters, since Axl refused to have a cell phone.
“What the fuck are you doing in New York after all?”
“Business, Axl.”
He knew that Izzy had business in many places, he always knew what to do with his money, no wonders why he was the richest vampire he knew. But the fact that Izzy changed Amsterdam for New York was still something he couldn’t justify.
“And why moving here?”
“There are some cool people around.”
“Since when dae ya care about who’s around?”
“I do feel lonely sometimes too, Axl.”
And then silence was spread in the car again.
After almost an hour, they stopped in front of a huge house, its walls were in exposed brick and the garden in front had some trees that had lost their leaves with the cold weather.
Exiting the car, Izzy stopped on the sidewalk, getting a cigarette from his pack and offering one to Axl, which he silently thanked. He lighted both cigarettes before speaking up:
“There will be some people inside, I want you to be cordial to them.”
Axl scoffed. “And since when ah umnae cordial?” He passed through Izzy, stopping in front of the front door while waiting for the brunette.
Izzy rolled his eyes, but opened the door. The house was in the same way as when he left, the smell of old books and wooden, mixed with a little alcoholic scent, along with a small hint of blood coming from the freezers in the basement.
“Hello, Izzy.” A blonde guy, smaller than them, approached the two of them, he was coming from the kitchen and there was a huge smile on his face. “You must be Axl.”
Axl looked him up and down, scanning his figure. He wore blue jeans and a red bomber jacket.
He can’t be older than 20, Axl thought to himself.
“Ya, I am.” He passed through the blonde, looking at every piece of the house. “Where’s my room, Izzy?”
“Hello, Steven.” Izzy chose to ignore the redhead, moving towards the fireplace room.
“How was your trip?”
“It was good, Steven. Thanks for asking.”
“Is he English like you and Slash? He sounds different.”
Axl averted his eyes to the blonde, with a mortal glare. “Ah umnae fucking English. I’m Scottish!”
“Oh, sorry! Well, but you are all British, so it’s almost the same thing right?” He smiled, trying to start a conversation.
“Izzy, what is this bampot talking about?” Axl started to move towards Steven, but Izzy stopped him.
“Control yourself.” He gave Axl a stern look before taking a long breath.
“You must be Axl. Nice jacket.” Another blonde showed up, he had a pack of chips in his hands and he entered the room. He was taller than the rest of them and looked like he was 21 or 22. He wore black jeans and a denim jacket on top of a grey sweater.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Duff.” He pointed to himself before throwing himself on the couch.
“The guy in the library is Slash, he’s English too.” Izzy pointed towards the library, to which Axl only nodded in understanding. “Come, I’ll show you your room.”
Picking up his suitcase, Axl followed him up the stairs, lots of old pictures of Izzy and his friends were on display on the wall, and Axl almost smiled when he saw a picture of the two of them together.
Izzy stopped at the end of the corridor, opening a door on his right side. Inside the room, the walls were in a cream color and the furniture, the floor was in the darkest shade of wood Izzy could’ve found. There was a huge bed with white sheets and a white big bathroom, with a big mirror inside. The room’s windows gave Axl a view of the front yard and the street.
“Good enough for you?” Izzy asked.
“Ya.” He placed his suitcase on the floor and sat at the edge of the bed, watching as Izzy sat on the white armchair in front of the windows.
“Why did you go after me, Iz?”
Izzy took a deep breath, inhaling the last of his smoke. “I had a dream.” He exhaled the smoke. “You were in a lake and you were drowning, and you didn’t seem to make a move to get out of there.” He paused for a second. “I thought something was wrong with you.”
Axl nodded, staying in silence for a while before speaking up again. “And who are these people?”
“I met Slash on the plane to here, we were sitting next to each other, and we obviously knew what we were. He turned out to be a nice guy, but he had nowhere to stay here, I told him he could stay with me for a while.”
“And what about the other two?”
“Duff’s the owner of a bar, not too far from here, he’s cool, introduced me to some nice music. He used to live in the apartment on top of it, but it needed some reforms, and he’s staying here ever since the reform started.”
“And when will the reform be over?”
“They finished it about 3 months ago.”
“Why is he still here then?”
“Because we’re friends, just like Steven, who’s a friend of Duff’s, he was here all the time, and then I simply decided to tell him to stay permanently.”
“Since when do you care about friends?”
“I know that you’re in a terrible mood, and that the idea of living with other people is strange for you after so many years living alone. But the thing is: we all want the same thing Axl.”
“And what’s that?”
“A family.”
Axl stared into his eyes.
“It’s the only thing we can’t have, and even though we are very different, we are a family, or a clan, or whatever. We miss having people who care for us around, and we miss the feeling of belonging to something. You’ll understand it, not today, but you will some time, and then you’ll be thankful for having these people around you.”
Izzy got up, leaving the room and closing the door behind him, leaving Axl to think about his words.
---
Turns out that Izzy was right. In the first weeks, Axl would stay on his own, only joining during their daily meal and not saying a word. But after a while, he started to loosen up. He and Duff got really along, and he made Axl see the good part of Steven's and Slash’s personality.
And now, after four years living together and being this so-called clan, they learned how to coexist with each other and ended up becoming close friends, or even brothers, Steven dared to say. And in their own weird way, they became a family.
Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @bigdaddylars @dynamitebabe @tuffduff @mitchgrassified @gamsbeans @hooloovooblue @normatural @axlsbabygirl @mudkicker @dazeduchess @izzysjujuhounds @pinkpatiencecreepers @smokeandmirrorz
Add yourself to my tag list :)
#harley writes#bloodletting#guns n roses#guns n roses fanfic#guns n roses as vampires#gnr#axl rose#axl rose fanfic#Izzy Stradlin#izzy stradlin fanfic#duff mckagan#duff mckagan fanfic#slash#slash fanfic#steven adler#steven adler fanfic#classic rock#classic rock imagine
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Bucci Gang Headcanons!! (pt 2)
I was in the Bucci gang mood, so I managed to compile these together!! Jade wasn’t bouncing around ideas with me this time, but @achairwithapandaonit was with me on Discord for some of these! Go check them out, as well! Both their fics and art are *mwah*
These are a little less cracky than the ones that Jade and I came up with, but they were still super fun to come up with! I hope you enjoy!
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Contrary to popular belief, Narancia is actually much closer to Abbacchio than he is with Bucciarati
-Any shit going on in his head? He’ll go to Abba. Maybe not directly, but he always find himself talking to Leone about stuff at 3am or burying his face into the man’s shoulder on bad nights
-Bruno is great for hugs and trying to help him in any way he can, but sometimes Nara just needs someone to listen and understand. Cue dadbacchio
-Abbacchio hugs are rare in general, but they’re almost always for Narancia
On the other hand, Bucciarati and Fugo are probably the most tightly-knit in the entire house
-Fugo was the first one that Bruno finds in the whole gang and they spent a significant amount of time living together before everyone else came into the picture
-Fugo will not hug people, but Bruno is an exception (Although it took years of trust to get there)
-Bucciarati claims not to have a favourite but like,,,,Fugo ;-;
-They basically have each other’s mannerisms nailed down. Bruno can usually tell when Fugo’s about to snap and Fugo can tell how stressed Bruno is no matter what blank expression he holds up as a front
-Bruno is the only one who knows why Fugo can’t talk about his experiences at University and Fugo is the only one who knows why Bruno loves (and simultaneously hates) the sea so much. Not even Abba really knows that shit.
-They’re just used to destressing together. Sometimes they just sit together when no one else is around and literally *become* the “Lie down. Try not to cry. Cry a lot” meme and then they watch Star Wars after and never talk about it again because they’re both emotionally constipated lol
Giorno seems well-rounded with intelligence but he’s actually a registered dummy™
-He’s actually only really good at Biology and some math, but any other subject is like No Man’s Land to him
-Everyone thinks he has all this paperwork all the time when in reality he just reads really slowly and doesn’t understand half the shit he’s signing off on
-He’s so tired of avoiding Fugo who always wants to do weird smart people shit and he’s so tired of Mista asking him intellectual questions because he thinks Giorno’s the smartest being on this earth so he turns to the one person who he knows won’t judge him; Narancia
-He admits to Nara that he’s really not smart and he’s scared that people won’t think him valid anymore if he proves to be “useless” and Narancia’s like “shit bro I know exactly what you mean”
-He helps Giorno make up excuses to try and get him out of shit when Bruno slinks out of the shadows like “heyyyyy uhhh I don’t even have a middle school education I get it”
-Honestly Bruno and Gio are the CEOs of “fake it til you make it” and they make Narancia do all their math even though he’s shit at it too
-Narancia has the choice to stop learning math and all that stuff but after Bruno admitted to them that he never had the chance to learn it and wished he did he keeps learning to make our man proud ;’)
Giorno has a really confident personality as a front but when he's outside of meetings and missions he's the most socially awkward person on earth
-Him and Fugo will both be sitting stiffly on the couch between missions and they fuckin bond over being able to command capos but not being able to ask Bruno where in the kitchen he put the cookies
-Him and Fugo create a master plan to try and find the cookies without asking anyone for them but end up giving up and creeping over to Narancia in defeat
-They're both awkwardly hovering behind him as Narancia walks into the kitchen and is like "YO WHERE THE COOKIES AT" and Bruno pulls open the one drawer they didn't look in
-Part of it stems from him being brought up with “if you want things or ask too much from people you are worthless” so he’s too scared to ask for basic things like where the extra blankets are or ordering food he actually wants at a restaurant
-Bruno and Giorno go out for lunch together after a meeting and Bruno has to go take a call and tells him to get the bill for him while he's gone and meet him outside and after like 20 minutes he ends the call and goes back in like ??? only to find him still sitting at the table
-Bruno's like "do you just want me to ask for it?" and he's like "uhhh yeah..."
-The waiter says some shit like “yeah I was wondering when you were gonna ask for it, this kid wouldn’t even look at me whenever I would walk by” and Giorno is absolutely visibly mortified and has an existential crisis on the way home because his “sit down and be quiet” mindset that he has to be contradicts the “don’t cause trouble for people” that he also has to be and now he’s questioning everything he’s ever done ;-;
-Bucci notices immediately and takes him for gelato and they have a really long conversation about it on the walk home and it ends with a really awkward hug :)
-Bucciarati’s gone out of his way after that instance to tell him that he just wants him to feel comfortable and he can talk to him about anything without judgement and it’s okay to be awkward and out of his element because he’s literally 15 and has the worst trust issues on the planet but Gio just ends up feeling guilty that he’s wasting everyone’s time with his “problems”
Bruno will hole himself up in his room and absolutely hates attention and contact when he’s sick while Abbacchio is the clingiest, whiniest thing that lives when he’s under the weather
Giorno longs for physical affection but he has no idea how it actually works
-He’s never really been hugged before and tries to suppress the fact that he just wants to trust people and be open about stuff and hug people but his mind always consciously rejects it
-When Giorno's sick or out of it he get weirdly clingy cause he's too out of it to control himself and the first time he got properly sick he half-consciously clung to Mista the entire day
-After that day, Mista slowly starts giving him all these spontaneous hugs and head pats and hand squeezes and Giorno gets all flustered about it because he is just drowning in serotonin :)
The first person in the gang Giorno cried in front of was Trish
-He was really emotionally drained from endless meetings and angry capos and everyone asking everything from him for the past week
-He also ran into some kid from his old neighbourhood who asked him why he hadn’t been “home” lately and it fucked him up for the rest of the week
-He just finished a shit ton of paperwork when he got a knock at the door and he was expecting another task or favour or complaint but instead Trish asks him if she can paint his nails and he just absolutely crumples
-He’s being pulled into her room before he can even notice and there’s a fluffy blanket wrapped around him and she lets him cry into her softest pillow
-She doesn’t ask about it but just lets him sit there with her and he ends up falling asleep on her bed :’)
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God Giorno and Trish being a nice lil platonic duo makes me so soft :)
Have you seen Bucci Gang headcanons part one? Go check it out if you haven't yet! <3
#bruno bucciarati#bruno buccellati#bucci gang#jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind#jjba#jjba headcanons#leone abbacchio#narancia ghirga#pannacotta fugo#giorno giovanna#guido mista#trish una#bucciarati gang#hurt/comfort#ask-c-c-cherry#asks
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Lets See A Smile
AN: My first Hazbin fic! There’s not nearly enough fics for it so here I am! Had a blast writing it, hope y’all enjoy! Angel and Alastor have such a fun dynamic!
Angel sighed in relief as his shift finally came to an end. You'd think a hotel with virtually no patrons would make for an easy work day, but when one of those guests was none other than fucking Sir Pentious of all people, you might as well jump off the highest cliff in hell. He kicked open the door to the break room, eager to vent to his friends.
"You would not BELIEVE the day I had! Next time you need someone to deal with Sir Penis get someone else to do it 'cause there's no way I'm going back up there to pick up eggshells and 20 feet of snake skin," he exclaimed dramatically, eyes closed with an arm thrown over his face like a damsel. Alastor popped his head up from where he was laying on the couch.
"I will be sure to let Charlie know of your complaint," he said. Angel's eyes flew open as he pushed himself away from the wall.
"What, you? Where's Charlie? Or Vaggie?" he asked, not too pleased to see the radio demon when he was expecting his gal pals.
"Don't you remember? Tonight is their anniversary!" Alastor said in a cheery tone. Angel crossed his first pair of arms and rested another hand on his hip.
"Oh yeah, forgot about that," he said dismissively. Alastor sat up fully now, resting his feet on the floor instead of taking up the whole couch. He tilted his head quizzically, taking in the other demon.
"What, you got some fuckin' problem?" Angel asked, noticing his intense stare. Alastor shook his head, looking away.
"Not at all Angel, but from the sounds of it, you do." Angel rolled his eyes.
"Yeah and he's on the third floor," he said with a huff. Alastor scooted over and patted the cushion next to him invitingly.
"Why don't you sit?" Angel's face lit up as he strolled over.
"Hey don't mind if I do," he said before plopping right in Alastor's lap. He blushed and faltered.
"Wha- Not on me!" he exclaimed and shoved him off. Angel Dust chuckled, settling into a proper seat.
"Sorry, you didn't specify," he smirked. Alastor glared at him with a small growl.
"You know damn well that's not what I meant." They fell into a slightly awkward silence. Alastor sat stiffly while Angel sprawled across the sofa, taking up most of the room and not seeming to care. Alastor liked to pride himself in his ability to read other people, and right now it was obvious that Angel was not himself. Oh sure he would try and act like his usual flamboyant and snarky self, but apparently their customer had really gotten under his skin. He didn't like seeing the other demon so upset. He tapped his fingers on his knees, letting out a low whistle that mixed with the smallest whine of microphone feedback.
"Soooo..." he started. Angel only raised a brow. "Would you care to talk about it?"
"Eh, not really. That slithery prick's already eaten up too much of my time," he dismissed. After a brief pause he let out a long suffering sigh, arching his back over the arm of the couch and just let himself hang there. This caused Alastor himself to sigh.
"Well you're obviously upset about it, and normally I'd dump you off on Charlie but she's not here right now, so you're stuck with me. And while I may not be very good at this, I would like to cheer you up. Is there, um, anything I could do to maybe help?" Angel raised himself up, a little skeptical.
"You serious?"
"Yes! After all you're never fully dressed without a smile! And you sir are lacking the appropriate attire," he justified.
"Yeah well, I'm a slut, so what do you expect?" he asked, though he allowed himself to relax a bit. "Can you, no ya know what, never mind," Angel stopped himself mid sentence. And was that a blush creeping up his face? Needless to say Alastor was intrigued.
"No do go on!" he encouraged. Angel waved a hand as if to brush him off.
"Naw you wouldn't like it."
"Nonsense! And if I don't like it, I'll just talk about it behind your back to Husk like a normal person," he admitted. Angel considered this and shrugged.
"Well at least you're honest. So, what I was gonna say was, uh, can I have a hug?" he asked sheepishly. He reached up and rubbed a hand behind his neck, "It's just I'm a little tired and upset, and I'm kinda used to it with Charlie around. Hehe, look at me, goin' soft..." he trailed off. Alastor- didn't really know what to say. So instead he just leaned back into the sofa and held out his arms. Angel broke into a shy grin and cuddled against him. Alastor rested his arms around him, not allowing himself to fully relax into the hug. Not yet at least. Affectionate touch was still kinda new for him. But he had to admit, it did feel nice. It gave him a warm kind of comfort he hadn't felt in forever, and he let himself sink into the feeling.
"Ya know what Al? You actually give pretty good hugs. Heh, better not let Charlie know, am I right?" he joked with a poke to his side. Alastor went completely rigid, his hold on Angel tightened ever so slightly. This didn't go unnoticed.
"Al, you okay there buddy? Didn't hurt ya, did I?" he asked. He doubted he could even hurt him if he tried, but he wanted to make sure.
"W-what? You hurt me? Oh please," he tried to play it off, hoping he would just drop it. But this is Angel Dust we're talking about, he's not one to simply "drop" things. Not to mention, he's had years of experience in his old line of work. He's learned all there is to know about the body and it's various reactions to touch. Which is why it only took him a second to figure out what had happened.
"If you're ticklish you coulda just said so, I woulda left you alone," he said casually. Alastor's jaw dropped in mild horror and shock, pushing the other demon away.
"I am no such thing!" he adamantly denied. Angel raised a brow, a sly smirk creeping onto his face.
"Oh please, big scary tough guy like you? Definitely ticklish," he said, watching Alastor's reactions from the corner of his eye. Despite his best efforts to keep it at bay, a blush rose to his cheeks. As Angel spoke, he let one of his hands wander closer to Alastor's side.
He was just about to snap at him, a sharp retort on the tip on his tongue, when Angel's hand connected with his side. He let out a startled noise, jerking away and snapped his head to look at Angel. The smile he gave the radio demon was completely predatory and feral. Alastor found himself scooting away.
"Now Angel, don't do anything you'll regret," he warned, but his voice wavered with nerves.
"Trust me, I ain't gonna regret this," he said, lunging forth and straddling a very shocked Alastor. He wasn't used to people not taking his threats seriously and was a bit stunned. He tried to grab Angel's hands to block him, but he countered by pinning his wrists with his first set of arms. He chuckled, wiggling his fingers above his stomach. Alastor struggled, trying to free himself.
"What's the matter? Forget I had these?" Angel asked. He emphasized his point by skittering his fingers all along his belly, making him burst into staticky giggles.
"Stohohop this ihihinstant!" Alastor demanded through his laughter. Angel Dust leaned forward, grinning widely. Alastor could see his own hysterical reflection shinning in Angel's eyes, so he looked away, too embarrassed to see the giggly mess he'd become.
"Nah, I don't really feel like it. Besides, I think this is the first time I've heard you laugh! I'm having way too much fun to stop!"
"Thahahat's nohot true! Ihihi laugh ahahall the time," he tried to speak through his manic giggles.
Angel shrugged, "Yeah but laughing at your own lame jokes don't count. Kinda pathetic actually." He added another pair of arms to the mix, reaching behind him to squeeze and scratch at his knees. Alastor drummed his legs on the couch, his laughter increasing in volume and pitch. Radio static mixed more frequently with his laugh, making Angel coo.
Dohohon't patronize mehehe!" Alastor cried.
"I'm not! But you gotta admit Al, your laugh is adorable," he teased, making his voice a higher pitch and using the same tone that he normally talks to Fat Nuggets with. He brought his third pair of arms up to squeeze at his sides, the second pair starting to crawl up his ribs as he sang.
"The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout." Though he thought it to be impossible, Alastor's laughter increased even more. "Down, came the rain and washed the spider out." He raked his knuckles down his ribs, making him arch his back with a cackle. As he finished the nursery rhyme, he let his fingers walk back up his ribs before attacking his exposed underarms.
Alastor squealed before his voice faded into the high pitched screech of a microphone. Angel jerked back in shock at the loud noise, covering his ears as he fell back on the couch. His eyes were squeezed shut as he fell into a giggle fit, clutching his stomach with his many arms. He brought a hand up to wipe away a few tears as Alastor recovered.
His breathing was already beginning to return to normal, but his face was still a burning crimson. Angel patted his leg comfortingly before he rose from the couch, stretching as he spoke.
"Oh man, that was fun. Never knew ya could laugh like that Smiles," he said, settling back onto the cushions. Because he was so tall, Alastor was taking up most of the space, causing Angel to huff and kick his legs with his boot. "Skooch over, you're takin' up the whole damn couch," he grumbled. Alastor finally sat up, seemingly recovered. His cheeks were still sporting a decent flush and he brushed himself off, trying to scrap together his remaining dignity by straightening his crumpled clothes. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"You have ten seconds," he stated calmly. Angel raised a brow.
"Ten seconds to do what?" he asked.
"Why, to run of course," Alastor stated as though it were obvious.
"Hell no, I ain't runnin'! I just got comfy," he said, gesturing to his already lounging position. Alastor shrugged, his residual smile widening into something more sinister.
"Very well, it is your funeral after all." Angel's eyebrows furrowed together, beginning to connect the dots. He opened his mouth to protest, only to be cut off.
"Nine."
Angel's eyes widened and he scrambled to get as far away from the radio demon as possible. In such a rush, his legs got tangled and he stumbled over himself before rushing out the door. Alastor was already down to six. He rushed down the hall and into the lobby, looking for cover. There was no way he could out run him, so his only chance was to hide. He only hesitated for a second before his eyes landed on the bar and he sprinted towards it.
Husk saw him coming and shook his head. "Oh hell no, you already used up all your points," he said casually. He jumped back with a hiss, fur standing on end when Angel made a move to dive over the bar.
"This ain't about that, you gotta hide me!" he pleaded, gripping onto his shirt. Husk shoved him off.
"What the hell did you get into now?" he asked, running a hand down his tired face.
"No time to explain, just go on about your business and act like I ain't here," he said, crouching down underneath the bar. "Oh and if Al asks, say you haven't seen me."
Husker's eyes widened, shaking his head. "Sorry, but I'm not covering for you. This is your mess, you deal with it. I don't wanna get caught in the cross hairs of whatever you did to piss him off," he said, trying to drag Angel Dust out from underneath the countertop. Angel cursed as he struggled to stay put, already forced halfway out. It was then that Alastor himself leisurely strolled into the lobby. His eyes fell on Angel, and he twirled his microphone stand gleefully.
"Oh Angel there you are!" he exclaimed. Angel let out a small scream before leaping back over the bar, much to Husk's annoyance. As he ran out of the room, he used two hands to flip Husk off.
"Wow thanks for bein' fucking useless!"
Husk cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled after him. "I'll be sure to remember that next time you ask for a drink!" He sighed in defeat, bending down to arrange the various glasses and bottles he had knocked over. Alastor came up and leaned against the bar.
"I'll take a glass of water real quick, if you don't mind," he said. Husk complied, filling it up with tap before sliding it over to him.
"The hell he do to you? Kid was so desperate to get away you'd think he was fleeing for his life." Upon hearing the question, Al's ear twitched, another blush dusting his cheeks as he looked away. Husk looked him up and down and spoke once more. "Then again maybe he is."
"Mm. If you'll excuse me Husker, I believe I must enact some well deserved revenge." The bar tender chuckled.
"Alright, but don't rough him up too much. Charlie'll have your head if you hurt him."
Alastor waved a hand lazily as he made his way in the direction that Angel ran off. "No need to worry, our friend shall be in good hands." He sent his shadow in search of the fleeing man, rolling up his sleeves in preparation. In his time alive, one of the things he adored most was the thrill of the chase. The adrenaline rush that came with hunting down his prey was nearly more enjoyable than the act of killing. Almost. But oh how he relished in the fear glistening in their eyes and their labored breath as they were inevitably trapped, watching as he closed in. He found he was eager to see that look in Angel's eyes, though for a completely different reason.
Angel was close to his room now. He had had a few close calls, turning down halls that suddenly lead to nowhere, catching the glimpse of a dark shadow from the corner of his eye. He knew Al was fucking with him, but he was determined to make it to safety. He was almost there; he could see his door at the end of the hall. He ran that much harder, only to find he wasn't getting any closer. He looked down at his legs that were running in place and felt dread sink to the bottom of his stomach. He heard a deep, staticky chuckle from behind and gasped, trying with all his might to get to his room.
"Oh c'mon!" he yelled out in an exasperated tone, looking over his shoulder only to see the grinning deer. He gave a small wave, tilting his head to the side. Whatever magic Alastor had him trapped with vanished, and he let out a victory cry as he threw himself at his door, opening it before slamming it shut and locking it behind him. He let out a deep sigh of relief, shoulders slacking as he leaned against the door. The wood felt cool against his cheek, and he smiled to himself, finally knowing he was safe.
A slow clap sounded from behind him, and his breath hitched and caught in his throat. He whirled around to see Alastor, sitting on his bed with a stupidly smug grin as he applauded.
"Splendid! You put on quite a good show I must say, but I'm afraid the previews are over." Angel reached for the knob, only it was locked by his own doing. He pressed his back against the wall, smiling sheepishly as the man stood and slowly made his way closer to him.
"Look, A-Al, no hard feelings, right? I won't tell a soul I swear! You got my word, I'm sorry," he tried to plead.
"Did you really think I'd let you get away without having my revenge?" he asked calmly. Angel shrugged.
"Well I mean, yeah. I mean- I was hoping for it," he corrected himself, rubbing a hand behind his neck with a chuckle. Alastor snapped his fingers, opening a portal in the floor. All of a sudden, tentacles reached out and grabbed Angel and forced him onto the bed, pinning all of his limbs.
He blinked in shock before smirking. "Can't say this isn't what I'm used to. Been in worse bondage situations than this, let me tell ya," he mused, trying to mask his growing fear with his usual flirtations. Alastor sat next to him on the bed and he tried to squirm away, not getting very far. Angel shrunk in on himself, feeling very exposed underneath Alastor's gaze, and not in the way he would've liked. He gulped and spoke. "So uh, I normally ask this question with a lot more enthusiasm, but- what are you gonna do to me?" he ventured to question.
Alastor answered gladly. "I would've thought you were smart enough to know but clearly I overestimated you." Angel let out a cry of protest only to be cut off.
"I'm sure you know the phrase "an eye for an eye,"" he said, casting a sly look his way. That alone made Angel's chest shake as he fought to force down his chuckles. He tugged at his bonds but they held strong, not allowing any leeway.
"Ahahal I'm sorry! I won't do it again, promise!" Alastor smirked and rested a hand on his stomach. Angel jerked at the touch, barely holding back a squeal.
"Oh I know you won't, but I have to make sure the lesson is ingrained in your thick skull so you won't even think about trying it again." He looked down at him, smirk growing as he drummed his fingers along his stomach.
"Nohohooo," Angel whined through his giggles, trying to suck in his stomach to get away from the touch.
"Laughing so soon? Oh this is going to be fun," Alastor practically growled through static. "So, are you willing to speed things along and tell me your worst spots? Or are you going to do this the hard way?"
Angel was already in deep, he knew he shouldn't say it but the guy gift wrapped a perfect chance for a dirty joke and gave it to him on a silver platter. He couldn't help himself. "Oh you know I like it hard," he all but purred. Alastor's eye twitched and he flicked an ear. Angel's flirtatious smirk quickly fell flat as he saw his life flash before his eyes.
"Nonono wait I take it back-"
"Too late Angel. I'm delighted to say that you just dug your second grave." He dug his claws into his stomach, grin growing as he watched him writhe underneath his touch. Angel bit his lip, trying to contain his titters. Maybe if he held out long enough, Alastor would grow bored and give up. Angel always was a dreamer.
"Hm, I wouldn't have thought you of all people would play hard to get," Alastor mused. Angel screwed his eyes shut biting his lip so hard he began to taste blood. "But you'll crack sooner or later," he said. Angel was wearing a loose t-shirt, so it was easy for him to slip his hand underneath. The reaction was instantaneous; he burst into frantic cackles, tugging on his wrists weakly. Alastor gave him a lazy, nonchalant smile. "See, I knew you'd come around!"
"Nohoho you cahahan't do this to mehehe," he cried out.
"Oh but I can! In fact, I'm doing it right now!" he said with a flourish, followed by a laugh track that could barely be heard over Angel's mirth. He let out an annoyed huff when the baggy shirt slid back down over his stomach due to his squirming. "Why don't we get this out of the way?" he asked. Before Angel could question him, he snapped his fingers leaving Angel's chest bare.
"Hey that was my favorite shirt you asshole!" Alastor didn't dignify that with a response. Well, not a verbal one anyways. The thin pink line trailing the middle of his stomach caught his eye, placing a single finger on the pattern. "Whoa hey, if ya wanted me to take my shihirt off all ya hahad to do was ask nicelyyyy," his voice raised in pitch when Alastor pressed down ever so slightly. Fuck this wasn't good, his pattern was way more sensitive and he really didn't need Al of all people to figure that out.
"By now you should know that I don't ask nicely," he said, a completely sinister look in his eyes. He drug his finger up along the pink line, making Angel arch his back with a squeal, much to his delight. His finger made its way back down the same path, and Angel shook his head back and forth, squirming in the tentacles' hold.
"Nohohot thehehere," he pleaded. Alastor hummed in thought.
"You see, when you say that it really makes me want to focus all my efforts on this exact spot," he teased.
"Bihihite mehehe!" They both froze, Alastor's grin stretching across his entire face. Angel realized his mistake and even though he knew it was futile, he kicked his legs out for purchase so he could scoot away. Alastor moved to straddle his waist, leaning in closer as sharp teeth glistened. "A-Al Ihihi didn't mean it like that! Oh shit, you're not gonna eat me, are ya?" Nervousness gave way to fear as he had no chance to escape.
"Why, what an excellent idea Angel Dust! I am a cannibal after all." He lunged forth, head diving towards his stomach. Angel screamed in terror which soon gave way to hysterical screams of laughter as Alastor nibbled and nuzzled against his stomach.
"Fuhuhuhuck it tihihickles so damn muhuhuch!" he yelled, trying to curl in on himself, but Alastor's magic held firm. He rose his head back up from the fluff, sputtering before picking a few hairs from his mouth. Angel gasped for breath during the break he knew wouldn't last long.
Alastor wiped his tongue on his sleeve to rid his mouth of any excess fluff. "Suddenly I've lost my appetite!"
"Greheat, so can you lehehet me gohoho?" Angel asked, fearing the answer. Alastor tapped his chin in thought, studying his form before answering.
"I suppose I could, but there's one spot left I want to try," Alastor said, eyes falling on his exposed hollows. Angel followed his gaze, eyes going wide with realization as an excited sort of panic flooded his body. Giggles bubbled out of his mouth that was stretched in an anxious smile, gold tooth gleaming.
"No please, anywhere but there," Angel begged, his efforts to escape doubling but still yielding the same results. Alastor smirked as he rested his hands right below his second pair of arms. Just doing that made him jerk and let out a small squeal. Alastor tilted his head, a devious look on his face.
"Oh Angel, you don't really get a say in the matter," he said, and then he attacked. He was completely lost to his laughter as Alastor scratched and skittered in his underarms, switching rapidly between them all to keep him a jumpy hysterical mess. He drilled his thumbs into the fur and kneaded around the sensitive area. He had to hold back his own chuckles once Angel started hiccuping amongst his cries of laughter. He finally granted him mercy, snapping his fingers and releasing his hold on the other demon. He sat beside him as Angel's giggles trailed off, interrupted every once in a while by another hiccup. Alastor notes that he hadn't moved at all, arms still raised and laying on the bed.
Angel glared up at him. "Damn you, you fuckin' prick. You're a fucki- fucking monster," he said, having to restart the word when another embarrassing hiccup broke up his speech. Alastor just smirked, narrowing his eyes.
"A tickle monster," he felt the need to correct. Angel groaned, a bright blush growing on his face. He covered his face with his lower set of hands, hoping that Alastor would at least be nice enough not to comment on it. "I hope it goes without saying that none of what happened is to leave this room," he threatened in a nicer tone, though it was a threat none the less. Angel sat up, waving a hand at him.
"Yeah yeah, trust me I don't want anyone else to know." Angel perked up, head snapping to look at Alastor. "Hey what'd you do with my shirt?" Alastor pointed around a pile of clothes in the corner, the soft pink shirt laying on top. He walked over, slipping it over his head. He noticed him staring at him, a smug, knowing look on his face. Angel narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
Alastor glanced down at his nails nonchalantly. "Nothing, just noticed something rather peculiar." Angel flopped onto his bed, making him bounce with the mattress.
"Mind sharin' with the class?" he asked, even though he had a feeling he would regret it.
"I don't recall hearing you tell me to stop," he said with a sly smile. The curious grin on Angel's face immediately disappeared, cheeks heating up. He refused to meet his eyes as he struggled for a comeback.
"I- you- well- how could I, I was laughin' too hard!" he justified.
"You didn't seem to have any trouble saying other things," he beamed, holding up a hand when Angel grabbed a pillow and started beating him with it.
"Shut the hell up!"
"You like it!"
"SHUT UP!"
Alastor's static filled chuckles rang through the air. He even had the audacity to pinch his cheek before standing. "Glad to see you're feeling better. Laughter is the best medicine after all," he said.
Angel crossed his lower pair of arms, trying to hide his smile behind his hand. "Heh, I guess so."
Alastor was at the door, hand on the knob before he looked over his shoulder at Angel Dust. "Don't be shy to come find me if you ever need any more cheering up," he teased with a wink. Angel's face was practically on fire, and for once he didn't have a witty comeback. Alastor gave an amused huff before closing the door, leaving Angel alone to think about all that just happened.
#alastor#angel dust#husk#husker#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fic#hazbin hotel tickle fic#ticklish!alastor#ticklish!angel#ticklish!angel dust
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hey, i really love your Hopper fics and your writing ❤️ and if the hc requests are still open, could you write one about Hopper and Age Gap? that would be awesome, thank youuu 💕
Hello, lovely!! I’m so sorry this has taken so long, I hope you enjoy! And thank you so, so much!! ❤️
S o ... this kind of turned into almost a drabble, maybe even a fic, because this is a long one, pals. Maybe also a touch angsty?
—
It was the one thing Hop didn’t want to do after his divorce: date a younger woman.
It was cliché, it was classic, it was stereotypical, it was just... Everyone would frown at it, he thought anyway.
After moving back to Hawkins, he dated women close to his age, other divorcées who were looking for a one time thing, nothing serious. And he liked it perfectly fine that way. It was ideal, it worked, and it meant he couldn’t hurt anyone, and no one could hurt him.
And then he came to remember just how small Hawkins is, and how word gets around.
Divorcées would come looking for him, having heard from their friends that it would be a one time thing, but a damn good one time thing, and those looking for something more turned him down when he approached. It was a system that worked for everyone until Hopper started to realise the playing field was getting smaller and smaller.
So he branched, taking women who wanted more on a couple of dates, sleeping with them and then just letting it fade out. He knew he was an ass for doing it, he knew he was but... they deserved more and he just wanted to feel good for a short time.
And then he met you.
As Chief of Police, Hopper likes to know everyone, or at least be familiar with faces, so when he sees you, as an unfamiliar face, you catch his attention... and you’re beautiful, but he only let’s that passing thought stay for a couple of seconds because you’re obviously younger than him, maybe by about 15, 20 years, maybe more, you could possibly actually look a little older than your age.
He finds out from Flo a few days later, because she seems to always know everything, that she found out through a friend of a friend’s niece that you’re new in town and you’d just got a job at the diner.
On a usual day, Hopper gets up half an hour before work, showers sometimes, eats sometimes, changes, then heads to work. There he’ll grab something to eat if something’s there, have coffee, then work. He’ll either work through his lunch break and Flo will bring him something, or he’ll head out to the diner or nearest fast food restaurant with one of his colleagues. After getting the information from Flo, he decides to get lunch out. Powell comes with him as they both have to discuss a case, and Hop will suggest the diner and they’ll go there.
Selecting a booth, he’ll sit so he can see the counter, because there you are. You’re in the diner uniform, smiling and laughing with one of your colleagues, and he’ll wish that you’ll come over, and also hope you don’t.
You do, and you give them both a wide smile... and he won’t say hello. He’ll just say his order. You’ll still be smiling, nodding, confirming his order and Powell’s, and your smile will only widen further as you tell them it’ll be out soon. Then you’ll walk away and he’ll want to kick himself.
Could’ve at least asked her how her day is going, you idiot.
He won’t really know why he’s feeling so weird about talking to you. Yes, he thinks you’re attractive, but... Ooh, he absolutely doesn’t want to go there because, cliché. And you’ll definitely not be interested in an older guy like him.
When you bring their order he’ll just mumble his thanks and focus on Powell while they eat and talk... but his gaze will slide over to wherever you are every now and then, watching you talk to other customers, talk with your colleagues, stand at the counter, bite at your lower lip, check your watch when you think no one’s looking.
He’ll pay you afterwards as Powell goes outside to bring the Blazer round, and when you thank him, he’ll leave a tip and mumble, ‘Have a nice day.’
The smile you give him will make his jaw clench slightly, especially when you say, ‘Thanks, you, too.’
... But he’ll start going there regularly for lunch, every second day nearly. You’ll almost always be there, and he’ll sit in the same booth which he works out must be your area because you’ll always come over and serve. He’ll always bring someone with him, too, almost as a buffer, and you’re always smiling.
You’re just smiling and being polite because it’s your job, he tells himself, and he always tips more than he usually would, which he then tells himself is why you beam when you see him. It’s just because he’s a good tipping customer.
Then, one day, two weeks or so later, he’ll go with Powell, and just as they’ve both finished and Powell goes to get the Blazer and Hop finds himself paying again, silence falling as he gets his wallet out and you wait patiently, he’ll be saying it before he can stop himself.
‘So, uh, you havin’ a good day?’
If you’re surprised that he’s finally saying more than ‘yes’, ‘the usual’, ‘thanks’, ‘bye’, you won’t show it, just nod and smile.
‘Yeah, thank you, I am. How about you?’
‘Well, you know. Work’s busy.’ Is that even a proper answer?
‘I bet. Will you be out tonight, though?’
He’ll look at you, blanking. ‘Huh?’
‘At the fair?’
Ah, shit, he’d forgotten about that. It’s his night off and he’s going to... not do much actually, crack a few beers open, watch whatever is on TV, fall asleep on the couch, the usual.
‘Uh... I don’t think so.’
‘That’s too bad. I hope you change your mind.’ Smiling, you’ll thank him for coming in and then walk away... and he’ll be staring at you, unmoving.
Did you just... No... No, you couldn’t have... No. No.
He’ll dismiss it. You absolutely weren’t flirting or coming on to him in any form or way, you were just being polite.
But when he heads home after his shift, your words return to him, lingering. He dissects them, the way you said it, the way you’d smiled and... had you lingered slightly before saying goodbye?
Why am I thinkin’ like a fuckin’ teenager.
Back at his trailer, he’ll open a beer, sit on the couch, and... think about the fair. And you.
...
...
...
An hour there wouldn’t hurt.
He’s changed and out the door in less than ten minutes.
The fair is in full-swing when he arrives, and the moment he’s out of his Blazer, hands in his pockets and walking towards it, he feels like an idiot. What the hell is he doing here?
Luckily, he’ll run into some of the guys from work, though, here with their kids and he’ll talk to them for a while, get a beer. Then he’ll see Joyce and her two boys with some of the other kids they hang out with, and he’ll walk around with them, trying to help Joyce keep them in order. When they’re all demanding a hot dog and a drink, they’ll all manage to find a free table and sit at it while Hop offers to pay (why am I always paying for things) and he’ll head over to the already large queue.
Hands in his pockets, he’ll be lost in his thoughts, muttering under his breath every now and then at how slow the queue is moving, and then he’ll hear it.
‘Chief?’
He knows that voice. Turning, he’ll find you behind him, arms folded, smile wide.
‘Oh, uh, hey.’
‘You came.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I did.’
‘Are you having a good time?’
‘Uh, yeah. Kinda. I’m kinda babysittin’, though, so.’
‘Oh, right. Who are you here with?’
‘Them, over there.’
He’ll point and you’ll turn to find a brown-haired woman trying to keep a group of boys in order as they argue over... Well, you can’t really understand much of what they’re saying but it sounds cool.
‘That seems like a lot of fun.’
He’ll smile at how genuinely you say it, shrugging. ‘Yeah, I guess. Who are you here with?’
‘Some friends. Well, people from work, but I think we’re friends now.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Yeah, I think so.’
Then, there’ll be a silence that he’s dreaded since the moment he heard your voice. So he’ll just say the first thing that comes to mind.
‘Can I buy whatever it is you’re gettin’?’
You’ll blink, then shake your head. ‘Oh, no, don’t worry about it, it’s fine, thank you, though.’
You idiot, of course she’s fine.
‘Yeah, sure, don’t worry about it—’
‘You can buy me a drink another time, though?’
He’ll stare at you, before realising he needs to actually answer. ‘Oh, uh... Yeah, sure.’
You’ll beam, then nod, releasing a small breath. ‘Good. My number is... Oh, shit, do you have any paper and pen?’
He’ll be patting his pockets like his life depends on it. ‘Uh, shit, no, I—’
‘Hang on, here we go...’ You’ll both be at the front of the queue now, and you’ll ask for a napkin and a pen from the server, and you’ll scrawl your number down before handing it to him.
‘Call me,’ you say with a soft laugh, and he’ll carefully tuck it into his pocket before saying he absolutely will, ordering what he needs in almost a daze, and then bidding you goodbye as he returns to Joyce and the boys.
The next day, he’ll call you and ask you out to dinner, because that seems classier to him, and you’ll arrange it for the day after that.
He’ll be nervous. Very, very nervous.
You’re not young but you’re younger, and he so didn’t want to fall into a cliché. He’ll have to pep-talk himself manically throughout the day.
No, he’s not going to cancel because he wants to do it, yes, you’re younger, but that’s not a bad thing, you had asked him to ask you out, and all it was was one date. One date. It didn’t even have to go beyond that. It was just going to be dinner with someone and getting to know them... which is a date.
Flo will catch wind of it, like she always seems to do.
‘You’re going on a date with Janice’s friend’s niece’s friend?’
‘Don’t start, Flo—’
‘Don’t mess it up, Hop, she’s nice.’
Great, more pressure.
The evening will come and he’ll get there early, sick of pacing in his living room. You’ll arrive a few minutes before the agreed time, and he’ll pause at the sight of you.
Beautiful. God damn beautiful. You always are when he sees you, but...
He’ll rise from his chair and kiss you on the cheek because that’s what’s expected on a date, right, and then the night will begin.
... And from that night on, well... Things and feelings develop and progress very quickly.
He’ll love it, he’ll love spending time with you, talking with you, going out with you, you’re incredible to him.
It’s just... sometimes thoughts will creep into his mind when you are out in public. Was that person staring? What are they thinking? In fact, what do his colleagues think? Flo’s happy, but he thinks at this point she’d be happy with anyone he got close with.
When you are out, either at a bar or at dinner or one of the many fairs Hawkins puts on, his arm will drop from where it was around your shoulders, or his hand will release yours and slip into his pocket. He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. You don’t really think much of it at first, thinking he just isn’t a huge fan of PDA, even though you don’t think hand holding is in-your-face, but, hey, if that’s his preference.
But then you start to notice it a lot more in different ways. You’ll eat in more than out, and if you are out he seems tense, almost rushing through the meal. He won’t touch you in public, maybe hold your hand a little, but if you wrap your arms around him and kiss him he’ll just smile slightly and return it quickly.
It’s starting to become so obvious to you because when you’re at his trailer or your place, he can’t keep his hands off of you. You’ll be on his lap, curled up beside him, cuddling him, he’ll have his hands on you, he’ll want to kiss you every few minutes, he’ll caress you, having sex with him is incredible and frequent.
So, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, you do a few tests before you say anything. You’ll be out shopping, and you’ll slip your hand into his. He’ll let it go a few moments later and pick something up which you think, fine, we’re browsing, he needs his hands.
Walking down the street you’ll slide your arm around his waist, and a few moments later, he’ll suggest you both cross the street, twisting his body to check if any vehicles are coming and it’ll just so happen that your arm will fall from him.
Stopping for a drink, you’ll reach over and place your hand on his and he’ll squeeze it lightly before sitting back, his hands falling into his lap.
And then you’ll go for your final test. Walking down a street, you’ll turn to him and kiss him, the type of firm, lingering kiss that usually, in private, would have him gripping at you and groaning.
Now, though... he pulls his head back after a second and smiles slightly before asking where you want to go to next.
Home, you’ll say. Alone.
He’ll frown, not quite understanding, but as you walk away he won’t call after you because he doesn’t want people staring any more than he already is telling himself they are.
He’ll go straight home and call you, but you won’t answer. So he’ll wait a little while and call again. No answer.
Then he’ll just grab his keys and head over.
When you answer the door and let him in because you know he won’t go anywhere, with your eyes shining and jaw tight, his heart will sink.
‘Baby, what’s wrong?’
‘What’s wrong’? you’ll scoff, arms folded, staring at him in your hallway. ‘I’m gonna ask you something and you’re gonna tell me the truth.’
‘Of course.’
‘Are you embarrassed to be with me?’
He’ll stare at you.
‘... What?’
‘Are you embarrassed to be with me?’
‘Embarrassed? What, no, baby, of course not—’
‘Then why won’t you let me touch you in public? Why won’t you touch me?’
As you list off everything he does, his heart will sink further.
Shit.
‘No, baby, I... I just... I’m a little self-conscious ‘cause you’re younger than me, by quite a bit, and I worry about what people think about me, and... if anything, sweetheart, I thought... I sometimes think... you’d be embarrassed to be with me.’
You’ll let out a long, incredulous breath as you look at him, shaking your head. ‘Hopper... No one cares. I don’t care. We’re happy together, right?’
He’ll nod.
‘Then that’s all that matters.’ Dropping your arms, you’ll take his hands, a small smile pulling at your lips. ‘Of course I’m not embarrassed to be with you, Hop. I think you’re so fucking sexy and so funny and kind and smart and you’re just everything that I want.’
He’ll pull you closer as his smile matches yours. ‘You’re everything that I want, too, baby. I... I’m sorry, I was being an ass.’
‘Yeah, you were,’ you’ll agree as you arch an eyebrow and he snorts, your arms wrapping around his waist. ‘... but it’s okay, I forgive you.’
‘Good. Thank you.’
After that, he’ll be more relaxed with you in public. It’ll take a little while for all his insecurities to go away, but he’ll get there, and soon he’s holding your hand, kissing you, wrapping an arm around you, even making out with you on nights out at the bar.
And very soon, Jim Hopper will be very proud to show the world that you’re his, and he is yours.
—
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Overwhelmed
Naeleon (Makoto Naegi/Leon Kuwata)
(minor)emotional hurt/comfort fic. cw: yelling, demeaning of self, emotional outbursts. ~2k words
tldr; Leon is very overwhelmed, luckily he has Makoto there to help him
Based on this submission from @naeleon-headcanon-blog
Books? Check. Notebooks? Check. Blankets and a change of clothes? Check and check. Rucksack full of snacks he had stolen from the kitchen? Check!
Everything for operation date night was ready.
Carefully placing everything into his emptied school bag, Makoto slipped it onto his back and stuffed his room key into his pocket. A glance at the clock reassured him that it was only 9:20, there was still half an hour before he had to be heading out. But he had already finished his homework for the night, and there wasn't enough time to get started on a new project… it'd be fine to show up early, he reasoned.
He settled on the thought, locking his door behind him. With a smile on his face he turned to head down the hall, and almost ran straight into Yasuhiro. The clairvoyant was immediately on edge, jumping back from their barely-avoided collision and almost dropping his phone. They stared at each other for a moment, a look of understanding passing between them before the mystic smiled at him. "You gonna tell Taka I'm sneaking out?"
"I won't tell if you don't, Hiro."
The taller laughed, patting his shoulder and wishing him the best before running past him down the stairs. He could faintly hear him meeting up with some upperclassmen in the stairwell before their voices faded away.
Shaking his head, Makoto adjusted his bag and headed down the hall. It was always a little weird walking through the empty halls at night, but he could sometimes hear an exceptionally loud laugh from Mondo's room, or the sound of an anime opening from Hifumi's, and the sliver of light from beneath doors was enough of a reminder that everyone was there. He slowed down as he passed Ishimaru's room, trying to make his footsteps as quiet as possible. He really didn't want to be late for movie night because Taka caught him near curfew again.
But there was no light coming from behind the door, meaning he had either gone to bed early or was somewhere else, and it was enough of a confidence boost to let Makoto hurry the rest of the way to Leon's room. With midterms coming up they hadn't had much time to hang out lately, and he was eager to finally relax together. As he got closer to the door though, he was concerned with what he heard.
"-can't possibly be that fuckin' difficult! Piece of shit!"
There was no doubt it was Leon yelling, and he hesitated by the door. He could hear the distinct thud, thud, thud of something hitting the wall, and could picture the Ultimate throwing a tennis ball against the wall. One of the first years, Ryoma, had given him one after he put a hole in the wall from throwing his baseball at it. Using a softer ball was definitely an improvement, but there were still dents in the wall from the frequency and he could only imagine how it bothered other students.
Was… that why Hiro had left? They shared a wall, and he'd seen the clairvoyant take walks before when his neighbour was stressed, but for him to make plans for the night and leave? How long had Leon been at it?
The cry of "Motherfuc-" broke off into silence as Makoto knocked on the door. The banging against the wall stopped, and it was growing eerily quiet. He waited a few seconds, but when there was no answer he knocked again.
"Leon…?" No answer. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he grabbed the handle. "Hey, I'm coming in, okay?"
The door swung open easily, it was hardly ever locked. Inside, he could see a textbook open on the desk, crumpled balls of paper overflowing from the waste bin next to it. Leon was standing by the chair, tennis ball in hand as he stared down at the book. As he walked in, Makoto couldn't help but notice there was a new dent in the wall by the bed. He set his book bag on the bed slowly, not wanting to startle Leon.
The ball in his hand bulged as he squeezed it, knuckles turning white as his other hand gripped the chair. He hadn't looked up once since he'd walked in the room, but his chest rose and fell quickly, as if struggling to get enough air. "Makoto… 's not a good time…" he mumbled, head turning slightly towards the lucky student. "Gonna need to, uh… cancel tonight..."
Regardless of his words, Makoto sat on the bed, pulling his legs up beneath him. They'd been in this situation before, each time Leon quietly asking him to leave. But he knew better than that, knew that the baseball star would only spiral further if left to his own devices. Instead, he just asked "What happened?"
He could see Leon freeze up, see the tension that coursed through him as his hands twitched, gripping the chair beside him as if it was a lifeline. The tennis ball dropped to the desk, bouncing a little against others in a bowl. "...Homework. Was tryin' to get it done before you came over, but I-" he broke off, running a hand through his hair.
Frustration was worming it's way into his voice. "Was tryin' to do these math problems but every time I start I fuck it up!" His voice was growing louder, frustration turning into anger as he grabbed a ball from the bowl and tossed it between his hands. "It shouldn't be this fuckin' difficult, right?! I mean, what the hell! Chi can do this shit in his sleep, and I can't even do one problem without fucking it up!"
Makoto's eyes darted to the ball, quickly returning to his face to show he was paying attention. The redhead's face was twisted in a sneer, and his eyes were focusing on nothing in specific, looking through whatever was in his line of sight. "Doesn't Chihiro usually help you with math?" he asked quietly, watching his classmate pace from one end of the room to another.
"Yeah, usually. He had some dumbass council thing tonight, asked if I could do it myself. Told him yeah, what the hell else would I tell 'im?!" Leon groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair again as he turned on his heel and paced back the way he just came. "Dude takes time out of his day to help me out all the time, can't just tell him no! Figured we'd done enough that I could manage one night on my own. It's just one night! Just three fuckin' problems! I shouldn't have this much fuckin' trouble-"
"Leon, wait, that's-!"
"-With an easy ass REMEDIAL CLASS!!" The baseball whizzed through the air regardless of Makoto's warning, hitting the lamp on his nightstand dead center and sending it crashing to the floor. Both boys stopped to look at it, the light flickering from behind the broken lampshade. "SHIT!!" Leon smacked his head, covering his eyes as he tried to calm himself down. "Can't believe I just did something so fucking stupid!!"
"Don't beat yourself up, you didn't-" Makoto started to say, but stopped himself as he saw Leon stop pacing and pull at his hair, eyes squeezed shut.
"Stupid! Stupid stupid stupid!!"
"Leo-"
"STUPIDSTUPIDSTUPIDSTUPIDSTUPIDSTUPID!!!"
A gentle hand resting on Leon's arm made his eyes snap open, watery grey eyes searching Makoto's face desperately. He led the baseball player to the bed slowly, sitting him down and grabbing a thermos from his bag to offer him a drink. "Here, take a sip" he spoke softly, his hand never leaving his arm as he squeezed it reassuringly.
Leon took a long sip, taking a shuddering breath like he had forgotten how to breathe. He was practically hyperventilating, tears streaking their way down his face and Makoto sat beside him, making Leon look at him. "Hey, it's okay, I'm right here. Can you count with me? 10… 9… 8…" Quietly, Leon's voice joined his own, continuing with him down to one.
Squeezing his arm, Makoto took the thermos from his shaking hands, setting it on the nightstand. "There we go… Can you tell me what day it is?"
"...Wednesday."
"Where are we?"
"...Hope's Peak."
"What's your talent?"
"....Fuckin' baseball."
"Who am I?"
Leon's breathing had started to calm down, blinking as he looked slowly up at his companion. "Koto… my boyfriend…"
Makoto gave him a gentle smile, nodding his head and taking shaking hands into his own. His fingers ran over the decorative rings his boyfriend was still wearing, and he felt Leon grip his hands like he'd disappear. "Yep, I'm right here for you. Always."
It wasn't the first time Leon had had an overload in front of him, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but he knew the boy was afraid of scaring him off. The first time he'd thrown something in front of him, Leon had avoided him for a week, paranoid that he wouldn't want to be around him anymore. Makoto would be lying if he said it wasn't concerning, but he was determined to understand, setting aside time to sit down privately with Leon and talk to him about it.
He was easily overwhelmed if he felt he wasn't good enough at something, and his relying on baseball to get him through school had meant he never really learnt how to study. Now that he was in Hope's Peak, surrounded by people who were all experts in their field, he was finding it harder and harder not to get angry at himself when he couldn't do something. Usually he could push the feeling inside, but it would keep building and building until he couldn't keep pushing it down, and if something particularly difficult happened, or he heard too many of what he labelled as "bad sounds", or he was having an off day, his brain would go into an overload and he'd shut down, unable to control his anger at himself.
This was something that Makoto was sort of familiar with, as too much stimuli or conflicting sounds could send him into a sensory overload, and he could relate on some level. He didn't get angry, like Leon did, but he'd had his fair share of crying sessions in his dorm after a particularly difficult day with stimuli. He'd made extra-sure that Leon knew what he experienced was valid, and reassured him that he wasn't scared. Since that day, he'd caught Leon on the verge of breaking a few times, and once in the middle of an episode. Each time he sat down and helped him work through it, reassuring him that he wasn't stupid or an idiot like he claimed.
"Why do you keep helping me, Koto?" Leon asked suddenly, his face buried in Makoto's hair as he held him close. His voice was barely above a whisper, cracking as he spoke. "Nothing makin' you deal with me when I'm like... this… hell, half the time I'm yelling at you to leave. Why bother?"
Makoto hugged him tightly, pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder. "Because you're worth it, Leon... I wish you could see that."
He felt him laugh, but there was no humour behind it. The loud student was tired, having worn himself out emotionally. He leaned back against the wall, pulling Makoto with him. There was a moment of silence as they situated themselves, neither one wanting to destroy the comfortable silence they found themselves in.
"...I love you, man."
Though his eyes were closed, he could practically hear the smile in Makoto's voice. "Love you too, Leon."
#thanks for letting me use this prompt man#totally didnt use this as a vent piece after a frustrating day /lh#sorry if the formatting is atrocious im not used to writing directly on tumblr#also not mentioned but uhh implied are my personal headcanons of autistic Makoto and ADHD Leon so yeah#based this off my own meltdowns/overloads a bit#nagi writes#crossposting this to my writing blog later-
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WIP ROUNDUP!!
i was tagged by @trashpocket (hey bae ;)) and since im lonely here on tumblr and have no one but the void to yell at, i won’t be tagging anyone :((
okay let’s start off with my published WIPS lol i have quite a collection and boy do i regret posting most of these, but anyway that’s here’s my hot girl shit
"i’ll figure it out with a little more time” - (if u knew me at my thai BL phase no u didn’t :)) anyways this was a supposed to be a pretty short fic that features an oblivious Sarawat not knowing how to navigate his feelings towards Tine and Tine being an equally giant dumbass. their school is hosting a school dance and Sarawat’s emotionally constipated ass doesn’t know how to SPEAK and just ASK Tine to go w/ him. i swear i might be the author of this story but i also get mad at these fuckers
“we’re boyfriends?” - ah yes another Thai BL fic, i will admit. i have NO idea where to take this story lmao. i still wanna finish it tho cuz i hate disappointing ppl. the fic starts with Ae and Pond making a dumb bet so Pond will stop jerking off in their shared room and promises that he won’t do that as long Ae dates someone random and based off of Pond’s choosing. sweet bby Pete wanders into their campus accidentally and gets picked. Ae does the deed and tells Pete they’re dating. Ae thinks that Pete and Pond are scheming to make his life a living hell but lo and behold Pete has actually fallen in love with him (heheheh)
“i wanna ruin our friendship” - hello lgbtq+ community :). we all know where this fuckin title is from don’t be sneaky. so here’s my KilluGon college fic. I initially wrote this like two years ago and uploaded it on wattpad lmaooo then i edited it and posted on ao3 and once again i have no idea where to take this (ive forgotten what my original idea for this was lol) so basically Killua and Gon are really close friends and Gon is sortof a player in this AU idk why khdkadha but anywayz all of Gon’s exes have left him bc they’re jealous of Killua but Gon would never pick his current S/O over him so HAAA. it all goes to shit tho when Retz decides to trick Gon to taking her back for the school dance and idk what path to go for T_T
AIGHT now for my UNPUBLISHED WIPS buckle up yall this is a LOT. all the titles are WIPS so that’s why theyre iffy lol
“pussy talented”- (don’t mind the title lmao i just wanted a cat pun in there somewhere) basically, Bokuto is a firefighter and Akaashi an editor. They work near each other and Bokuto often visits Kuroo, who works with Akaashi. Ofc Akaashi falls in love at first sight but then he overhears that he has a "Kenma" waiting for him at home. Akaashi assumes that he's probably Bo's boyfriend and then leaves him alone, making Bo confused as hell. Little that he knows that Kenma is actually a grumpy calico cat.
“killugon flower shop AU” - Wing owns a flower shop and Killua helps out with Zushi along with Alluka out of boredom and one day Alluka asks Killua to help out with her client then he meets Gon and is immediately smitten until Gon says that he's looking for something that he can give to a girlfriend (it was actually Ging's request lol), lots of misunderstanding, Killua being too shy to ask the handsome stranger out and Alluka and Zushi being done with his shit
“rice isn’t the only thing getting crushed here” - Osamu falls in love with one of his most loyal costumers—Akaashi and he thinks he might just have a shot at it until one day while Akaashi is ordering a bunch of riceballs, Bokuto Koutaro of Japan's National Volleyball team enters the restaurant and sweeps Akaashi of his feet, unexpected angst and a generous helping of unrequited pining :)) dw this fic can go two ways: Bokuto is just Akaashi's best friend who he hasn't seen in months or b. Bokuto is actually Akaashi's fiance maybe i’ll write both endings heehee
“killua is sad and gets lovebombed” - while staying in Whale Island, Killua thinks he that he doesn't deserve Gon and tries to leave him while he's asleep but his plan is stopped when Gon wakes up and they both end up revealing their true feelings for each other
“excuse to write charles getting fucked by two delicious men” - Erik and Charles have been in a relationship for years now and basically fell out of love so when Erik gets promoted and has to move, Charles agrees and so they break up. Charles turns to Logan (who harbors a giant crush on Charles) for companionship and sleep together once. Logan says it was an accident but Charles wants more and they establish a FWB situation of sorts since Charles isn't ready yet. But then Charles gets into an accident and can't remember what happened the past year and a half so he still thinks he's with Erik. Meanwhile, Erik is living a luxurious yet empty life and when he gets the call from Raven about Charles' situation, he immediately goes back running.
“killua in whale island” - KilluGon are like 20-ish and Killua visits Whale Island and Ging just happens to be there as well. Killua thinks about how even though Gon and Ging are near identical, Gon just looks so much more handsome. (probs just a oneshot)
“another horny cherik fic” - Charles is a demon who was accidentally summoned when Raven, Hank and Ororo uses Erik's blood to perform a demon summoning ritual (as a joke) they didn't know it would actually work so now Charles is stuck with Erik because the human absolutely refuses to sell his soul
“IwaOi overboard AU” - Oikawa is a rich pretty boy and Iwa a college dropout who works at his uncle's repair shop with his younger brother Tobio and cousin Kyoutani ( both 5 yrs old). One day he gets called over to fix one of Oikawa's cars and after a failed and disastrous encounter with a drunk Oikawa, Iwa leaves the mansion fuming. Later in the day, it's discovered that Oikawa got in a car crash that took away his memories and since Oikawa apparently lives alone, he has no one to get him. not until Iwa comes ofc and with a malicious and vengeful intent, he tells Oikawa that they're dating and live together in his crappy apartment
“dancer Akaashi” - Akaashi is a dancer, Osamu is a bartender at the bar he works at and has also been in love with Akaashi for the past two years. He doesn't confess since he knows Akaashi doesn't like romance but then enters a bright eyed cheery Bokuto who sweeps the unreachable Midnight Moon off of his feet, bokuaka but im leaning towards bokuosaaka since akaashi deserves two boyfriends
“watch me be poetically horny for Akaashi Keiji” - Akaashi is a vampire and Osamu, a skilled artist. Akaashi posing nude and delighted at how beautifully Osamu portrays him. Osamu says otherwise.
Cherik College AU - drift by great gable.... late teens cherik... Erik being a misanthropic horny bastard and Charles a snarky piece of shit.... they get paired up for 7 minutes in heaven... turns out Charles has been ogling him for a while now.. hmmmm,,,.,. ( i wrote this when i was drunk and my og draft is too long so take this instead lolz)
“ BokuAka (NSFW) ” - Bokuto pushing off a guy who tried to hit on Akaashi while they're at a club. Akaashi gets so turned on he immediately drags Bokuto to the bathroom where he gets his facefucked in one of the bathroom stalls or Akaashi getting his face fucked in a dirty alley at the back of a bar after Bokuto gets into a fistfight.
“KuroKen (NSFW) ” -Kenma does top during sex but but he's just really lazy to put in the effort
aight that’s it oh damn i just now realize how much i have T-T bruhhhhhhh and this isn’t even all of them damnnn
#wips#fanfic#fanfic wips#cherik#charles xavier#erik lensherr#xmen#haikyuu!!#hq!!#bokuaka#kuroken#osaaka#bokuosaaka#bokuto koutaro#akaashi keiji#miya osamu#hxh#hunter x hunter#killugon#killua zoldyck#gon freecs#thai bl#2gether the series#sarawat#tine#sarawatine#love by chance#aepete#iwaoi#Iwaizumi Hajime
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The Ghost (Part 2)
Pairing :Wrench x Reader
AO3 Link
Summary:
“So. You a big fan of hackers?”
“I guess you can say that. ” You may not be able to make a coherent string of codes but you know that vague code speak means: He’s in the group.
Note:
Here's the look reader has in this chapter!
(The helmet and biker suit is the main canonical look reader has cuz it's important to the fic, underneath you can insert your own look)
Chapter 2: Fresh Air and Graffiti
You woke up to the smell of your grandmother’s cooking, checking your phone revealed it was 8 in the damn morning. God you weren’t ready for the strong smells so early in the morning. Looks like Ripley wasn’t either considering she was already away and giving you her big ole puppy eyes that just scream “Walk time? Walk time!”.
Such a sweetie.
“Let’s get you some breakfast first before we can think of any w-a-l-k-i-e-s, alrighty?” Oh gosh, she gave you a little nod and a gentle ruff, you’re gonna get killed by the cuteness of a pup. Not by any of those burly men with guns that you’re so used to on the job, and obviously, you welcome this kind of death with open arms.
Getting up, you cleaned yourself up from the rest of your grogginess and went to the kitchen to fill up Ripley’s food bowl but not before taking a puff of your daily asthma medicine.
Gah… The smell of dried fish was getting more and more prominent now. The dried fish your grandma makes for the conge tastes so good but god it smells like the ocean flooded the house and dried up.
“Mom! Did you really have to make that fish so early in the morning?” Looks like your aunt was up and at ‘em too now. Strong smells always did make her grumpier.
“ It takes so long to fully seep and cook this fish so I should just cook it now! ” Your aunt looked as if she was going to pop a blood vessel already.
“Mom. Now the whole house smells like fish. You could have made it tomorrow or even later today!” You just sighed as your aunt and grandma argued, you really didn’t want a headache so early in the morning…
Ripley was done eating her breakfast so it was time to go for some walkies. Maybe Ripley will make some friends in this neighborhood? You brought out some body spray for yourself to put on once you’re out of the house, your emergency inhaler, then finally you put the pit-bull on her leash. Hopefully a walk around will ease your headache a bit.
So far so good.
It was sunny and surprisingly nice out, your little pup was letting out some energy and you got some fresh air. You finally arrived at a small dog park, certainly not the park Clara told you about. That hideout is about 20 more minutes away from where you’re currently at.
You sat at one of the benches to give your feet some rest, your little pit-bull laid down next to you on the bench, her head on your lap and wanting you to pet her as you two relaxed. You smiled before slowly starting to go into a daze, your eyelids drooped a bit from the nice temperature and your little friend snored away on your lap before your mind finally started to dream away as you stared into space.
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Run.
You needed to run.
You have to get out of here.
Opaque silhouettes slithered after you, their limbs contorting as they ran on all fours, letting out whaling cries as if trying to coax you into stopping. Its grotesque body leaving mucus in its wake.
But it didn’t work.
It only made you run faster.
Faster and faster until--
You choked.
The air was knocked out of you as one of the silhouette’s slimy, long arms grabbed one of your legs causing you to fall forward. You tried to crawl away, your nails scratching the concrete below to no avail. You looked behind you to see the mass of disgusting limbs catching up to you, still holding onto your captive leg.
As you continue to try to get away from the creature, you see another silhouette step in front of you and kneel down, and outstretched as if saying “Here. Let me help you up”. This one was different from the ones trying to chase you, they weren’t contorted or slimy nor did they have any extra limbs on their body.
You were so close to reaching for that gentle hand when--
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“Excuse me?” You woke up from your daydream by that new voice trying to get your attention. Looking up, you see a man (probably just a couple years older than you) wearing dark lensed glasses and had a light moustache and a soul patch. You also noted the shirt he wore.
Dedsec.
You wanted to snort. The Chicago branch would instantly kick that person out for wearing something so blatant. They’d hate seeing their name with a face.
“Hey, uh, sorry for intruding, I just wanted to pet your dog. Don’t really see many Pitbulls in this neighborhood.” You raised an eyebrow, most people would be terrified of Ripley and cross the street from you two (Granted, she is a big dog with large scars and cropped ears, you can’t fully blame them for being intimidated.) But you gave the man a little nod, he seemed nice enough.
“Sure, she’d love the attention.” The man immediately went to work, giving Ripley little scratches behind her ears, cooing as she gave him some kisses.
“What’s her name?”
“Ripley.”
“As in Ellen Louise Ripley ?”
“Yep. They’re both super tough, so, I just named her accordingly.” You mumbled, god it’s been so long since you had social interaction with a new human. The man just chuckled.
“I can tell, she definitely looks like she been through some stuff.”
You let out a little hum, “She was rescued from one of those dog fighting rings.” He nodded.
“Poor girl. Looks like she’s in better hands now though.” You chuckled as you scratched behind Ripley’s cropped ears, your eyes wandered back to the man’s Dedsec shirt. Honestly you can’t tell if he’s just a big fan or actually part of the group.
“So. You a big fan of hackers?”
“I guess you can say that. You into what Dedsec has to say?” You may not be able to make a coherent string of codes but you know that vague code speak means: He’s in the group.
“They have some good points. Highlighting vulnerabilities and weaknesses in the CTOS systems, showcasing how Blume truly acts. It’s like embarrassing the prom king on stage, I’m all for that.” The man raised his eyebrows and chuckled.
“You seem to have your share of Dedsec knowledge.”
“I’m from Chicago, they’re a pretty big deal there too. Dunno about here.”
“That explains it. Heard they released some pretty big blackmail over there.” You gave the man a nonchalant hum. Dedsec’s blackmail, huh? Aiden did most of the work though…
“I heard that too.”
Checking the time it was already almost 12 pm, that fuckin online college got you on a damn leash. Plus, you were getting pretty hungry, you did skip out on breakfast in favor of feeding Ripley.
“Well, I need to be on my way now. Hope you have a nice day.”
“Oh, you too. I’m Marcus by the way. I have a feeling I might see you again.” Well that sounds only mildly ominous, but, certainly not the worst you’ve heard. The taller man reached out his hand for a handshake, to which you reluctantly shook and gave Marcus your name.
“It was nice meeting you, Marcus.”
You nudged Ripley a bit to let her know you two were heading home now only for her to whine a bit but obliging. Yeah, you don’t wanna smell like fish again but… You really needed to at least finish the week’s assignments. You gave Marcus a final goodbye wave as you walked home with your dog by your side.
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You flopped onto your bed in defeat.
Why the fuck did this online school have to give you so much work every week? Well, you managed to do a few weeks worth of work and should be free earlier for Dedsec work.
Speaking of, it’s almost time to meet your new “coworkers”. It's time to suit up.
Donning your binder, biker’s helmet and suit, you made sure to test out the helmet’s voice modulator and check for any kinks. Afterwards, it was time for some real clothes! The skin tight biker suit feels pretty breezy despite you not being actually naked. At least the binder makes you look like a super buff guy, not to mention the boots give you some extra height. You really need those 3 extra inches…
Let’s see…
Pastel week? Or maybe something vintage? Or perhaps some fall colors would be nice! Sweaters always feel nice. But, it has been a while since you’ve done a punk week…
Well! It’s been decided!
Finally, you were ready for work. Giving Ripley a final forehead kiss and head pat, you headed for your destination.
Weird that a notorious hacker group put one of their hideouts in a nerdy tabletop shop. Then again, it doesn’t raise a lot of suspicion on the outside. Looking around, you see a bunch of people rolling their 20 sided dice on the tables. You always did want to play Dungeons and Dragons, never had the time to read up on it though. You walked towards the back, ignoring any wandering eyes. But no one really spoke up against you being there, they looked too scared to even try if they actually wanted to.
Aha. There was the entrance. You pushed in the pass-code Clara gave you and viola! You’re in. You took in the appearance of the entrance down the hackerspace. The graffiti is quite a look. Most of the Dedsec graffiti back home were mostly on CTOS ads or other signposts, this is a stark contrast from those dark hacker rooms in Chicago. But, you certainly didn’t mind it. Actually heading into the space itself revealed it looked more like a hacker’s man cave or hangout spot than a big name hacker group meet up room. Dedsec’s name was graffitied around every inch of the room, the table in the middle was filled with snacks, beers, and some computer equipment, and there were some really old rage comics memes near the 3d printer area.
Looks like you’re the first person here though. You sat at the sofa area, crossing your legs. God, the spaces back home needs a sofa like this instead of those rackety pull out chairs. Just as you were getting used to the appearance of… Everything. The sound of the sliding door and footsteps catches your ears. Guess it was introduction time.
Turning around and facing the first person you got to the space first, you were greeted with a familiar face.
“You guys should have seen Mr. Weak Chin’s face in perso--” The man locked eyes with you as you gave him a little wave.
Marcus. Your instincts had always been pretty on point.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” His hand was hidden behind him, probably reaching for a weapon to prepare himself from any surprise attacks. You only raise your hands to tell him you don’t mean any harm. Just as you were going to let him know why you’re here, the rest of the crew came down. Marcus wasn’t the only familiar face around here.
Your hidden eyes gazed into familiar digital Xs.
#wrench watch dogs#wrench#reader insert#Wrench x reader#marcus holloway#Watch Dogs#my art#My writing
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Leader or Not... ~ A Negan One-Shot
Summary:
You’d think that after 22 years of being around each other, Negan would know when not to mess with Leigh. You’d think that after 22 years of being best friends and married for the last 20, Negan would know when not to touch Leigh’s food. You’d think that after 22 years of watching Leigh threaten and even punch people for touching her food, that Negan would know better.
You’d think this...and you’d be just as wrong as Negan. Despite the fact that the only person allowed to “steal” Leigh’s food is Negan himself, even there comes a time, and a dish, that Leigh just won’t share. Not even with her own husband. You’d think Negan would know this...both before, but especially after, the end of the world and the dead started walking the Earth.
You’d think that Negan would know not to touch Leigh’s bacon.
Warning(s): Language. Angst, maybe? Threats - spoken, unspoken, well known, good, and bad. Rules - both Negan and Leigh’s. Violence - Seriously, Don’t fuck with Leigh. Negan being an ass ‘cause, well, he’s Negan. Leigh takes Lucille’s place in the comics but doesn’t die. Secret relationship - well, secret to every-fuckin’-one that’s not Negan or Leigh. Leigh’s a badass. Not beta’d, so...there’s that. I only have Grammarly used on this.
Author’s Note(s): Here’s that new Negan fic I mentioned! :)
Word Count: 2,631 words
Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) [romantic].
Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Sanctuary Workers. Simon. Carson, mentioned.
Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho@ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @sebs-padawan
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Story Time:
Third Person’s P.O.V. ~
You’d think that after 22 years of being around each other, Negan would know when not to mess with Leigh. You’d think that after 22 years of being best friends and married for the last 20, Negan would know when not to touch Leigh’s food. You’d think that after 22 years of watching Leigh threaten and even punch people for touching her food, that Negan would know better.
You’d think this...and you’d be just as wrong as Negan. Despite the fact that the only person allowed to “steal” Leigh’s food is Negan himself, even there comes a time, and a dish, that Leigh just won’t share. Not even with her own husband. You’d think Negan would know this...both before, but especially after, the end of the world and the dead started walking the Earth.
You’d think that Negan would know not to touch Leigh’s bacon.
***
Leigh’s P.O.V. ~
Sitting across the table from Negan as we eat breakfast in the cafeteria, I listen to my husband talk ‘bout the plans for the day’s scavenging runs with Simon as I glance down at my tray. Since we had a pretty good haul yesterday, the kitchen was able to whip up some scrambled eggs, french toast, and bacon. The bacon’s a treat for those of us that can afford it by havin’ ‘nough points.
Thankfully for me, though, between being Negan’s right hand, top savior, and secret wife, I can have whatever the fuck I want. My husband doesn’t care as long as I’m happy. Besides, I risk my ass to bring in the goods that we find out there. I say I’m his secret wife ‘cause...well...no one else knows he and I together.
At least not officially. Everyone knows to keep their hands to themselves. My husband doesn’t tolerate rape, and I don’t either. Plus, I may have once cut a man’s dick off and shoved it down his throat when he tried to get fresh with me. That was at the beginning when I was helping Negan get this place set up and there hasn’t been another incident like it since.
He and I decided that it would be in my best interest, and his too since he’s the Bossman, if there wasn’t a giant target on my back, painting me as his weakness. Not that I’m weak. I’m not. I’ve made that abundantly clear in the last few years since the dead started walking, and even before, way back when civilized society was still a thing.
Yet, neither of us could handle the thought of someone trying to use me to get my husband. He can’t stand the thought of someone trying to hurt me. I’m his wife, after all, the love of his life, the one woman who’s always been there, or at least been there for the last 22 years, ever since senior year of college.
And, I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting Negan in any way whatsoever. He’s my husband, the love of my life, my best friend, and my whole world. And hurting me, well, it hurts him, and I ain’t ‘bout to let that happen. So, we decided that we’d keep our relationship a secret. It hasn’t been easy, that’s for fuckin’ sure.
Not when I see women, and hell even some men, flirt with him, thinking they have a chance. Before the world ended, I used to slide up next to him, my hands all over him, and make it clear that he wasn’t single. Now...I just grit my teeth and give the other person the deadliest glare I can, while watching Negan brush it off, only sometimes flirting back, not that part bothers me.
My husband has always been a flirt. Hell, that’s how he and I ended up becoming best friends, then dating, and even getting married two decades ago. It’s just who he is. Even so, he wouldn’t cheat on me, that I know for a fact. And, I know it abso-fuckin’-lutely kills him to see men and women flirt with me, thinking that I’d be up for a one-night stand.
I never am. Not when I have the man of my dreams still by my side. Even if he is a jealous ass at times who doesn’t like to share what’s his. That always turns into some of the best sex of our lives after he catches some fuck flirting with me. Not that I ever flirt back. That’s just not who I am; I’ve never been much of a flirter…’cept with Negan.
Other than watching people flirt with the other, Negan and I have managed to keep our relationship secret. I mean, yes. We still sneak touches, glances, and whispered words when we think no-one’s ‘round, and we always come home to each other every night, and we still wear our wedding rings, but we don’t flaunt our marital status.
And nobody questions the close-knit bond he and I have. They figure it’s just one of those “gotta survive, so I teamed up with this person” type of bonds that are common since the dead started walking. And...no one would dare question the barbed-wire covered bat-wielding, leather jacket wearing, swear with every other word, leader of the Sanctuary.
Hearing my husband’s deep chuckle, I glance up and hide a smile as I see him pat Simon’s shoulder. I raise a brow, drawing the conclusion that they’re finally finished discussing plans for the day. Maybe Simon’ll fuck off now and I can get back to enjoying breakfast with my husband. Negan glances at me and shoots me a wink as he takes a sip of the orange juice we picked up from the Hilltop a few days ago.
I blush a little, glancing back at my plate and pick up a strip of bacon, bringing it to my mouth, taking a bite, and glancing back at him. A smirk plays on my lips as I watch his eyes dart from mine to the piece of cooked meat between my lips.
“Leigh.” He growls softly.
I smirk. “Yes, Sir?”
His eyes darken and I try not to giggle at the lust and love that swims in his muddy water brown eyes. He discreetly shifts in his seat, stretching out his fuckin’ long-ass legs until his boots brush my shins. To anyone else, it’d look like he’s getting comfortable. But, I know better. He’s itching to touch me, and I know he’s hard from me calling him “Sir”.
“You’re going out on the run today, right?” He asks, playing it off like he’s not rubbing his boot up and down my lower leg.
“As far as I know, Sir. Unless you need me here for something?” I question, taking another bite of bacon.
“Nope. I need you out there with me. You’re the only fuckin’ person I trust to have my fuckin’ back and protect my sexy ass.”
I snort with a laugh. “Of course, Boss. Whatever you need.”
Simon shakes his head. “She can’t fuckin’ protect you, boss. She’s too tiny.”
Both Negan and I jerk our heads to glare at Simon. Negan’s foot pauses, pressing against my knee, I reach a hand down to slide my fingers under his jeans, and softly stroke the little bit of skin above the top of his boot in an attempt to calm him. My actions remain hidden by the table, thankfully, and I watch him relax just a little at my touch.
“Simon…” He and I both growl out at the exact same time.
“I have protected his ass since long before yours ever showed up. I’m the one who’s been there for him, stitched him up, and killed any fucker, dead or alive, who tried to take him out.” I hiss at the slightly balding man. “Yes, I am short, but you know what they say ‘bout short folks. We’re closer to Hell, so we’re meaner. And, I will fuck you up, along with any other fuckin’ dumbass that tries to mess with him.”
Negan nods. “She’s right. She will. And she’ll do it over something as simple as someone trying to steal a bite of her food. ‘Cept for me of course. ‘Cause I’m the Leader, and I can do what I fuckin’ want. Ain’t that right, doll?”
He glances at me as he reaches for a bite of my eggs. I rub my thumb across his leg as I nod. He’s right. I have fucked people up for trying to steal my food. Even if it’s just meant playfully. I don’t fuckin’ share it. Never have. Unless it was with my brothers, my best friend, and eventually Negan. It even became our thing while we were dating.
That was actually how he figured out that I liked him back.
“That’s fuckin’ right. So, Simon, if I can fuck someone up over trying to steal my food, just imagine what I can do to someone who tries to hurt Negan.” I say, finishing my strip of bacon.
Simon’s eyes widen, and I know he’s heard the stories ‘bout what I’ve done when some of the other Saviors once tried to, jokingly, take a bite of my food off my plate. Let’s just say that they ended up with jobs that didn’t require the use of both hands after that. He shakes his head, sighing.
“Whatever. I can still protect him better than you can, Leigh. I’ve easily got a foot and 150 pounds on you.” He gripes.
I raise a brow. “And we both know I’ve kicked your ass before. Or do you need a reminder?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
Negan laughs and shakes his head as he reaches for another piece of food off my tray. I don’t pay it any attention until I see what he’s reaching for. In one quick movement, my hand is off his leg, above the table, and holding a fork between his fingers, leaving it embedded in the tabletop.
“Don’t. Fuckin’. Touch. My. Motherfuckin’. Bacon.” I hiss, glaring at my husband.
Every fuckin’ thing and every single person in the Sanctuary goes silent at my actions. I’m not surprised. They don’t know he and I are married. To them, I’m just a Savior who just threatened the Boss. Granted, I intentionally missed and Negan knows that. He knows I’d never hurt him. A moment later, Simon has his hands on me, jerking my arms behind my back.
I growl and slam my head back, busting his nose and knocking him to the ground, effectively loosening his grip on me. I glare at my husband for a brief moment, taking in his wide eyes and slightly opened mouth, before I quickly stand and pin Simon to the ground.
“Do. Not. Under. ANY. FUCKIN’. Circumstance. Lay. A. Fuckin’. Hand. On. Me.” I growl at him. “I’m not some bitch you can just touch, Simon. And you’d best fuckin’ remember that. What happens between Negan and I is our business. And he fuckin’ knows better than to steal my goddamn bacon. The punishment for stealing my food is NOTHING compared to someone thinkin’ they can touch me. And, if you ever fuckin’ touch me again, I will string you up by your goddamn tiny ass dick and stick you on that fence my-fuckin’-self. Am I fuckin’ understood?”
He swallows deeply, or well, as best as he can since his face is bruising, and blood pouring outta his nose. But, he nods in understanding, fear flashing through his eyes as he glares at me. I stand, kicking him in the side once, just below the ribs.
“Get the fuck outta here and go fuckin’ see Carson, you pornstache creep.” I hiss before turning back to the table, taking my seat once more, and drinking my orange juice.
I hear him shuffle to his feet before he walks away. I smirk to myself and turn my attention back to my husband. He’s clearly still in shock. Not once have I ever physically threatened him for taking my food, and it’s because I generally don’t mind. Except when it comes to my bacon. No one fuckin’ touches my bacon and he’s known that.
He was just trying to prove a point to Simon earlier, but it backfired on him. There’s only been two people in my life who I have shared my bacon with: my baby brother, Eli, and mine and Negan’s daughter, Lucille. Up until we lost her to childhood leukemia at the age of 5. I take another sip of my orange juice as I stare at my husband.
Negan holds his hands up in surrender as he lets out a shaky laugh. His foot isn’t close to my leg anymore, and if I wasn’t slightly pissed off at him for trying to steal my bacon, I’d whine softly at the loss. He leans in closer to me and just barely manages to whisper, but it’s still loud ‘nough for those ‘round to hear.
“You’re fuckin’ lucky I fuckin’ love you, sweetheart.”
My eyes widen at his words. It’s not the first time I’ve heard him tell me he loves me, but it is the first time since the dead started walking that I’ve heard him say those words where other people can clearly hear. I know my left eyebrow is now raised high, surely resting halfway between my hairline and my eye.
He just smirks that dimpled little smirk at me, thinking he’s got the upper hand again.
Oh, but he doesn’t know just how wrong he is.
I smirk over the top of my glass of orange juice, before lowering it to the table and leaning in close to him. Our lips are just a breath’s touch away from touching each other’s. Instead of kissing him right away like I really want to, I whisper something back to him.
“I love you too, and I don’t give a flying Fuck if you’re the leader or not. You. Do. Not. Fuckin’. Touch. My. Motherfuckin’. Bacon. I won’t miss next time.”
Only once the words have left my lips do I allow myself to kiss him. I don’t really give a flying fuck ‘bout everyone watching at this point. The cat’s basically outta the bag. I smile and relax, calming down a little bit, giving in to the feeling of the kiss. Just before he can turn the kiss into a more passionate one, I pull back, smirking at him.
“No runs, mister. Not today. You’ve got a punishment waiting for you in the room.” I say, my voice low and full of unspoken promises.
As I stand once more, grabbing my tray, I watch as he flashes me that devilish, dimpled grin I fell in love with over 20 years ago. That “I’m a bad boy and you shouldn’t introduce me to Grandma” dimpled grin. I wink at him before walking away, putting my tray in the bin to be cleaned later by one of the kitchen workers.
Without looking back at him, I know he’s still got that grin on his face and that he ain’t moving till his hard-on has gone down just a little so he can comfortably walk. Just before I walk out the cafeteria’s door, I raise my hand above my shoulder and flip him off. His laugh follows me out into the hallway as I make my way back to our room.
Leader or not, I don’t give a fuck. He’s still my husband and our relationship’s no longer a secret. Leader or not, I don’t give a fuck. No one fuckin’ touches my bacon. Leader or not, I don’t give a fuck. He’s getting punished. Leader or not, I don’t give a fuck.
#Leader or Not#Negan One-Shot#Negan Fanfic#Negan#Negan x OFC Character#Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Negan#Jeffrey Dean Morgan One-Shot#Jeffrey Dean Morgan Fanfic#Jeffrey Dean Morgan#JDM One-Shot#jdm fanfiction#JDM#The Walking Dead One-Shot#The Walking Dead Fanfic#The Walking Dead#TWD One-Shot#TWD Fanfic#TWD
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The Sea Swept In
A/N: This is the first of the “Play the Hand You’re Dealt” request event, and...it’s a doozy. This takes place in the Core Drive storyline, roughly ten years before the current timeline. (I have to fuck around with timelines because it’s a Westworld fic. I don’t make the rules.)Basically, I have some lengthy and detailed HCs about Logan and Juliet’s mother, the type of relationship that she had with Logan, and the impact that she has in his life. All we get about her are question marks, so I decided to fill them in the way I (unfortunately) think it went. Title comes from this song.
Warning: lot’s of language. probably the most F bombs I’ve ever dropped in a single piece. Delicate subject matter
Word Count: 2,234
Requested by: @malionnes - Core Drive Logan, Angst, Secrets and Lies, & Illness or Injury
That fucking bastard.
Logan used the back of his shaking right hand to wipe at his nose as he sniffed, heading for the door. Flipping it over, he dragged the palm over his mouth, pressing it hard over his lips. His fingers pushed into the flesh of his cheek, thumb squeezing his jawbone almost painfully before dragging his grip down over the meticulously groomed beard covering his chin. He let out a puff of air against his skin, closing his eyes to try to control the dizziness.
He was livid, almost blind from the bright flash of anger. I should have… fuck, I should have known, should have expected this. Dropping his hand from his face, Logan brought both up to the top of his head, stacking one atop the other before sliding them back over his hair and down the curve of his skull. Should have known this is how he’d handle it… He gripped the back of his neck and paused as he reached the door that connected the small sitting room to the main hallway to look over his shoulder. From here she looked even smaller, even more disconnected, the muscles of her face still holding onto the smile he’d put there, but the gleam in her warm eyes already cooling into confusion. Jesus, she can’t... he’s gonna kill her. He turned his head back around, blinking hard against the tears that blurred his vision. They weren’t from pity or even sadness, stinging the corners of his eyes- so much like hers- with red, radiant rage. I hate him, I-
“Logan?”
He froze at the sound of his name. Her voice was layered, the sweet, lilting tone he’d grown up with strangled like roses wrapped in vines under exhaustion and frustration. But she’s still in there, she’s still… and he’s… He swallowed and shook his father from his mind. I’ll deal with him in a minute. He cleared his throat and turned back around to face her, feeling the way that his eyes softened as he did.
“Yeah, Mom?” He heard his own voice separate and break, splintering into youthful innocence crushed beneath the weight of experiences and responsibilities that fell upon him far too soon.
A sudden sadness filled her eyes as her forehead furrowed in thought. “Did I…” She frowned. “I missed your birthday, didn’t I?” Her bottom lip quivered, and despite her question he could see in her face that she knew the answer.
Shit, Mom, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. Like the slow turning of a screw, Logan felt her pain twisting in his chest. He sighed. It would be easiest to lie, brush it off and tell her no, that she didn’t miss it, that it was still weeks away and that she had plenty of time. But even if the doctors and specialists hadn’t warned against using white lies to patch all the holes, Logan wouldn’t do that. He’d never lied to his mother before, even when telling the truth had gotten him in trouble, and he wouldn’t start now just to save himself some. She trusts me, I’m not gonna…
“Yeah, Mom,” he nodded and shrugged one shoulder, tilting his head to the side. “It was last Wednesday.”
Her posture, already shrunken, fell even further as she dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Goddamnit,” she blinked twice, face upturned towards the ceiling before squeezing her eyelids tightly shut. Disappointment was written in every tiny twitch of her lips and minute wrinkle in the skin around her eyes as they opened again. “Goddamnit...God...fucking… damn it.” She hung her head, a choked sound coming from her throat.
Logan crossed back to where she sat by the open window, long white curtains rippling in the light lilac scented breeze. “Hey, it’s okay, Mom,” he shook his head, eyebrows drawn together as he knelt down next to her. He was reminded of all the times she’d soothed him as a child, stemming tears from scraped knees and aches from fevers with just the utterance of those few words- “It’s okay, Logan”- her long hair falling like a shield around him as she wrapped him tightly in her arms. It was okay then. This is… He tentatively reached out to place his hand on her arm. This isn’t okay, I can’t make this okay, it’s not the same. “Mom, really,” he pleaded gently, trying to push down the anger that still threatened to bubble back to the surface, trying to channel any ounce of the balanced tenderness and strength that she exuded in his memory. “Don’t cry, okay? It’s no big deal. I didn’t even,” he squeezed her arm to get her to look at him, giving her a small smile. “You didn’t miss anything. I had two finals, and then had to study for another one. So you didn’t,” he sighed. “You didn’t miss a thing, Mom,” he said truthfully. “Besides, 20’s not special. Next year’s the big one.”
She wiped at her eyes with her free hand before dropping it back to her lap. “I tried, Logan, I tried to... I knew it was coming soon… I knew and I couldn’t…” She took a breath to steady herself, then brought her trembling fingers up to catch a piece of his hair between them, moving it back into place. “I’m sorry, Logan…” She pressed her lips together and sniffed, wrangling her spiked emotions with impressive restraint. “Happy Birthday,” she said, fingers trailing away from the side of his head. “I’m so proud of you. Always, always remember that.”
The screws in the vice around his heart tightened more, threaded grooves digging deeper as her words hit him. You’re the only one who ever was, how could I forget? “I know, Mom,” he quickly dragged one knuckle under each of his eyes, swiping them dry as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “I know you are.” He tried to stand then, intending to go speak with his father and unleash the violent rage that he felt, but she stopped him, shocking him with her physical strength as she wound her arms around his shoulders. Oh. He adjusted his stance, shifting to his other knee as he returned the embrace. “Hey, its-”
“Don’t let him ruin you, Logan. Stay you, don’t let him…” She sounded more like she had the last time he’d seen her, before the start of the last semester that he’d just finished. Fuck, she means…he cringed, his father’s weathered, stoic face filling his mind. She knows, she still understands… she knows he, that he’s not...But before her words had made their full impact, he turned her head and the clarity was gone. “Oh, is that...did I paint that?” Releasing her grown son, she stood and took a step closer to the small canvas square displayed on the easel in the corner.
Logan rose to his full height, cautiously following her. You were there Mom, for a second, you were back. He cleared his throat, gesturing to the painting that had been the first thing she’d told him about almost an hour ago. “Yeah.” He tried to catch the break in his voice but it slipped through. “Yeah, you told me that you did that one yesterday.” He watched her stare at it, his own eyes darting to the much larger, framed piece that hung nearby, one she’d done before he was even born. It depicted a cottage on the sea, the waves swirling in soothing patterns of greens and blues, delicate brushstrokes and intricate linework adding lifelike depth and dimension that always seemed magical to Logan when he’d watch her work. Do you remember what you were like? His eyes flicked back to the small square that she was transfixed by. It was covered with wide, waving swaths of blue and purple, the bottom corner a triangle of beige, white dots scattered throughout. What do you see there?
He would have asked her, but she turned to answer before he could get the question out. “Can’t you hear it just looking at it?” Hear it? Hear what? He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, looking more intently at the blocks of color, the strained shapes. “The ocean?” He felt his eyebrows fly up. That’s? He looked back to the other painting, then back at his mother, at the wistfulness in her eyes that told him that she was far away, toes in the sand and sun warming her skin. She was there, in those rudimentary splashes of paint. That’s the ocean.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, Mom, I can hear it.” She smiled at him, cheeks going round to turn her eyes into crescents, the same way that his did when he was genuinely happy. “I’m… I have to go take care of some things, okay?”
She nodded, arms crossed as she regarded her work. “Okay, I’ll see you later.” She said it with casual ease, the way she sounded when she’d send him and Juliet off to school each morning.
“I’ll see you later,” he repeated. I promise. It was clear to him that she’d been absolutely starved for interaction, and he’d do anything he could while he was home to make sure that that wasn’t the case. Fuck, it’s like… it’s like he doesn’t want her to get better.
By the time he’d reached the thick wooden door that led to his father’s study, Logan could hardly see straight, blinded once again by that flash of anger, of contempt. Knocking once, he didn’t wait for an answer, barging in without caring if he was interrupting anything. I don’t give a fucking shit, nothing he’s doing is more important that this, and he’s going to hear what I have to say.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” The stout, balding form of his father rose from his desk in outrage. “Don’t you know how to knock? When did you even get home, what are you-”
But Logan hadn’t stopped advancing, closing the door behind himself and marching right up until only the intricately carved desk stood between the two men. Jim Delos’ beady eyes widened in surprise as his son’s fists slammed into the hard surface. The impact numbed his hands and sent tingles up into his elbow but he didn’t react. “You told me she was doing better. You told me she was fine, that the new drugs were working, and then you fucking…” He could feel the fire scorching his eyes, could feel his vocal chords shaking as he spat venom at his father who stood there blinking at him. “You leave her alone in there. All damn day. You leave her alone and she’s…” He blew out a breath. “She’s fucking dissolving in there and you...That’s my mother. That’s your wife and you don’t give a fucking shit because if you did, you wouldn’t fucking lie to me and, and tell me that she’s doing better when she’s not. You wouldn’t have her on these… these fucking pills that your fucking hack doctors came up with, you’d have her on that shit Regent put out last Fall and-”
“Are you fuckin’ done?” The man had had enough, snarling at his son.
Not even close, you goddamn bastard. Logan’s nostrils flared and his chest heaved slightly, breathing uneven from the pure, uncut anger coursing through him. “You gonna try to justify it?” He let out a dry laugh that held no humor. “Go the fuck ahead, I’d love to hear this one.”
Jim shifted his weight and squared his shoulders. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to distract you from your schoolwork, your finals.”
Is he fucking kidding me? Logan gripped the sides of his head before extending his arms out in frustration. “Finals? What the fuck are you talking about? She’s... “ She’s gonna fucking die, gonna rot away in there and… He felt tears prick at his eyes again and cursed to himself, heart sinking.
“The one fuckin’ thing you’re good at is getting good grades. It’s the only thing you can do for this family, Logan- not fuck up. I knew if I told you the truth you’d come running back here, cryin and you’d throw everything away, we’d have the media on us in a heartbeat to rip open the company and-”
Logan shook his head, hearing the words but not comprehending them at all. How is he… He blinked and looked at the man he’d grown up in fear of. How can he be so fucking cold… It dawned on Logan that there was nothing he could do or say to get him to change anything, to get him to admit his cruelty or even to caring about the woman staring at the canvas in the room down the hall. “You disgust me.” He turned and left as abruptly as he’d entered, Jim shouting after him that he couldn’t just walk away, not while he was talking to him.
Watch me, asshole.
He spent the rest of his break with her. She told him about her painting every damn day. “I can hear it, Mom.” He’d tell her, a relaxed but tired smile curving her features as he focused on the sound of waves in his memory, wondering if she was doing the same. Doesn’t matter. I can hear it… I really can. It sounded like freedom, and he understood.
.
.
.
@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @thesumofmychoices @lexxierave @belladonnarey @ymariejp @obscurilicious @songtoyou @traeumerinwitzhelden @drinix @jigsawlover10 @getlostinyourparadise @nananananananananananabatman @malionnes @bicevans @qhostboyyy @with1love1anu @luminex3
please let me know if you would like to be added or removed to this list, or to the list for this event in general! thank you for reading, and I promise something MUCH happier next!
#play the hand you're dealt#card game prompts#core drive#logan delos#core drive logan#logan delos au#law school logan#young logan delos#delicate topics#angst#illness or injury#secrets & lies#jim delos is a slab of human refuse and that is a hill i will die on#no i will not get off this soap box until each and every soul on this earth knows how scummy this man is
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Love and Drugs
Show: Euphoria
Pairing: Fezco x reader
So if you haven't see Euphoria on HBO, you're fucking missing out! I haven't seen much fan fiction written about any characters yet and I'm in LOVE w Angus so here's a little Fez x reader fic for y'all!!
(GIF credits to the owner!!)
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The loud music of the party rung through my ears, and the feeling of alcohol hitting my bloodstream washed over me. I waded through the crowds of people, mostly teenagers from the lame high ass school I had graduated from 2 years prior.
Most people moved away from this shitty town as soon as they could, so I attempted to mingle with the people my age, the few there were. I had come here with Rue; she was like my little sister.
I first met her my senior year, her freshman one. I had been around/experimenting with drugs since I was 14, so Rue and I instantly clicked. I never got addicted to anything or tried anything I didn't want to, but that wasn't the case for Rue.
I made my way back to Rue and Lexi, who were observing an intensely boring round of beer pong.
"You guys wanna go outside? I'm trying to spark this hoe." I questioned, pulling out the large blunt from my purse.
"Hell yeah!" A hype Rue chimed in, followed by a hesitant, "Uh sure." From Lexi.
We walked through the back door and I observed about 20-30 people sitting outside or along the edge of the pool. I prayed no one would come up and ask for a hit.
Just as the thought crossed my mind, I saw a red headed guy walking our way, well really Rue's way it looked like.
They greeted each other and she introduced both Lexi and I.
"...and this is Y/N, she's back in town for a little while, graduated from here." Rue spoke.
"Nice to meet you I'm Fez." He said extending a hand for me to shake and looking me up and down.
I shook it and smiled at him, "I swear we've met before."
"You went to school the same time as me. I was supposed to graduate with y'all class but I dropped out."
"Ah I remember seeing you around school now, but I swear I know you from somewhere else, if only I could put my finger on it...", the blunt was passed to me, and I held it between my fingers and took a big hit. And then it hit me.
"Holy fuck, I remember you now, I bought some really good weed from you, like primo shit, and a few xans and had one of the best highs of my life. You still sell?" I asked with mild curiosity.
He gave me a nod and a yea. I passed the blunt to him, offering for him to take a hit and smoke with us. As I passed it to him, I saw his eyes glance me up and down once again. A small smirk settled onto my lips.
"Hey we're going to the restroom, be right back!" Lexi piped up.
I nodded as her and Rue walked off, probably going to pee and get some water.
I took a glance at Fez who was already looking at me, causing a soft blush to rise in my cheeks. God he was cute and cool but it's like he had this wall up that even drunk me noticed and felt aprehensive about speaking too much to him.
"Hey Fez?" I asked looking sheepishly into his eyes.
"Yea?" He asked taking a hit from the blunt.
He looked really hot when he did that.
"You wanna play 20 questions?" I asked, smiling at how he was confused.
"Yea sure, wasn't really expectin' you to ask me that but fuck it I'm down."
"Oh really, what'd you think I was going to ask you huh?" I raised an eyebrow, now it was his turn to blush.
"If I answer then it counts as one of your 20 questions."
"Noooo boooo not fair." I pouted and he just laughed.
We spent the next twenty minutes playing twenty questions and getting to know each other and finishing off the blunt. I was gone out of my mind, but something about this guy kept me so grounded. It was strange that I'd known him but never really known him for so long.
"Ok last one," I said, "do you think I'm cute?" I could tell he was a little shy and nervous.
"Yea. I think you're actually real fuckin cute girl. You think I'm cute?" He asked.
"I think you're real fuckin cute too. So what are you gonna do about it?" I challenged.
He leaned over, a hand finding its way onto my thigh, and whispered in my ear,
"Well I'd love to you show you what I'm finna to do about it, but I'd have to wait til we're somewhere more..private."
A shiver went up my spine and I clenched my thighs together. I could feel Fez looking at me, waiting on a response, but honestly all I wanted him to do was fuck me, like now. I, of course, knew I couldn't just come out and say that so I took a shaky breath, and said,
"Well why don't you take me somewhere more private?" Giving him a seductive look as I look into his eyes and moved his hand further up my thigh.
Just as he was about to respond, we heard the approaching footsteps and voices of Rue and Lexi.
Fez's hand left my thigh, but we were still sitting rather close together. Rue, knowing us both, glanced over our appearances.
"What's with you two looking hot and heavy when we first came out?" She questioned boldly, seeing as how she was high as a kite.
I chuckled and hoped Fez would follow my lead.
"Girl you trippin, we were just gettin to know each other is all. But this party blows, I'm ready to dip." I sighed glancing at my nails, trying to be as unbothered as possible.
"Well me and Lex are gonna hang around for another hour." Rue said.
"You want me to come pick y'all back up later or you gonna walk home?" I asked.
Before Rue could answer, Lexi interrupted her and said,
"We'll walk! I'm sure it will sober us up!"
"I'll walk you out." Fez offered, a gleam in his eyes.
The two shared a knowing glance and let out a laugh as he spoke. As we said our goodbyes, Rue offered me one piece of advice,
"Don't forget to use condoms kiddo!"
"Hey you're younger than me! And I'm a child of god you should know that!" I exclaimed in a playful tone.
I turned and grabbed Fez by the arm, leading him to my car. As I turned around, my back against the car door, he leaned in for a kiss.
I felt the sparks and the tension that had been building finally burst and kissed him back with the same passion.
"This is going to be the best night of your life."
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The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 20
Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!
Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.
PLEASE READ:
I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.
I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!
I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!
There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.
The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!!
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Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…
Characters:
Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)
Cillian Murphy
Word Count: 4,972
!!Warnings!!: None!!
Date: February 2017
Chapter Name: Disaster
Brief Chapter Outline: Her Sunday gig went fine till Lucia came along and spilled some information to Leo, Gabrijela’s brother. The next day Gab faces off with her parents about who she’s been seeing with. It ends badly...
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It came around to her Sunday gig and tonight it seemed more people had joined in the club.
"God! I've never seen this place so packed!" Maya said as they were readying themselves on the stage.
"Literal madhouse." Ben nodded as he plucked his guitar to tune it.
Gabbie giggled and glanced up, Cillian was seated right at the front, drinking his favourite beer. He raised it and gave her a smile then mouth 'I love you'.
She blushed and repeated it in the same manner before it was time to start the show. They played mostly rock again this time, replaying some fan favourites from last night.
Cillian watched from his vantage spot since he had to move now as people crowded around the damn stage to dance and take photos. He was unable to see his love so he stood a little farther back drinking his beer. He took some photos but not much, he liked to remember the moment and not have a phone to aid him in remembering.
He was minding his own business when someone brushed up against him, "Hey, Cillian."
Glancing over, Cillian frowned and moved away. The girl was dressed in a leopard patterned tube top with a matching mini skirt that really was sitting at the edge of baring her ass. She had curly black hair and eyes that seemed to gobble him up and readying him for sex.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" He did not like how the girl had come on to him so strongly, and she stayed way to close for comfort.
"What? How can you not know me?" She looked totally hurt. "Lucia. You know, Gabbie's only best friend in this whole fucking world." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.
"Ah... Yes. Lucia. Hi." He kept his guard up, he wasn't going to let this girl do anything to him. He remembered when Gab had told him what happened between Logan and Lucia.
"Hi. No how are you? Wow, thanks. I'm fine." She raised a brow. "You gonna get me a drink or should I stay here looking like a moron?"
Cillian was in total shock as to how she was acting. Rude and pushy. He never really came across anyone like her and so he stuttered when he tried to speak. No use.
"Of course. I know. I am so fucking gorgeous, I know that's what you are thinking and why you are so dumbfounded and not speaking. So, I shall forgive you for that." She touched his arm and gave him a smile that made him shiver. "Oh? You liked that?" She had backed him to a pole and he frowned.
"I don't. Please stop touching me." He had set down his empty beer glass and gently pulled her hands off him.
"What? You like, shivered so of course, you liked that." She went to reach for his shirt and he grabbed her wrists.
"Stop. I will call the security to kick you out. Now leave me alone, please." He stayed entirely calm.
"What's happening here?" Gabbie asked as she weaved her way through the crowd.
Cillian hadn't seen them finish and sighed, "Nothing. I was telling Lucia to leave me be."
"Shall I call the security?" Gab asked as she stepped to his side, locking her arm around his. She looked at Lucia, no hint of emotion.
"No! Oh my god. I wasn't doing anything at all, how can you think that? God, I missed you!" Lucia went to go hug Gab but she threw her hand out to stop her.
"What is wrong with you?" She asked with a deep frown.
"What? Nothing is wrong. I miss my bestie! Can't I hug you?" Lucia placed her hands on her hips.
"No. And I am not your bestie. I'm nothing to you. Now leave us alone, I don't want to see you at all." Gabrijela tugged Cillian away as Lucia watched them go with pure anger and hatred shining in her eyes.
"Sorry about that." Gabbie said as they came to the bar.
"No, no. Don't be sorry. Not your fault." Cillian leaned down and kissed her forehead. "What are you gonna have?" He asked her as he pulled out his wallet to pay.
"Uh. Nothing if you're paying." Gabbie placed her hand over his. "I got this. I swear."
"No, please. You've been playing all night. Let me treat you to something." He held her hand and smiled in a way that would so make her comply with him.
She groaned, "Fine. Only cause you're cute." She giggled and he ordered her a mocktail.
"I'm gonna head to the men's toilet, you good here by yourself?" He asked.
"Yep. I'll wait here." She kissed him softly and he slipped away.
Gab stood there, sipping her drink and enjoying the atmosphere. Until someone stepped up beside her.
"Who was that?" Leo, Gabrijela's brother, the youngest of the three older brothers she had.
"Wh- Leo! Hi, hello. Who was who?" Gab raised a brow. Her heart instantly kicked in fast mode, no one in her family knew she was dating a guy. Especially a much older guy who had knocked her up now.
"Gabrijela. The one you kissed." He raised a brow, dark eyes bore into hers in that familiar overprotective instinct.
"No idea what you are going on about. You must've mistaken me for another couple beside me." She turned away, facing the bar as she twirled her glass.
He muttered a curse word in Croatian and was about to tell her off when Lucia wedged herself between them.
"Hi, Leo. Nice to see you again." She battered her eyes at him.
"Lucia." Leo wasn't fond of Lucia one bit.
Gabrijela was getting worried now. She wasn't ready to tell her family that she was dating Cillian and Lucia was here now... Oh fuck.
"Has Gabbie told you the good news?" Lucia smiled wickedly at Leo.
"What news?" His brows furrowed.
"Jeez, she's been real secretive now, huh?" She turned to Gab. "Go on. Tell him."
"There is nothing to speak about. Now get lost, Lucia. I have no idea why the fuck you are here." Gab was going to lose her shit. She truly hated Lucia. She ruined her life and she wasn't going to let her do it again.
"Oh my god. Fine, I'll tell him." She sighed and rolled her eyes and turned to Leo, "She's fuckin' Cillian Murphy. You know, the dude from Peaky Blinders. Plays Thomas Shelby. The super old guy." Lucia dumped the news on Leo. "They practically fucked the first night she was in London, I saw it when I was speaking to her-"
Gabrijela snatched someone else's drink and used her own to just dump it on the bitch, "You son of a bitch! Stop ruining my life!" She screamed, totally losing her shit now.
Lucia screamed out and faced her, and gave one mighty shove which made Gabrijela hurtle backwards with Lucia on top of her.
Cillian saw it all unfold as he had arrived over and he and Leo jumped into action and yanked off the screeching woman off Gabrijela who almost clawed her face off.
"Fuck you! Why can't you see I'm helping you?! I am your best friend! Forever!" Lucia hollered as a security guard came over to drag her dumb ass out.
Gabrijela was in shock as Cillian's arms came around her and helped her to her feet, "Holy shit. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He did not let her go.
"I need air." She whispered to him as she held on to him for dear life.
"I got you." He whispered gently as they walked out of the bar and away from the people to a bench along the street a little way down the path.
Gabrijela sat and took in deep breaths, her hand subtly on her tummy as she calmed her nerves.
"What the fuck was that, Gab?" Leo had found them outside and wasn't too happy. "Talk to me now."
"Excuse me, it's clear she needs a moment, whoever you are." Cillian stood and kept himself between the guy and Gab.
Leo glanced at him, "She's my fucking sister. I need to talk to her."
"Give her a moment, then you may," Cillian repeated with a much more clear and authoritative tone.
"And who the fuck are you? You the guy that's fucking my sister? Huh? Are ya?" Leo was getting up into his face now.
"Leo. Fuck. Off." Gabrijela looked up, "Seriously. I do not want to talk to you right now. I need to be on my fucking own." She stood and began to walk down the street.
"Don't you talk to me like that, I need you to come right back here! Now!" Leo shouted.
"I said leave me alone! Do you not get that? LEAVE. ME. ALONE!!" Gabrijela shouted back.
Cillian was at her side and arm around her, "Hey. Relax. Come on. Let's go back to my hotel yeah?"
"Oh hell no she isn't. She's coming back home with me. Mum and Dad want to talk to you and I think I know what it is." Leo's eyes focused on Cillian now.
Gab saw the look and felt sick suddenly, then threw up all over her brother.
"Gah! The fuck!" He stumbled back as he glanced at himself then at Gabrijela. "You go back with him, Mum and Dad are gonna be so mad."
"Don't care." Gab stayed close to Cillian as he hailed a taxi and they got in.
"Gabrijela, come on- Fucking hell get out of that taxi!" Leo yelled as he watched the cab drive off.
Gab wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head. "My god." She whispered.
"That was a mess," Cillian said, placing a hand on her thigh gently.
"It was." She murmured and leaned against him some more.
They reached the hotel finally and her phone had not once stopped buzzing from Leo or her friends. She replied to her friends she was okay and not to worry much. She sat on the bed as Cillian prepared a bath for her in which she was grateful for then undressed and eased into the warm water.
Cillian stayed close, "Want me to put music on?" He asked as he stroked her hair gently.
She glanced over and nodded, "I'd love that. And... Is it okay if I could be alone for a bit?" She murmured softly.
"Of course my love. You can take as long as needed." He leaned over and kissed her lightly and set the music up, turned the lights low which she was eternally grateful for and she was alone. She sunk back into the water a little and soaked up the oils and scents.
Tonight had gone good and then ended badly. Lucia had once again ruined her life and she had not expected Leo to be there. And what the fuck did he mean by Mum and Dad wanting to talk to her about? She thought hard and... Maybe... Oh god. Gab felt panic rise in her but she tried to push it away.
She had to find out tomorrow whether she liked it or not.
-----
Cillian had been the best to her all night and all morning. He had made sure she was comfortable, happy and well-fed. And by fed not just by food.
Gab flopped back on the bed beside Cillian. She was grinning, she had ridden him for most of the fuck session which his morning wood had woken her.
"God." Cillian looked at her, his smile wide, "You really take the breath out of me." He reached over and cupped her face.
"Do I now? Is that good?" She rolled over and placed a hand over his chest, fiddling with that fine hair.
"I think so. Or it's showing how old I am getting." He chuckled softly.
"Nah. I think you just haven't had someone like me." She leaned in and kissed him deeply.
"Mm, true." He murmured as he turned to pull her close to his body. He made to move on top of her to continue but her damn phone rang. Again.
"Ugh." Gabbie groaned as he laid back as she sat up and padded to her bag. She pulled out her phone and cursed.
"Who is it?" Cillian sat up, his back to the headboard.
"My Dad. And Mum. Called me like eight times." She let the phone ring to the end. Then listened to the voice message.
"Hi, Gabrijela. I've been calling you all morning now and you are not picking up. Leo informed me of who you got into the taxi with and you need to come home right this instant. We need to have a chat of what you have been up to and what you have been hiding from us. Get home now."
She rolled her eyes. Her dad was very pissed off. She listened to her Mum's.
"Hello, darling. Please pick up I want to know if you are safe, that is all. Your father is cursing up a storm here and it would be good of you to at least call one of us. Please come home, we need to discuss some things."
Gabrijela knew her mum was trying to be nice but she knew she was very disappointed in her. She sighed, "I have to head home, Cillian."
"Your parents?" He frowned as she began to dress.
"Yep. I am going towards a war zone right now. I need to mentally prepare myself." She had hoped nothing bad would go this arvo. She had plans for tomorrow with Cillian as it was Valentine's day. A surprise for him and she was quite excited about it. She had done the organising yesterday morning when they lazed around in bed.
"And you have to go now?" He asked as she came to the bed and sat down.
"I do, sadly. I'm sorry Cillian." She frowned and took his hand, "I don't want to but for the sake of my parents... I must." She let out a sigh through her nose.
He squeezed her hand, "Okay. I'll figure something to do today." He smiled, "I love you. Call me later if you can?"
"Always. Also, be ready by ten tomorrow morning." She leaned over and kissed him deeply.
"Why?" He returned it, moving closer.
"Can't tell you. It's a surprise." She giggled and patted his cheek as they kept kissing and she was the one to pull away. "Bye-bye. I love you forever, Cillian." She murmured and he watched her leave the room.
Upon arriving home, she was glad her parents were not home and had gone to work. She spent time with her niece Tijana and her sister-in-law Tatiana who was married to Leo. She had spoken to Tatiana about what was to come tonight and she was happy that her sister-in-law was supportive.
"Leo was all mad." She said as they sat outside in the backyard, Tijana playing with her toys.
"I bet he was." Gab sighed as she took a drink of her coffee. "He yelled at me last night after Lucia attacked me and demanded me to go home. I seriously did not want to go home."
"You stayed with that man? What is his name? What is he like?" She asked with a small smile.
"I did. His name is Cillian." Gabrijela found herself smiling at the thought, "He is the most amazing man I've ever met. We got so much in common, we always have something to talk about. He cares for me, knows my likes and dislikes... He knows me very, very well."
Tatiana watched her and could see the pure love radiating off her, "You love him?"
"I am. So, so, so deeply in love with him. I cannot think of myself with any other person but him." Gab whispered, "I am unbelievably happy, Tatiana. I really am. I've never been in such a good mind before. He makes me crazy."
Tatiana laughed, "And... How old is he? I don't want to judge you or anything but..."
"He's forty-one this year," Gabrijela said softly.
"Wow. Uh... Yeah. That's a big gap. Mum and Dad don't know how old he is, don't think Leo has figured that out yet." Tatiana said. "Though, is he good though?"
"Good in what?" She raised a brow.
"You know. Sex! You must be having sex with him, right? Or is this just a no sex relationship?" Tatiana giggled.
"Of course I am having sex with him! Ugh, he is amazing. Like holy crap amazing. I'm always breathless afterwards." They both laughed and Tatiana beamed.
"And he treats you good?"
"Always. Trust me. He treats me good in many ways, not just in bed." Gabrijela blushed.
The girls spent their day in the backyard before it was time to head inside.
Then it was the sounds of hell rattling down the road and her fathers truck pulled up and parked in the driveway beside the house. Gabrijela was stressing when her mum came home soon after her dad had walked in. The usual discussion of how was his day and making coffee for him then for her mum.
It was about an hour that had passed, Leo home as well when Gabrijela came to the table with her family. She sat at the head of the table for a first and knew she was in for a ride tonight. The worst kind.
"Why didn't you come home with me last night, Gab?" Leo started.
"With the way you spoke to me, no way," Gab said bitterly.
"So you went back with that man? Is that where you went?" He asked.
"Yeah. Back to his hotel room cause I wasn't feeling well and stressed out, Leo. I got attacked by Lucia and almost had my face ripped off!" Gabrijela raised her voice.
"What happened now?" Liljana, her mother, asked with wide eyes. As if this was new to her.
Gab stared at her brother in shock, "You left that bit out? Yeah, Lucia attacked me after she was pestering me all night. She's a damn psycho. I poured wine on her to shut her damn mouth up." Gab shook her head.
"Yeah to shut her up from telling me that Gabrijela is dating a man. Who I know is an actor and a much older actor. I've seen him in that show I've been watching with Gab." Leo bristled.
Gab glanced between her parents, "Fine. Yeah. I've been dating a man who I am very much in love with, alright?"
"How'd you two meet?" Her mum asked.
"When I was overseas doing that internship for the show Peaky Blinders. He's the main character for that show, I had to prepare his costume for each day and help him dress and all that." Gab explained. "We talked. Got close but not close enough since I was with another guy, Logan. Though I had a bad falling out with him as Lucia had come to see me and she slept with him. After that, Cillian, the guy I am now dating, was there for me when I needed someone. And it... Just happened. We clicked after that and now we are inseparable." Gabrijela explained the best she could.
"And how old is this man, Gab? Hm?" Her dad now chimed in.
Gabrijela swallowed. This was it, "He is turning forty-one this-"
"Forty-One?! Gabrijela what is wrong with you? He is too old for you! No! I do not allow this stupidity of yours. You cannot see this man anymore. Whatever it is, it will not last. You are so young, you can do so much better!" Her dad yelled with anger.
"I love him, dad! I am not going to throw all that away just because you don't like it!" Gabrijela was beyond angry now. She was hurting.
"No! You do not know love. You got no experience in what is love. This man, clearly only using you because you are young and agile. He will not want you in a year or two. Do not make a fool of yourself, Gabrijela." Nikola shook his head, "Unbelievable. I thought I raised you better."
"Darling. We only want the best for you and this is not what we had in mind. Please, do not hurt yourself for such an old man. Really? Could you not have found anyone else?" Her mother tried to soothe the pain.
Gab felt tears in her eyes, "No." She pulled her hand back from her mothers, "Cillian is the one. Whether you like it or not. I will continue to be with him-"
"No, you will not. I forbid you from seeing him. If I see you with him I will make sure he-"
"What will you do, huh, dad? You gonna punch him? Ruin your daughter's life just because you can't accept my decisions? You never accepted anything I did. I had to always do what you both wanted me to do. I never got to choose what I wanted. I'm twenty-five years old. I can decide what I do with my life, not you. Not anymore." Gabrijela stood up.
"Not under this roof you don't. I make the rules here, Gabrijela! I do, and you better fucking listen to me." Her father snapped which made her wince.
"Nikola! Don't swear-" Her mother tried to calm him down.
"Yeah? And if I don't? Huh? What are you gonna do, huh? You can't do shit to me, dad." Gabrijela now faced off with her father.
"You will not speak to me like that. I am the leader of this house and you are to follow them. I don't care if you are twenty-five. That does not matter to me. What matters is you living under this roof and you making an absolute fool of your life. You are wasting it! What will happen when he is sixty? Huh? Like me, old and wrinkly. Will you still sleep with him? Hm? Will you still kiss him and be with him when you are in your prime life?"
"You don't know me as well as you do, dad. I love him and I will love him to the end of my fucking life. You better accept it because I will not change anything to suit your wishes. My life dad. My problems." Gabrijela kept her ground. She would not be trampled on like this.
"Enough! Stop it. Gabrijela you are not listening to us. You-"
"Oh, I am listening quite clearly. That's all that I've been doing my whole damn life. I'll take in your considerations but I will not put them into motion. I love Cillian, I will be with him and you have no way of stopping me."
"Get the fuck out of my house then," Nikola said, nothing but rage and spite in his voice.
"Nikola, you will not kick out our daughter," Liljana said.
"Tata, don't do this." Leo seemed afraid and shocked now as how much this had escalated.
"Shut up. She can leave if she wants to do whatever she wants. I do not want to see it then. Pack your shit and get out." Nikola slammed his hands on the table which made everyone jump.
Gabrijela let her tears fall as she stared hard into her father's eyes. "I want to know one thing though," She whispered, "How did you find out?" Gab never posted anything online whatsoever.
It was her mother who replied, "Lucia had told us this morning when Leo mentioned it to us. We did not believe him but when your friend-"
"She is not my friend. I hate her. She is a scumbag. And so, what she tell you exactly huh? Come on, tell me." Gab urged. Her heart hurt.
"She said that you were being taken advantage of some old man and seemed lost by his charms. We are worried that you might be but we can help you get out of it." Her mother said with pure worry.
Gabrijela laughed with no emotion, "Wow." She said shaking her head with utter disbelief, "Just... Wow. So you would take her word rather than mine?"
"It's not like that," Liljana said quickly.
"It clearly is. She's lost her mind, mum. She is becoming obsessive over me. I am not her friend no longer. It truly hurts to know you took her word than listening to your daughter. Really shows what kind of person you are. I'm glad I'm being fucking kicked out." Gab turned and then ran upstairs to her room. She grabbed her suitcase and began to pack her clothes in. Then her duffle bag for more items as books, chargers and her laptop.
"Gabrijela, don't listen to him. Stay. Let us work this out." Her mother had come up to see her.
"No." Gab shook her head, unable to stop her tears or her sobs. "I'm going to leave. I don't need this shit in my life right now. I really don't and you standing there staring at me as if I am some fucking failure isn't helping either." Gabrijela looked at her.
"Swearing isn't nice," Liljana said, arms crossed.
"Nor is kicking out your daughter which you clearly support. It's cool. I'm glad I've been kicked out. Don't have to be fucking trapped in this shit hole." She shoved as much as she could. She was surprised she had taken well over half her wardrobe.
"Gabrijela-" Her mother started.
"Move." She sauntered past her and headed down the stairs. She grabbed last bits and pieces as well as her car keys and dumped her shit in.
"Gabrijela come on. Don't be like this." Her mother raced out after her.
"Don't try and make me feel bad. This is your fault. Not mine. I feel bad for Tijana living in this house. I hope Tatiana and Leo get out before they're corrupted by your bullshit." Gabrijela did not listen to any more accusations her mother threw at her and she drove off.
Gab drove into the city, messaged Maya that she was using the car spot for their apartment for unknown lengths of time. Maya mentioned they had hidden the key in the walled-off spot if she needed the apartment to herself. She thanked her but she wasn't going to use it. Just needed a place to leave her car without paying stupid fees.
She grabbed her shit out and dragged it to the main street and headed to the hotel where Cillian was staying. It was already dark and she wasn't a fan of walking the streets alone in the city but thankful the hotel was in view.
In the foyer, she sat on a couch and called up Cillian.
"Hey, love. How are you?" Cillian's voice made her instantly better.
"Not okay. I'm in the foyer. Can... You get me? Please?" She asked in a small voice.
"Of course. I'll be there in a moment." He hung up and some minutes went by and he was there walking to her. "What is all this?" He frowned before she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His arms automatically wrapped around her as he held her as she cried into his chest.
When the sobbing subsided, Cillian helped her up to his room with her suitcase and duffle bag. Then they laid back on the bed, her head on his chest and her explaining what had happened.
"God... I am sorry, Gabrijela. I really am. I can't believe they would treat you like this." Cillian was in total shock as to how she could be kicked out. Just for dating someone.
"It's fine. Not your fault. They just can't fathom their daughter dating someone who is twice her age. I really don't care about the age gap, Cillian. I'm just hurt that they couldn't see how I am in love and happy for a change. It's always been their way and no other way." Gab sniffled.
Cillian stroked her hair. He could see her parents point but to kick her out for her decision? Unacceptable. "Parents should always be there." He murmured more like a spoken thought.
"I wish they were, Cillian. God, I can't even imagine now to tell them of the pregnancy." She felt fear shoot through her. There was no way she was going to live in that house ever again.
"We'll do that together if you want." Cillian offered and she looked up.
"You want to?" She cupped his face.
"I'd love to. I want to be there for you and support you. I don't want you to be alone." He placed his hand over hers.
She smiled, "Okay... Well, I guess I'll wait until this cools down before we nail them with another shit storm."
"Not a shit storm. A miracle." He kissed her softly.
After that, she showered and put on a nice dress and he took her out for dinner at a restaurant he had found earlier that day. They ate good food and talked about baby things and when to tell his family as well. They would do it tomorrow morning and Gabbie was very excited. She loved his family to the moon and back.
They walked along the harbour, hand in hand. The night was warm but comfortable, they went to a bar for a bit then headed home to relax in bed and watch a movie together.
Gabrijela was only in her bra and panties as she fell asleep in his arms, despite the day being fucked, she was happy in her lover's arms. She was warm and safe and loved. That was what mattered to her. Cillian being with her.
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