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stevieschrodinger · 1 month

Text

Link to Part One

Link to Part Two

TW mentions of human trafficking, rescue, injury, trauma

Steve locks Eddie in the car which, yeah, okay, it makes Eddie jump a little reflexively at the quiet click of the lock. And it might just be habit, or whatever, because it’s a really nice car.

Or maybe he’s even doing it for Eddie’s safety.

It still feels like he’s been locked in, though, and Eddie finds he’s...really not a fan of how this feels.

Either way, when Steve comes back less than ten minutes later and opens Eddie’s side of the car, Eddie’s still not sure how to feel about it. Suspicion is hard to shake.

Steve kneels right there on the floor of the lot, “swing around,” Eddie does, watching as Steve pulls antiseptic wipes out of the bottom of the bag, opening a packet and lifting Eddie’s foot. Eddie hisses when the wipe makes contact, it’s cold and, even though surely most of the wounds have scabbed by now, it still stings quite a bit, “sorry.” Steve looks up at Eddie earnestly, big eyes and floppy hair and, well, the moles are cute.

And having an Alpha kneel on the floor for him, that’s kind of nice too. Maybe Steve really is that good looking.

He wraps Eddie’s feet in a bandage, some tube bandage over the top, Eddie still slurping on his peanut butter chocolate shake. He’s going to have the absolute worst shit later, he knows it, too much rich food all at once, after a really long time of non at all, but honestly, so worth it.

“When we get home, I’ll set you up in one of the spare rooms, and maybe we can order you some clothes?” Steve pulls the bandage comfortably tight around Eddie’s foot, a nice gauze pad wrapped around the sole for cushioning.

“Errr, I mean, I, before, I was usually a good will kind of shopper, you know? Maybe Target on a good day?”

Steve just blinks at him for a second, before that clearly sinks in, “don’t...don’t think about the money, if that’s what you mean, we can get you some clothes, really, I don’t mind.”

And Eddie’s sure as fuck not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, Steve’s already broke the bank on Eddie, what’s a little more, right?”

Eddie whistles, he can’t help it. Objectively, obviously, he knew Steve was loaded. There’s a difference between knowing that and…seeing it. This is like a fucking mansion. Well, it’s not like a mansion, obviously. It is a mansion.

Automatic electric gates, a drive that’s got to be a half mile long...and lawns. Trees. Land stretching off into the distance.

The house is fucking nice. It’s kind of sprawling...just the garage looks fucking massive on it’s own.

Steve sort of hovers around Eddie as he limps over the threshold, and, yeap, just as nice inside as it is outside. Very sleek and modern, big open spaces, lots of glass. Dark wood and bookcases filled with leather books and big paintings that look impressive but aren’t...well. Eddie’s not a fan, really. Eddie spies a building out the back, also lots of glass...Eddie’s money is on indoor pool.

“Something smells good,” Eddie says, as he limps further into the house, “smells kind of homey.” Which is true, something here smells vaguely relaxing. Kind of...comforting. Safe.

Eddie looks around as he gets further in, and the place is so big it is kind of a walk, it’s...really nice, but also kind of soulless. It doesn’t look lived in at all. And, Eddie frowns, something occurring to him for the very first time. Steve’s a good looking Alpha, and he’s fucking loaded, “will your, erm,” Eddie flounders, “partner, mind me being here?”

Steve laughs, seeing Eddie through to the lounge to sit on the couch, “don’t think I would have been able to play my part today if I were in any kind of serious relationship. Hagan would have known if I was seeing anyone, the press loves that shit.”

And yeah, all of that makes total sense, and Eddie feels kind of stupid for not putting that together. But it...doesn’t really make sense, considering Steve is, still, clearly, very hot and very loaded.

“Okay,” Steve plops a laptop into Eddie’s lap, open to a clothing website. “just open tabs on some stuff you’d like, and then give it back to me when you’re done. You’re going to need some clothes while Hopper tracks down your uncle, okay? I’m going to go and set up a room.”

Eddie’s just sort of rolling with it at this point, so he nods and smiles and then blinks down at a Tom Ford Slim-Fit Button-Down Collar Checked Cotton shirt...that’s nearly seven hundred dollars.

And Eddie would never, in a million fucking years, be caught dead in it. Honestly, he thinks he actually prefers the white nightdress.

Eddie looks at the drop down menu, clicks on ‘cashmere’ for shits and giggles, and then laughs to himself when the very first listing is a black turtle-neck...for over a thousand odd dollars. Fucking rich people are batshit.

Eddie manages to find a drop down that lets him filter out everything over two hundred and fifty dollars, and then he searches by lowest price first. He starts opening tabs, mostly inoffensive lounge wear – a large portion of which is very, very unfortunately beige.

Eddie hears Steve coming before he sees him, “just do it please Carol,” and he sounds...exasperated by whoever Carol is. Steve comes back and takes the laptop. He very very briefly frowns at Eddie over the top of the screen, but it’s over so fast Eddie’s not entirely sure he saw it, “you think you’ll want something more to eat later?”

Eddie did eat his weight in McDonalds a couple of hours ago...but he hasn’t been really full for years, “uhm, yeah, in a bit, maybe?”

“Sure, I’ll see what we have.”

And then Eddie just...sits there. He can’t actually remember the last time he just...sat on a couch. The only place the Omega at the ranch are allowed to sit is either the floor, when they’ve been told to, the table, but only when eating...and probably their beds in the dorm.

Sitting here feels kind of naughty, actually, sitting here, relaxing, comfortable and warm. Eddie touches the lush, velvety feel of the couch, it’s really nice, really soft-“chicken and pasta?” Eddie nearly jumps out of his fucking skin. Like he’s just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Logically, he knows that isn’t the case, but his feet are tingling regardless.

Steve can actually cook, who knew? Well, it might only be a simple dish, browned off chicken chunks in something creamy and mushroomy, sitting on some pasta, but it’s absolutely delicious.

“We should probably get someone to look at your feet tomorrow.”

Eddie shrugs, nearly vibrating with excitement at the sight of garlic bread and trying his best to hide it, “always been fine before.”

“Still, I wouldn’t want them getting infected. Do you want me to tell Hopper anything about your uncle? I presume he will be busy for a little bit but…?”

Eddie swallows but...nods, Steve getting his phone and Hoppers card, “he’s called Wayne Munson, he’s my dads brother. He lives in a trailer park in, uhm, Hawkins. Indiana.”

Steve taps at his phone, “that’s not actually that far, we could...probably drive that, maybe in a day, once you feel up to it. I’ll see what Hopper says, see if he gets back to us tomorrow, I figure we've both had a long day.”

And that sounds...well. Eddie's running out of reasons to be suspicious, to question this, to question Steve. He has a little kernel of hope, real, genuine hope, growing inside him now...that this is true. That he's going to be free. That he's going to see Wayne.

Eddie nods, keeps eating, is thrilled when Steve offers him a beer, nodding happily. Steve withdraws it at the last second, “wait, just how old are you?”

“Errr…twenty one?”

Steve laughs, “try again,” but he does hand over the beer.

“Eighteen. I was there for a couple of years, maybe a bit longer, they got me walking home from school. Pretty sure my parents wouldn’t have, you know, noticed, probably best I don’t go back there, anyway. Quite a few Omega came through in the time that I was, you know, there...”

Steve’s staring off into space though, looking somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder, clearly not listening.“-oh.”

“Errr...Steve, you okay?” Steve looks like his brain has just stalled. Like completely shut down, “Steve, man, you’re freaking me out a bit here.”

Steve frowns, finally showing some life, his fork still literally hanging in air, half way to his mouth, “Tommy Hagan is probably being arrested.”

“I, err...I mean, yeah? I fucking hope he is?”

As Eddie watches, a bit of chicken falls off Steve’s fork and splats onto his plate, “right now, other than me, you, and the FBI...no one knows that. That Tommy’s being arrested, arrested for something fucking terrible.”

“Riiight…”

“He’s being arrested for something he can’t come back from. It’ll got public. His names about to be mud. His stocks are going to tank. Every part of everything Tommy owns is about to go up in flames.” Steve’s fork clangs onto the plate, “I’m so sorry, I have to go to work.”

“I...what?”

Steve’s already picking up his phone, his keys, sliding on his jacket, “help yourself to anything you need, I’ll be back...at some point.” Steve’s already calling someone, “I need you in the office, right now. I want Wheeler, from legal, make sure finance is there, actually, make sure Henderson has availability tomorrow,” Steve comes back from the front door, sliding a business card in front of Eddie, “no, right now, I’m on my way, twenty minutes.”

Eddie looks at the card; it’s Steve’s, has his email, office number and mobile on it, presumably so Eddie can get hold of him. Eddie’s pretty sure he just witnessed the first steps of a hostile take over, or something.

And now he’s in this massive house, all alone.

Link to Part Four

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #omega eddie munson because he's so pretty #alpha steve harrington #my writing

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judithhhh · 2 months

Text

obvious (one-shot)

jude x reader

summary : in which you and your boyfriend, jude, can't seem to stay serious when you're tasked to interview him

( smau at the end!)

becoming a interviewer in the football world had been a blessing for you, helping you find both your dream career and your dream boyfriend. you had met jude when he had just arrived at madrid, you were one of the interviewers present at his unveiling. you had waited for most of the other journalists to leave to come up to jude and the connection between the two of you was immediate. you had tried to ignore the tension lingering but the way he looked at you when he answered your questions made you giggle and blush, leading to the footage being unusable but at least you had gotten yourself a date with the footballer not even a day after. jude and you ended up dating not long after your first date and you were by his side throughout the beginning of his career, watching him from afar as you interviewed other players but never jude himself, after the result of your first "interview" with him you doubted both of your abilities to stay serious and discreet around each other.

your interactions with jude stayed private and you both had no problem with that. that was until your boss had contacted you and practically begged you to bag yourself a interview with the infamous jude bellingham after the next real madrid match. you knew that doing a personal interview with such a great player would get you in your boss's favor, and that's how you ended up begging jude to grant you a few minutes of his time after his next match against girona. your boyfriend had obviously accepted, he was never able to say no to you anyways, leading to you spending the week preparing yourself to act professional infront of the boy you could not help but blush and fold at everything he did. the worst of it was trying to tame jude's natural flirty behavior. one day before his match, you found yourself in bed with him explaining yet again how he had to act infront of the camera.

"you did like a million interviews, you know how to act!" you said to your boyfriend, exasperation showing in your voice

"how am i supposed to act normally when you're infront of me baby, you know i love it when you act all professional too" jude practically whined at you

"if you fuck up my interview jude, i swear i won't talk to you ever again"

"ok, ok ill try"

you looked at him with annoyed eyes forcing him to add to his statement

"i won't try, ill do it i swear"

you choose to believe your man on this, kissing his cheek and cuddling back into him, ready to fall asleep.

the day after, you got ready and headed to the bernabéu, stopping to text jude good luck on his match. you rarely saw him the morning of his match days as he liked to go train a few hours before the whole team. texting him and sometimes calling him had became your way of supporting him the best you could. arriving at the stadium, you sat in the section of the stands reserved for the journalists and excitedly waited for the match to start. you sent a quick pic of yourself to jude to wish he responded that he wished he could see you in the stands with his jersey on, something that was prohibited for interviewers. the whistle blew and not even ten minutes after the real madrid fans were blessed by a amazing goal from vinicius. you were screaming inside, happy to see your boyfriend's team dominate so early in the game but you could barely contain your joy when jude later scored. the game had been madrid's and your phone was now full of pictures and videos of the game, but mostly of your boyfriend and his celebration.

second half had barely started when jude scored again, this time making you actually scream and sit up from your seat, resulting in a few dirty looks from the other journalists around you. the scorer ran towards your section of the stands and did his celebration, this time looking at you directly in the eyes. thankfully, others were too focused on capturing the moments with cameras to notice your loved filled eye contact with the man. unfortunately, the joy this time did not last long as your boyfriend was benched after a injury to his ankle. the rest of the match, you could barely focus on real madrid's victory as you were too busy worrying for the sad looking boy on the bench with a ice pack around his ankle. the anxiety you previously had regarding the interview was now gone, replaced by the need to talk to him and ask him how he was doing even if it was infront of a camera.

the match had just finished and you directly rushed towards jude, before anyone else had the opportunity to talk to him. your colleague, a cameraman, followed close behind, making you groan as you were now unable to freely talk to your man.

"excuse me, jude!" you called out

he turned around and his smile widened when his eyes set on you. he walked, well limped, towards you but kept his distance when he saw the cameraman.

"i wondered if we could get a few words from you"

"yeah of course, ba-" jude stopped himself before the nickname escaped his mouth

you gave him a stern look that had him giggling at you. this was already going not so well

"how do you feel about the outcome of the game?"

he didn't respond for a moment, making you look up at him. you were greeted by the sigh t of jude looking deep into your eyes, way too intimately. you couldn't help but smile at his love smitten behavior.

"jude?"

"oh yeah excuse me. obviously i feel good about it you know, i'm proud of the team and the performance we had during all of the game. happy about my goals too even though i got injured" he spoke in a thick british accent

"two amazing goals you scored huh? you're back on track"

your comment made him smile hard as he looked away scratching his neck, hoping the camera didn't capture how whipped he looked.

"but back to the injury, are you aware of the nature of it?" you asked, trying to mask the concern in your voice

"its just a sprain, nothing to really worry about but i might be out for two weeks"

"a bit unfortunate, but at least it's nothing serious"

"yeah, no need to worry miss"

you let out a giggle at the nickname, making jude laugh too. without noticing, you two fell into a fit of giggles and couldn't stop laughing for a moment. the man was literally folded in half, holding himself up on your shoulder as he failed to regain his composure. you on the other hand, had buried your face in the arm he had set on you. it took a few minutes for you two to calm yourself, hoping that your interaction didn't seem too weird. you decided to end the interview there.

"well i won't hold you up for too long, hope you'll heal soon jude"

"aw you don't have any more questions"

"no that was all"

"well bye miss, have a great day"

he bid his goodbyes to you but his eyes stayed set on yours and his body didn't seem to budge a bit. you held the eye contact for a bit, almost mesmerized by him. you then tapped his shoulder as a goodbye and turned around, walking away from him. you didn't notice the knowing look from your cameraman, as you were certain that you and jude had nailed the interview

the impression that you and jude had been able to hide the real nature of your relationship vanished a few days later when your interview was published. you had expected some comments but not the kind you saw while scrolling on twitter

twitter

messages with jude 🫠

you

*sent a screenshot*

your fans are too smart 😞

jude 🫠

i meannnn

we were kinda obvious

you

because of a certain someone (not me)

jude 🫠

WDYM

you were the one that was looking at me like you wanted to eat me up 😮‍💨

you

false information 🙅‍♀️

anyways, what are we gonna do ab the tweets

jude 🫠

we could just go public yk

you

and ruin my career, i don't think so

jude 🫠

people love those kinds of romance, if it's gonna do smtg to your career is giving u even more attention

you

are u sure ab that jude?

jude 🫠

yes bby trust me

ill post a hard lunch or wtv

you

hardlaunch babe

liked by jude

judebellingham

liked by yourusername, brahim and 1,562 263 others

judebellingham my journalist ❤️‍🔥

view all comments

yourusername my baller xx

my girl x

yourusername am i just a journalist to you

gotta keep it professional innit

yourusername shut up 🥰

jobebellingham cute for once

thanks ig

johnstones still don't know how you bagged her

not everybody scares off every girls like you

user274 we lost him girls

user729 the interview makes way more sense now

user290 ofc he was gonna end up with a baddie 😔

#football #jude bellingham #football imagine #jude bellingham imagine #jude x reader #football x reader #jude bellingham x reader #hey jude :)#football smau #football social media au

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spideyhexx · 4 months

Text

mdni

Coriolanus abandoned his desk, which was strewn with papers. Work that needed to get done as he just stepped into a new political position. It was serious to him, of course it was. But you had come over. You, his best friend since childhood, and while he'd never admit it to your face, he truly missed seeing you after all this time.

It's not that he wanted to go without seeing you, but he buried himself in his work. Right out of the University, Coriolanus' schedule was taken up, day and night. You would hear little from him. He'd stop by for some tea instead of a full lunch, but that was the most you would've been seeing him.

Until this night when you unceremoniously showed up at his doorstep after dinner and Coriolanus simply could not deny you entry. It was clear you had some sort of dinner party, your dress fancier than your usual attire, but you had already discarded your jewelry and makeup and hairpins.

"You can stay, but I need to finish some things up," Coriolanus tells you, gesturing to the small couch in the study as he goes back to his desk. But he doesn't even make it all the way into his plush chair. He grips the back of it and turns to watch you, ever so gracefully sitting on his couch, relaxing, a small glint in your eyes.

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts of taking a break with you and he sits in his chair. Coriolanus probably works for a good ten minutes before he walks over to join you on the couch.

You raise a brow, watching him, "Don't you have to work, politician?"

He laughs, albeit mockingly, there's still a smile on his lips as he plops down on the couch next to you. Coriolanus had taken off his waistcoat, leaving him in a pristine white button down and you dare a look at his arms as he starts rolling the sleeves up.

"I should, but I want to give you my attention," and that smile turns into something darker that you can't yet read.

"Are you getting soft on me?" Coriolanus freezes for just a moment but he regains his composure, leaning back into the couch opposite of you.

"Not at all." You hum at him, shaking your head, "So are you still all cold and mean?"

He scoffs, but he's still smiling. Coriolanus hates that he can't wipe the grin off of his face, but it comes so naturally with you. And the look in your eyes isn't making this any easier. He's been trying to read you since you arrived. You both always did that with one another, eyes searching eyes as you tried to decipher what the other may be thinking.

"Yes, I'm still cold and mean, if that's what you wanna call it," he replies, and he catches the slight shrug you give him.

"Do you not believe me?" He lets out a half chuckle, eyes narrowing as you feel him begin his search into your head. You were prepared for this though.

"I don't." You give him the sweetest smile you can, looking down at your fingers and picking off some of the polish.

Coriolanus cocks his head to the side, his own gaze dropping to your hands for a moment. "Do I need to prove it to you?"

You look back up at him, shrugging, "maybe." Your uninterested look was already starting to ignite a bit of fire within him, but he was in control right now. That's what he tells himself. He looks at your hands again. He knows how cold they always are. It almost makes him want to warm them with his own. They're pretty too, despite your polish being chipped, he knows already that your hands are soft and his mind wanders to how they'd feel and look around his-

You stand, breaking him from his thoughts. Coriolanus watches you walk over to his desk. You lean down a little, eyes skimming over the papers all over his desk.

Coriolanus makes no move to get up, instead just too curious about what you're up to. Your fingers tap the papers, standing in front of his desk, nudging the chair a bit so you can look, "Important work here, hm?"

"Very," he replies and Coriolanus was dying at the urge to get up. He knows you and he knows you've got something up your sleeve but he just can't crack it and it's driving him insane. It's as though his lips are completely numb and he's stuck there on the couch, watching you near his precious work.

You lean over the desk, grabbing one of his pens. Once the cap is off, you lean to write something on one of his papers.

While your eyes aren't on Coriolanus, you hear the scuffle of his shoes as he stands and stalks over to you, grabbing the pen right from your hand.

And you giggle. A fucking giggle comes out of your mouth and Coriolanus doesn't know how to take it.

"I was fixing a spelling error, Mr. Snow." He lets out a huff, his lips parting for a moment before he shakes his head.

"Don't call me that," he mutters, and you raise your brow at him like you're asking for the challenge. It's clear to you that you've struck some cord. You've missed this. It wasn't uncommon for you to annoy Coriolanus to death, but it's been so long and this new him was so easy.

"Why's that, Mr. Snow?"

"You're getting on my last nerve," he mumbles, setting the pen down and haphazardly trying to fix the mess of papers on the desk.

"Am I? Little me getting on your nerves, Mr. Politician?" You don't back down from him, keeping your stance at the front of his desk, him right next to you.

Despite the anger flaring in him already, Coriolanus can't help but smirk. He's no idiot and you've shown your cards now.

"I don't like you," he says and he wishes he could let himself smile at the way you laugh.

"Yes, you do. And you, my friend have made a spelling error on an important government paper," you point your finger to the mistake written on the document.

He grits his teeth, his head down cause he feels like if he looks at you, he'll break his composure. "Don't touch my work again, got it?"

You move your hand from the paper, but lean it against the desk, pressing closer to him, enough that you can see his jaw clench.

"Why? You gonna do something about it, Mr. Snow?" He dares to look at you and your lips play at the prettiest smirk he's ever seen.

"Don't test me," he sneers, taking a step closer to you and you stand up straight to peer up into his eyes.

"Am I doing that? I am so sorry," you say, but you know it's not genuine and so does Coriolanus. He can't even speak as he studies your features and the way you never break his eye contact. It scared him that you were never terrified of him.

"Cat got your tongue?" Coriolanus grabs your wrist and tugs you to stand closer to him, you with his desk behind you and his jaw clenched so tight, you were sure he was grinding his teeth.

"So you got some bite? How scary," you mock and you feel his grip on your wrist tighten. His hand was warm, but rough, holding onto you like he really wouldn't ever let you go.

"You're a fucking brat," he scolds you, and he thinks he's holding your wrist this tight more for his own sanity than to keep you in line.

"You like that I'm a brat," your voice drops to a whisper, almost surprising him but Coriolanus does not want to give in to your little game.

"You know I can shut you up, right?" He looms over you, shifting on his feet, clearly trying to intimidate you, but you haven't let yourself falter. Even though he's so close to you.

"Oh, do please shut me up, Mr. Snow. Who knows, maybe if you don't, I'll tell some of our...peers about how loud you are when you jerk off."

Knowing this was coming out of nowhere for Coriolanus, you still give him your usual smile as his cheeks redden and his grip on your wrist loosens for a mere moment. "H-How do you k-know-"

"I came by the other day. For tea. I suppose I came over...too early," you whisper to him, standing taller, your chest almost pressed to his if it weren't for him gripping your wrist in front of you. "You were quite loud, Coriolanus. And it was just you! By yourself! Moaning about wanting pussy so bad. It's a bit funny isn't it?"

"You wouldn't embarrass me like that," he mumbles, any sense of domineering he originally felt was diminishing and he hated it. He hated it so much.

"Would I?" You tilt your head slightly to the side and Coriolanus really isn't sure if you would. He racks his brain to find something to say, something to catch you off your guard.

"I could bend you over this desk, would that shut you up?" Your smile grows and he sighs in frustration immediately recognizing he failed again to crack you.

"Would that shut my mouth up?" You tried to lay it out for him and you knew he must have been on the same wavelength as you, but it was imperative to hear it from him in his beautiful voice.

"If I kissed you, you would shut up," he finally says and he returns a smirk as his mind drifts to the feeling of your lips on his. Coriolanus watches them part to say something.

"Perhaps. Yes." But he makes no move to do it. It's quite frustrating. Watching him stand so close you can almost feel the heat between his thighs and his grip on your wrist tightening even more. You would not give in and make the first move to kiss him or pull him closer. But he was doing nothing. He feels you search his eyes.

"If you don't shut me up, I suppose I can embarrass you in front of the Capitol elite with your masturbation habits, but I will say-"

His lips lock onto yours before you can finish the sentence, but you aren't one to complain now. Coriolanus let go of your wrist to grab your hips. His lips were chapped, rough against your own but it felt so unreal you couldn't stop. He presses his body against yours completely, almost begging you to jump on his desk, which you do, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

Coriolanus pushes you tight against him so you can feel the strain of the bulge in his pants. He hates the way you smile into the kiss at this. Your hands push up into his hair and although it was so neat beforehand, you loved the fact you were completely messing it up now as his tongue licks at your lip, his teeth biting down on the skin.

His eyes drip with a dark desire you've never seen from Coriolanus as he pulls away, teeth tugging on your lip once more before pulling away from the kiss. You two stare at each other for a few moments, breathing heavily. His clothed hard cock presses to your clothed heat and you can feel the wetness now that you're sitting atop the desk.

Coriolanus cannot stop looking at you, he lets go of your hip to fist and then flexes his fingers before he grabs you again, harder than before, which makes you gasp. He chuckles, leaning closer to nip at your bottom lip again, "Cat got your tongue?"

You roll your eyes at him and Coriolanus vows to himself to make you do that at least ten times a day, "Can you keep shutting me up?"

Coriolanus' mouth finds itself back on yours in an instant.

let's chat about coryo, here :)

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow drabble #coryo x you #coryo x reader #coryo smut #coriolanus smut

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silent-stories · 10 months

Text

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader (reader is called "sweetheart" but there are no pronouns)

Summary: three times Eddie called you "sweetheart"

Warnings: blood, angst, fluff, cutting animals in biology class.

The first time he called you by that petname, you were both in class, during a slightly unusual biology lesson.

Eddie entered the classroom as if the lesson hadn't started ten minutes earlier and greeted the teacher with a nod and a smirk, as if he were a friend of hers.

In response the teacher rolled her eyes and continued to explain how you were supposed to open and analyze the different organs of the frogs in front of you.

Eddie scanned the class for a moment before his gaze fell on the only open seat that day, which happened to be the one next to you.

He plopped down on the chair with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest before glancing at the dead animal on the desk in front of him with a disgusted face that made you chuckle.

"What?" He asked harshly without even turning towards you, as he took off his leather jacket and leaned it against the back of his chair.

The spring light that filtered through the windows of the classroom illuminated his skin and, observing him closely as you have never done before, you noticed for the first time that there were many small freckles on his nose and that the bat tattoo on his arm wasn't as perfect as it looked but faded and uneven.

"Is the cult leader disgusted by a little dead animal?" You laughed.

"Hellfire is not a cult." He grunted.

"Oh, I know." You chuckled and he finally looked up at you when he realized you were just joking and not remotely serious.

A smirk appeared on his lips just before the teacher called you back for being distracted and chatting and he went back to staring at the frog.

"And that's what you have to do with its stomach." She explained by taking a small knife in her hand and opening the animal. "If you think you can't do it, you can ask a classmate for help. I'll give you a few minutes and then I'll explain what you have to do with its heart, okay?"

In the following moments, you worked on your from like the rest of the class but out of the corner of your eye you couldn't help but keep following the hesitant movements of Eddie who, at that point you were sure, he had never held a knife except to cut his lunch.

It was so weird to think that the boy the whole school thought made sacrifices in his cult couldn't even cut a frog's stomach.

"Eddie."

"Mh?" He suddenly lifted his head, some curls falling over his face.

"Do you want me to... open your frog?"

Eddie stared at you for a moment and then against your expectation he burst out laughing with his head thrown back and some cute dimples springing up his cheeks. "Please, do it, sweetheart. I think I'm going to throw up."

You shook your head with a half smile on your lips before grabbing his frog and using your knife on its stomach, feeling his gaze on you as you did.

The nickname he used had a strange effect on you that you couldn't quite explain but you felt something different for the first time in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie, on the other hand, was already thinking he was head over heels for you.

The second time it happened at the Hideout, after months of you starting to consider Eddie your friend and when he saw you opening the door of the bar he thought he was hallucinating but no, he wasn't on drugs.

"Hey, I...I didn't think you were actually going to come."

"Well, I told you I would come." You laughed as you sat down on a stool at the bar as Eddie nodded to Gareth, as if to tell him he'd be joining the rest of the band soon.

"Well, I thought you were joking or something like that." He said scratching the back of his head.

"Why would I to do that?" You chuckled.

"I don't know... people do that to me a lot. Nevermind, you look really good tonight by the way. Like... yeah, really good." As always, when he wanted to pay you a simple compliment, he lost the ability to formulate a sentence with any sense.

A voice from the stage caught your attention. "Edward Munson, could you please get your ass here and stop trying to flirt? You are terrible at it, by the way." Gareth announced into the microphone.

You laughed, hiding your face in your hands for a moment in embarrassment. "Thanks. I think... I think you should go."

"Disgusting!" Gareth commented into the mic, his eyes fixed on you, making some people laugh around the not too crowded local.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "See you later, okay Sweetheart?"

You nodded but when he had already turned away you spoke again. "You look good with eyeliner by the way."

The only comment received was a "bleah!" coming from Gareth.

Eddie hoped you didn't notice how much he blushed as he went on the stage.

The third time happened after the Upside Down, after Master of Puppets, after the demobats, after the screams, the tears and the blood.

The room was quiet. Too quiet. Painfully quiet. You were scared that if either of you said something, you would burst into tears.

There were blood stains on the floor and in the sink.

Eddie was sitting on your bathroom counter, upper body bare before you, and covered in wounds. You stood in front of him, carefully tending to each bruise, cut, and bite that he’d gotten.

Even at that moment, knowing that he was okay, and would recover, you were riddled with fear. You couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened, and how you had been only moments away from loosinf him, from finding him dead.

With horrible images forming in your mind, your hands tremble as you continue wiping the blood off of his skin, when he hissed in pain and flinched away from you, you quickly retracted your hand.

“I'm sorry.” You didn’t want to whisper, but you couldn’t seem to speak any louder, your voice strained and every word seemed to physically hurt to.

“It's okay.” Eddie assured you, offering a small smile. You just nodded slowly, then turn on the faucet, rinsing the bloodied washcloth with warm water just as you’d done once already.

Tears formed in your eyes, and you founf it harder and harder to hold them back by the second. As you turned of the water and began to wring out the wash cloth, you looked at Eddie. That was you broke, and the tears spilled from your eyes.

He leant his head against yours, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. “Hey, talk to me." He murmured gently rubbing your back with his hand.

You were almost shaking, trying to gather yourself enough to speak.

"I don’t want to lose you," you confessed, pausing to inhale shakily. “I was so fucking scared when you cut the rope. I mean, I really felt sick, Eddie. I don’t know what I would have done if we didn’t get to you in time and God, i just..." you paused, sighing. “I love you so fucking much,” you murmured, other tears beginning to fall from your eyes.

Eddie stayed quiet for a moment, processing your words. However, when he felt your tears on his skin, he gently cupped your cheeks to make you look at him. “you didn’t lose me, though,” he assured you, his voice also shaking now. “I'm right here, aren’t I?” He asked, pressing his forehead against yours. Slowly, you nodded.

That was the moment you both realized how close you were to each other, how little space there was between your mouths and that you wanted that space to be even smaller, to disappear.

"Sweetheart." He breathed.

This time it was almost like a warning, it was almost like he was telling you not to. Like he knew being with him was some sort of a curse and he didn't want you to go through what he's been through in his life. Like he was afraid that if you kissed him at that moment then it would be too late to tell you to turn your back and run as far away from him as possible, that he only brought trouble and nothing good ever came with him.

"Eddie, I love you." You repeated looking into his eyes. His dark and still fearful pupils seemed to tell you "don't do it".

But his heart said something else. And his heart always chose you.

"I love you too."

He kissed you first.

Or at least, that's what he believed but he wasn't very sure in reality. It was as if he understood that you weren't afraid to be with him at the same time that you understood that he wanted you too and you attracted each other's like magnets.

His lips were soft, more than you expected or ever imagined but he also tasted like blood.

A flavor that shouldn't have been there but that didn't make you pull back.

You cupped the back of Eddie's neck and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You will be okay. We will be okay." You whispered when you broke kiss in need of air.

He stayed silent for a brief moment. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfictioneddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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harlowhockeystick · 3 months

Note

wordless apology being accepted

pretty pls need this with sidney, can be coach!sidney or not, whatever you wanna do 💞

february prompts | coach!sidney x fem!reader

remember how y'all said you wanted the angst....yeah...

"hey, ryan's doing great in practice. he is the best kid a coach could ask for, really," sidney gave his players parents praise in the stands. it was thirty minutes until puck drop. occasionally before games sidney would go up in the bleachers and talk to parents while he could. he wanted to keep the relationship with his player's parent's strong, knowing that he was for their kids just as much as they were.

he sat next to y/n right before going back down to the bench on the ice. his hand subtly rested on her thigh as he listened to you talk about all you did that day, the parent meetings after class. he wished that he had time to actually talk to her, had time to sit with y/n and hear her go into more detail. but mid season he has to find a little bit of time to sit with her where he can.

"carter's getting better every day. i talked to the coach from arizona state today, he called wanting to know about him." sidney said, taking some of the popcorn she held in her hand. whipping her head to make eye contact she felt a few butterflies fluttering about in her stomach, college coaches already?

"but he's a freshman? are they even allowed to reach out when they're freshmen?" those were the questions that y/n was able to put words to, but in her head she had a thousand and one roaming about.

"all i told him was that he's everything a good program needs, he'll only get better with time, but to give me a call in a couple more years. coaches can go look and scout players as young as they want, but typically they don't get offered until they're a junior," sidney explained, "but if they're good...which carter is, then yeah. they can call, i got calls when i was in the eighth grade."

y/n felt intimidated, she isn't ready for conversations with college coaches and she knows carter isn't either. y/n just wants carter to enjoy the innocence of it all before dollar signs get thrown in his face.

"ten minute mark, i better get down there. want me to meet you guys at the restaurant?" she nodded her head and gave him a kiss on the cheek for good luck. by now parents had put two and two together of y/n and sindey's relationship. she had been approached and so has sidney, but for the most part it's been supportive. a few rumors here and there, but how can they complain when their son has the best coach in the country?

sidney starts to walk down the steps and takes a second to get somewhat of an outside perspective on warmups. hands in his pants pocket watching the opposing team but his thoughts were interrupted when a man approached him.

"i have a, uh, question," the man seemed nervous. he was stuttering over his words, not in a drunk way but he was extremely anxious over something. "can you maybe tell me," he took a breath before moving on, "which one my son is?"

sidney was taken back- no, he was floored. is this a joke? is this man serious?

"are you joking with me man?" sidney asked, taking a half step back to face the mans body with his. but from the way sidney looked in his eyes, they were nearly glossed over with fear and intimidation. the man shook his head as he looked on the ice again.

"i've been out of his life, i haven't been a good man and i'll be the first to admit that but, please i gotta start somewhere. saw his picture in the paper and i recognized him from the letters and stuff my mom sends me- his name's carter."

sidney pulled his lip between his teeth. he felt his leg start to shake and his stomach coil from anger, his hands grew sweaty as he balled them up in fists. he looked this man, this small weak man in the eye, he leaned into his level, "your son is number eighty in black. now get the fuck out of my arena before i have you kicked out, you fuckin-"

before sidney could say what he wanted to he felt y/n's hands on his chest pushing him back, "go to the bench, i'll handle him."

sidney looked down at her then back at the man behind y/n. he was still raging with anger on the inside, but did as told and walked down to the bench. when he got down there he watched as she talked to him a little bit before walking him out of the arena.

"what the hell are you doing here, john?" y/n finally asked as they stood out in the cold. she had kept in vague contact with john, trying since they divorced when carter was five to get him to come by at least once. for a birthday, christmas, or even an easter. but he never did.

occasionally he would send a gift card or a card with some cash, but y/n wasn't fully convinced it was him. she had her suspicions that his mother did it. she was involved in her grandson's life; she repeatedly apologized for her son's actions and for his absence. she was just as disappointed as anyone else was.

"'cause i feel horrible, y/n." was all he could say. it was all he had been thinking the past year. "i...i started going to therapy, and i've been trying to get the courage over a year and i just...i wanna be involved. i wanna be there, i wanna get to know my son."

"well you should've thought about that before you walked out on me and your son with your secretary, john. you should have thought about that before you chose a woman who was barely twenty years old over your wife and your child, you had the chance but you lost it."

y/n had so much more to say. she had thought for a long time what she would say if she got the chance. she often rehearsed in her head all that she would say, all that she would yell and scream at john for. she thought about all of it.

"y/n just give me a chance!" john shouted, taking a step closer to y/n not caring about the people who were walking past.

"no. it's not my chance to give. if carter wants to meet up with you then i'll get with your mom, but i could care less. to me you're a fucking loser, john." she felt tears begin to fall down her cheeks as she looked the man she loathed in the eyes for the first time since she last saw him after the divorce was finalized ten years ago.

"leave, just leave. this isn't how carter would want to see you for the first time in ten years anyway," john ducked his head and walked toward the parking lot. y/n turned and went back into the arena to where she was sitting.

a few parents asked her if she was okay, those who knew her and carter's story giving her a hug and a pat on the back. she was appreciative of those around her who supported her and her son.

y/n could barely focus on the game that had already started when she sat back down, her perspective and head space too foggy to even comprehend the game unfolding before her. all she could do was think about the worst days of her life replaying over and over in her head. she was replaying the minute she found out about john's affair, when she packed up her and carter's things and went to her parents house for the time being. she was replaying the divorce meetings, the arguments, the tears.

she was replaying having to explain to her five year old son where his dad went and why he wasn't going to be at home anymore. y/n hadn't gone into full detail with sidney about all of this yet. their relationship was just a few months old and she wanted to protect carter as much as she could. y/n knows and trusts that sidney was and is a good man, but she wants carter to tell what he wants to, not tell for him.

but now she will probably have to.

she went ahead and sat in sidney's office, she walked down there a few minutes before the last period ended. she knew that carter had a couple of points on the board, but y/n couldn't remember how he got them. her mind was full of remembering the worst years of her life with her ex husband.

she sat in a chair next to his desk, silently staring at the mess of practice plans, rosters, and scheduling papers strung along his desk. he walked in and shut the door behind him with a thud, plopping his game folder down on his desk. he didn't sit down, he stood with his hands in his pockets looking down at her as she remained sitting.

"you okay?" he asked. she could tell that he was tense, she couldn't figure out why though. they had won the game, the boys played well, and he didn't have anything to worry about. why was he so tense?

y/n nodded her head in response.

"i'll uh, make sure that he doesn't come to another game again." sidney sat down in his chair, resting his chin on his hand. there was an awkward tension in the room. sidney didn't know much about her past marriage, she didn't reveal too much to him. but now he had more questions than ever, he wanted to ask but it was clear she wanted nothing but to keep everything bottled at the moment.

"he seemed like a dick, don't know why anyone would want to marry him." sidney muttered, moving a few things around his desk. but y/n heard him loud and clear.

"what did you just say?" she asked, speaking for the first time since he walked into his office. oh no. he registered what he said, he didn't think before he spoke. he just let his thoughts flow freely off his tongue, shoulda held that one in.

"i- i didn't mean it, y/n i-"

"no, you think i don't regret being married to a man like that? one who was a complete horror of a man? who cheated, who left his wife and child? do you think i'm not embarrassed?" y/n felt tears brim her eyes and she stood up in front of him.

"y/n you know that's not what i meant," he stood up with her and walked around the desk. he put his hands on her shoulders but she slapped them away walking toward the door. she quickly opened it and headed toward the stairs. he thought about running after her but he didn't want to cause a scene. walking back into his office and closing the door he took a spare hockey stick that sat in the corner of the small space and smashed it as hard as he could against the wall, solving his anger in just that moment.

he fucked up.

sidney saw a text from carter which had him gathering his keys and putting shoes on his feet.

hey mom hasn't stopped crying since we got home, you know something i don't?

sidney picked up a to-go order on the way to her house, he knew that she wouldn't have eaten anything since leaving the arena. when sidney walked into her house he saw carter sitting at the dinner table eating a bowl of soup watching youtube videos on his laptop. "everything okay?" sidney asked, dumb question.

"i don't know, when i got in the car she was crying. i asked what was wrong and she just shook her head, i thought you guys broke up or something. did you?" carter asked, pausing the video.

"no, we didn't. it's not my place to tell you what happened, but i'll go talk to her." sidney patted carter on the back and walked toward the back master bedroom. he softly knocked on the door, he tried turning the doorknob but she had it locked. "y/n?" he softly asked, knocking again.

he heard sniffles and light footsteps across the wooden door. she unlocked the door and opened it. his heart softened at the sight, her eyes were puffy and her lips were chapped, she wore soft clothes.

walking back to her bed she got in it, pulling the covers over her legs. sidney sat at the foot of her bed and handed the greasy paper sack to her, his form of an apology in that moment. she took the bag and looked inside, a little grin coming on her lips as she saw the bag was full of fries.

she ate the fries in silence, her brain is dull and her head is hurting from crying for two hours straight. sidney sat on the bed with his hand on her leg, just hoping she feels comforted by his presence. he thinks she is, since she didn't take the bag of fries and kick him out.

she sat up, setting the now empty bag on her bedside table, leaned forward to take his hand in hers. sidney scooted closer to her on the bed when she folded her legs. then she gave him a kiss on the cheek, accepting his apology that came in the form of fries.

"i'm sorry for what i said y/n," he whispered again, pressing his forehead against hers. "it slipped out, i shouldn't have said it, i didn't even mean it i-"

"shh, you're forgiven sidney." y/n placed both hands on either side of his face, keeping her forehead against his. she sniffled and sidney parted for a moment, pressing his lips against her soft skin, taking both of her hands in his.

"you don't have to tell me anything about your marriage right now, but i promise, you say the word and i will make sure that he never steps foot anywhere near you or carter again." he tucked some hair behind her ears and kissed the top of her hands.

y/n shook her head, "you don't have to do that." she scooted back toward the pillows that leaned against the headboard, sidney moved on the bed to sit next to her. he put his arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head while she laced her fingers with his.

she told him everything that happened in her marriage; she told him about the way john would speak to her in such degrading ways, how john never really made efforts to go to carters special events, how he would make excuses and say things he's in preschool how special could it be? she explained how she found out about john's affair and the messy divorce. right after the divorce john left the state and she never heard from him until five years later. y/n explained how john's mom still keeps in contact with herself and carter, and that she sends john letters and cards with pictures of carter.

sidney felt himself boiling with anger inside, how could someone be that bad of a person? why would anyone want to do such a thing?

"this was the first time in...years that i had seen him in person and it just brought back, everything." tears began to flow through once more and sidney wrapped both arms around her and pulled her in as close as she could. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

#my asks #j's writing #coach!sidney #sidney crosby #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby blurb #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #it's not february yet but im still posting this

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heyitsme1040 · 3 months

Note

Hey bestie! I just wanted to say that I love your work and the way you write Steve Harrington. Idk if you have something like this yet, but could you write something where both reader and Steve are super busy, always on opposite schedules. They are both getting kind of sick of it/sad about it until Steve does something to surprise reader :)

I hope you have a lovely day and that your writers block goes away :)

More Certain than Ever [s.h]

summary : This past month you haven’t had any time with your boyfriend. You were both used to being busy, but this was different. Finally no longer able to take it anymore, you quit your job. When Steve hears about it, he decides to ask you a serious question sooner than he planned to.

pairings : Steve Harrington x Reader

warnings : None, just tooth rotting domestic fluff. Reader uses she/her pronouns. No use of Y/N. Dialogue heavy. Kind of dual POV. (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 2,100

AO3 (x)

a/n : Thank you so much for the request! I rewrote this like three times and edited it twice, so that’s why it took a week to post.

This past month was horrible. Your manager at the movie theater had fired the girl you were usually scheduled with, so now your shifts were twice as long. Used to, you had a six hour shift early in the morning. Halfway through your shift was when Jennifer would clock in for the start of the afternoon. You'd get off at two while she worked the slow half of the evening alone. Now, however, you were handling your usual shift as well as Jennifer's all alone. Busy working from eight to eight five days a week, you were overwhelmed. You were doing too much for one person to handle at work, beyond tired when you came home, and missing your boyfriend.

Usually you'd go to Family Video when you got off work to visit Steve on his lunch break. His schedule was less consistent than yours, but the two of you always found a way to have time to see each other. Except now that Jennifer is gone, the two of you were struggling to spend time together. Even your days off weren't lining up. When you weren't working, you were busy cleaning your apartment, trying to catch up on both chores and sleep. You were upset that you never had time to be with Steve. The two of you were trying to find ways around your conflicting schedules.

Once home, you'd eat something simple that required minimal effort before showering. Just as you finish getting into bed, the phone you'd moved into your room would ring. You'd quickly answer, mumbling a happy greeting before being overcome by a yawn. You and Steve would talk for a bit, with you mainly managing to stay awake for twenty minutes listening to Steve's voice telling you about his day at work. Managing to say a quiet 'love you’ before fully falling asleep was an accomplishment. Come morning, you'd hear Steve's steady breaths coming down the line as your alarm was beeping. You'd wish him a good day before returning your receiver to its cradle.

Feeling just as tired as when you went to bed, you got ready for work and left for your shift. You were hating how this job had begun to make you feel. It was the start of a new week. A week to be filled with twelve hour days, an hour both to and from the theater, two hours to try and relax at home, and a restless night's sleep before repeating everything the next day? It was crushing you. You felt like if one more thing happened, you'd simply fall apart.

"You're here!” Your manager exclaimed. "I need to talk to you.”

You gave your best customer-service smile, "Sure thing, what do you need?”

“Well, I need to adjust your hours.”

You raised your brows, surprised by what you just heard. "Okay?”

"Perfect! So for a few days you'll be coming in at six, and you'll also need to stay until ten so that I–”

"No.” You bluntly interrupt while reaching for your name tag.

Your manager’s friendly demeanor instantly faded away. "No?”

“No,” you hand her your name tag. "I quit.”

"You can't quit. I'll accept a two weeks, but–”

"That's not necessary. I quit,” you turn on your heel and walk out.

Hearing your manager shouting the start of many different sentences after you was satisfying. Walking through the doors, knowing you’d never return as anything other than a customer, was satisfying. You were excited and unsure about what to do now that you finally had some time to yourself again. With a smile, you began heading toward Family Video.

The bell rang as you opened the door, Robin’s hair popping up above a shelf of movies as she stood, greeting you. You walked toward her, excited to see your friend.

“Hi,” you said as you turned the corner of the aisle.

“I thought you had to work, what are you doing here?” She exclaimed while pulling you into a tight hug.

Your excited laughter slipped out, “I sort of did something, and now I’m no longer working at the movies.”

“What happened?” Robin gasped, pulling you to sit behind the counter with her.

You explained what happened this morning while she began the process of rewinding tapes. The more you spoke, the more Robin commented about how ridiculous your old manager was. You knew the way you were being treated at the movies since Jennifer was fired wasn’t great, but you didn’t realize just how bad things had gotten until you were explaining it.

“With how long I’ve been working twice as many hours I have some time before I absolutely need to be hired. I’ll be able to apply to some jobs while being able to actually wait to hear back,” you thought aloud. “I also just paid my rent for the month, so I don’t have to worry about that either right now.”

"Oh!” Robin quickly stood. "Keith just put a sign up, we're hiring! You could work here!”

“You think? I feel like I should mention it to Steve at least.”

Robin grabbed your shoulders and shook you slightly, “He would love it! He's been so mopey this entire month. He misses you, and he hated how overworked you've been. We'll both tell Keith how good a worker you are, and that you literally quit working at the movies. There's no way you wouldn't get it!” She rambled excitedly.

"Okay,” you put a hand up. "I'll fill out an application, and I can bring it up to Steve later today.”

Robin clapped, grabbing the clipboard of application forms.

Steve tripped over his own feet while rushing out his house. He slammed the car door closed, cringing at how rough he was being on his baby. He had to ignore the awful feeling slamming the door caused as he was late to his shift. He was pushing the speed limit his entire drive to Family Video, prepared to apologize profusely to Robin. Only slightly haphazard in his parking, Steve shrugged on his vest while entering.

"I'm sorry,” he says while heading to the back to clock in. "My alarm clock died.”

Robin waved away his concern, "It's fine.”

"Like it's plugged in, but not on–wait. What do you mean it's fine?”

"I mean it's fine. Quiet morning, your girlfriend came in looking for you, she filled out an application, she left after a while, and the tape rewinder broke again.”

Steve stood still, trying to process everything Robin just said. "She came by? Is she okay? What happened?”

Guiding Steve to sit down, Robin rubbed his shoulder, "She's fine. Everything's alright. She quit the theater, and I suggested she apply here. She's going to talk to you about it, not wanting to step on your toes. I got her to apply anyway, then we hung out for like twenty minutes. She said she was going to head home and ‘sleep until there's no more movies.’”

"She always hated working there,” Steve mumbled.

"Yeah?”

Nodding, a soft smile creeps up. "She's not a fan of most new movies. And she hates popcorn. But she liked seeing how excited people would get after watching a movie.”

"She's a good one," Robin nudges his side.

Steve nodded, thinking. He was getting off early today. He could go see you after so much of your lives not lining up the way it used to.

Steve patted his pockets, making sure he had everything before grabbing the brown bag from the back seat. He took the stairs up to your apartment two at a time. Biting his lip, he knocked on your door. He heard a banging noise before your muffled shout that you were coming. His heart melted as the door opened, revealing a sleepy sight. Your hair was messier than you ever let him see, his sweatshirt was engulfing your frame, and your sleep shorts barely peeked out from the bottom of the sweatshirt. The surprise on your face made him chuckle as a wave of pink slowly flooded your cheeks.

“I brought lunch,” Steve says in a daze, focused on your sleepy appearance.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him into your apartment. You set the bag on the coffee table before hugging him. Feeling your arms around him pulled Steve from his stupor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, gently swaying you both side to side.

“I've missed you,” Steve whispers.

“I missed you, too. How are you?” You pull back slightly to look at him closer. “You seem tired.”

“So do you,” Steve counters.

He watches as you nod, gesturing to the couch. “I couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way to bed after double checking I locked the door.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “I’d try but it just wasn't happening. So I listened to your breaths. Eventually it would allow me to sleep, knowing you were right there and safe. But my alarm didn't go off today, so I was late. Robin told me how I had just missed you once I finally clocked in.”

You walked to the couch, pulling Steve to sit beside you. He tugged you into his side, leaning back against the couch. You curled into him with a hum.

“I quit today,” you state. “Finally.”

Steve nods, “So I hear. And you applied at Family Video. What happened?”

Your shrug feels stiff against Steve's side. “I just walked in, hadn't even clocked in yet, when I was being told I was getting more hours. I was sick of it, and I just quit. I didn't even let her say anything after that really. She tried to tell me I couldn't quit, that it was for a few days, but I was done. Last time something was for a few days put me at twice my hours for the month. So I walked out as she tried to make it be my two weeks.”

Steve squeezes you tighter against his side. “I’m proud you quit. I've been worried about you.”

“I know, and I'm sorry. And I applied at Family Video when I came to see you, but it was just Robin and she talked me into it. I mean, I like the idea of us working together but don't want to be too much.”

“You could never be too much. In fact,” Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, “I have an idea.” He places the box into your lap. “I know it's only been six months, and this past one has only been tired phone calls, but I want you to move in with me. I was going crazy without seeing you this entire month, and I think Robin’s tired of me complaining about how much I miss you.”

“Yes,” you kiss him. “I would love to live with you.”

Steve held you close, kissing you passionately. When you pulled away for air a yawn escaped. Steve stood, holding a hand out to help you up.

“C'mon, I think we need to finish that nap,” Steve smiled.

You weakly protest as he pulls you up. "But the food, and we need to figure everything out, then there's–”

��Absolutely nothing that can't wait,” Steve promised while guiding you to bed. "We can eat when we wake up. We can share my room, or you can choose a room. Your lease here has been month-to-month since your original twelve-month agreement came to term. And I would love to work with you, you're more qualified than I am. Plus, Robin really wants you there too.”

You lay down, facing Steve. Your eyes scan his face intensely, trying to find any doubt. He looks sure. You think about how miserable you've been the past month. Knowing Steve felt much the same was reassuring. You'd never felt as comfortable nor certain about anything or anyone the way you do with Steve.

"Are you sure?” You timidly ask.

Steve cups your cheeks, holding your gaze. “I've never been more certain about anything.”

"Same here," you admit. "It's a plan. Sounds like you've thought about everything.”

Steve's cheeks flushed, “I was going to ask in a few months, but this past month made me want to ask you sooner. I was going to wait until you were off Friday, but then today happened. And it seemed perfect.”

You smiled, knowing how deeply Steve feels. “What else have you thought about?”

"Well…”

You and Steve fell asleep to plans of the future and many promises each of you wanted to fulfill together.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

#fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fanfic blog #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction requests #request #domestic fluff #fluff

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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years

Text

Like You’d Get Your Knuckles Bloody For Me

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Reader

Requested by @natashasera : Arvin always thought you wouldn’t hurt a fly but has to clean you up one day after you get into a fight

Masterlist

“Hold on a minute, Arvin. My friend is coming.” Lenora said as she climbed into her brothers car.

“Friend? What friend?”

“It’s just Y/n.”

“I never heard that name before.” Arvin frowned.

“She’s a new friend. And you don’t I don’t make a lot of em so you better be nice to her.” Lenora warned.

“I will.” Arvin held up his hands in defense.

“There she is. Act normal.” Lenora ordered as you came out of the school.

“I said I would.” Arvin rolled his eyes and looked out the window to see who Lenora was looking at. When he saw you walking towards his car, he did a double take.

“That’s your friend?”

“Yeah. Why?” Lenora asked as Arvin got out of the car. “Where are you going?“

Arvin practically ran around the car, tripping over his feet as he went. He opened the back door for you just as you reached the car.

“Let me get that for you, sweetheart.” He smiled and stepped to the side.

“Oh. Thank you.“ You smiled in surprise.

“I’m Arvin.” He said and held out his hand.

“I’m Y/n. Hope you don’t mind an extra passenger in your car.” You replied as you shook his hand.

“Don’t mind at all. Bout time my backseats saw a little action.”

“Oh?“ You raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Arvin said quickly. “Lenora just always sits in the front seat.”

“I figured.” You chuckled and got into the car. Arvin shut his eyes in embarrassment before climbing back into the drivers seat.

“I told you be normal.” Lenora whispered harshly.

“I am!” He whispered back.

“No you’re not!”

“Lenora, did you catch what Mrs. Harper said about the arithmetic homework? I couldn’t hear her.” You asked from the backseat.

“She said she just have to do questions one through ten.” Lenora answered as Arvin began to drive away.

“Okay. Wanna do em together?” Lenora asked as she turned around in her seat.

“Yeah. Let’s do em together.”

“Why don’t you do five and Y/n do five and then you just copy each other’s answers?” Arvin suggested.

“We can’t do that.” You laughed like it was ridiculous to even suggest.

“Why not?” Arvin wondered.

“Because thats cheating.”

Arvin looked at you in the rearview mirror to see if you were being serious and smiled when he saw that you were. He was always a bad student and found it endearing that you were a good one.

“It’s hardly cheating.” Arvin shrugged. “You’re still doing half the questions. And you were gonna do em together anyway.”

“Arvin.” Lenora hissed and hit his arm.

“What? I’m just saying.”

“Stop it.” She whispered and flicked her eyes towards you in the backseat. She thought Arvin was embarrassing her, but you were actually enjoying the conversation.

“For your information, Arvin, I do not cheat. Not even hardly.” You said as you playfully smiled at him in the rearview mirror.

“Wow. You must be a goody two shoes then, huh?” Arvin asked you.

“Arvin.” Lenora said warningly.

“So what if I am?” You asked as you looked at him through your eyelashes.

“Nothings wrong with that.” Arvin shrugged. “Just can’t say the same for myself.”

“Arvin got in a lot of fights at school.” Lenora spoke up to change the subject.

“Did you?” You laughed in surprise.

“Only when something was worth fighting for.” Arvin smirked at you in the mirror.

“Did you always win?” You asked him.

“I won the ones that mattered.”

“Interesting.” You said as you held eye contact with each other in the mirror. Lenora looked back and forth between the two of you and gagged a little.

“We’re here. Let’s go, Y/n.” She said as Arvin pulled up to the house. Lenora immediately got out of the car and opened your door for you before Arvin got a chance.

“Thanks for the ride, Arvin.” You called as Lenora pulled you by the hand towards her house.

“Anytime.” He shouted back. He went in the house shortly after the two of you did but Lenora had already taken you to her room. He went on with his day and did his chores around the house but he could not stop thinking about you. He knew it was wrong to have feelings for his sisters friend, but you were making it hard not to. He was thinking of how to get to know you better when he heard a scream from Lenora’s room. He immediately ran to her room and burst through the door.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked his sister.

“There’s a rat!” Lenora screamed.

“A rat?” Arvin asked just as the creature ran across the room.

“AHHH!” Lenora screamed again. “Arvin, kill it.”

“Where did it go?” He asked as he grabbed a broom from the corner of the room. Arvin noticed you slip out the bedroom door but before he could ask where you were going, Lenora screamed again.

“It’s In the corner. Get it!” Lenora cried.

“Wait!” You said as he ran back into the room. Arvin took a step back as you knelt down in front of the mouse.

“Come here.” You said in a sweet voice as you waved a small leaf in front of the mouse. The mouse sniffed the air before scurried towards you. You gently scooped it up in your hands and stood up.

“How did you do that?“ Arvin asked in disbelief.

“It’s not a rat. Just a field mouse. They only come inside when they eat all the plants outside. I can take him back to my house and release him there. There’s lots of plants for him to eat on my lawn.” You explained. Arvin watched you with soft eyes as you stroked the mouses head with your finger.

“Wow. You’re really smart, darling.” Arvin said as he walked over to you.

“Thanks. I just love animals. Wouldn’t want to see him get hurt.” You smiled as you opened your hands a little so you could show him the mouse. Arvin was too busy admiring you to look down at the mouse. He knew he had only just met you, but he was already smitten.

That Sunday, Arvin was dragging his feet as the rest of his family got ready for church. He never liked going, but he went to make Lenora happy.

“Come on, Arvin. We’re gonna be late.” Lenora urged as he parked in the church parking lot. He rolled his eyes a little as he got out of the car and followed his sister inside. Just as he zoned out, he saw you walking towards him. He quickly sat up and smoothed his hair as you sat beside him.

“Hi darling.” He whispered. “I didn’t know you go to this Parrish.”

“I don’t.” You whispered back.

“Oh really? Stalking me then, darling?”

“I’m just teasing.” You smiled. “I run the church day care on Sundays. I’m usually in the back reading to the young kids during mass.”

“Wow. Aren’t you a little saint?” He smirked and turned in his seat to get a better look at you.

“Better to be a saint then a sinner.” You shrugged, making his smile grow.

“Maybe so.”

“I better get back to the kids. Good to see you, Arvin.” You patted his knee and went to stand up.

“Darling, wait.” He gently caught you by the wrist.

“Yes?”

“Can I come see the daycare?” He asked as fellow churchgoers gave you annoyed looks.

“Really? You want to?”

“Sure I do. I don’t need to sit through the homily. I know the ending.” He said as he nodded towards a Bible. You laughed at his joke before nodding your head.

“Come on. I’ll show you.” You took his hand and brought him back to the daycare. Arvin blushed at you holding his hand and followed you out to a building behind the church.

“Hi kids. I’m back and I brought a visitor.” You said when you opened the door. All the kids rushed to you as Arvin hung back.

“Look what I drew Miss Y/n!” A little boy said as he showed you his drawing.

“You drew this? This looks like you got it out of a museum.” You gasped as you wrapped your arm around the bot. Arvin was delighted to see that you were just as good with kids as you were with animals.

“Thank you.” The boy smiled shyly. You let go of the boy and hung the drawing up on the wall.

“You’re good with kids.” Arvin remarked as he joined your side.

“Thanks.” You smiled at him. “I try to be. I love looking after ‘em.”

“Spider!” One of the kids screamed before Arvin could respond. All the kids started screaming and the room erupted into chaos. You gave Arvin an apologetic smile before going over to the kids.

“I got it.” You assured them. You picked up a cup of colored pencils and dumped it out before showing the kids the cup. You put the cup over the spider before sliding a piece of paper under the cup. The kids watched with fascination as you brought the cup over to the window. Arvin opened the window for you, earning another smile. You put the cup outside the window and let the spider out on a bush.

“There you go, Mr. Spider.” You said before shutting the window. “Gather around, kids. Come look at the spider.”

All the kids ran to the window to get a look at the spider. Their fear melted into excitement as they looked at the creature.

“See? You don’t have to be scared. All God’s creatures serve a purpose. Even the small ones matter.” You told them, always taking the opportunity to teach a lesson. You caught Arvin staring at you fondly and waved him over.

“Did you want to see?” You asked and pointed to the spider.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m looking.” Arvin replied, never taking his eyes off of you.

The following week, Arvin was driving home from work when he spotted you through his window. You were holding yourself and walking home, your body language suggesting that you were far from okay. He slowed down so that he could drive along the side of you and rolled his window down.

“Darling? Is that you?” He shouted out the window. You looked over to see who the voice belonged to and gulped when you realized it was Arvin.

“No.” You replied before walking faster. Arvin sped up to match your pace before calling out to you again.

“I know it’s you. Come here.”

“I’m okay. Just keep driving.” You said as you turned your face so he couldn’t see you.

“I’m not leaving ‘till you come here and talk to me.” He replied. You stopped walking and sighed a little before walking over to his car. When you got closer, Arvin finally saw why you were upset. Your nose was bleeding and he could see a bruise forming around your eye. Your messed up hair and busted knuckles only further proved Arvins forming theory that you had gotten in a fight.

“What happened to you?” He asked as he put his car into park and quickly got out. He immediately ran to you and cupped your face to see the extent of your injuries.

“Nothing.” You said and gave him a weak, bloody smile.

“You’re bleeding. Something must have happened.” He sighed as his eyes filled his concern.

“I fell.”

“Into what? A wood chipper?” Arvin asked, making your shoulders shake with laughter.

“Good. Glad to see you smiling again.” Arvin smiled as he smoothed your hair down. “Now can you get in the car please?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I am worried. And you’re not fine. So get in.” Arvin said. You sighed a little before complying. Arvin opened the door for you and helped you in. Once you were both seated, Arvin went into his glove box and pulled out a handkerchief.

“Here. For you nose.” He said as he held it out to you.

“Thanks.” You smiled sheepishly and held the handkerchief up to your bleeding nose.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Arvin kept his eyes on you as he drove away.

“No.” You said quietly.

“Okay.”

“Where are we going?” You asked after a beat of silence.

“Back to my house. Gotta get you cleaned up.”

“Really, Arvin, I’m fine. You can just drop me off at home.”

“Is anyone in your family home?”

“No. My parents are at work.”

“Well then can I at least stay with you? Don’t think you should be alone right now.” Arvin said as he looked over at you.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “You can stay.”

“Okay.” He returned the smile. “Just tell me where to go.”

You reached over and gave Arvins knee an appreciative squeeze to thank him for taking care of him. He listened to you as you directed him to your house and soon enough, he pulled into your driveway. Arvin parked and got out of the car to open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You gave him a weak smile as you got out of the car. Arvin kept a hand on your back as he helped you into your house.

“Where’s your bathroom?” He asked once you were inside.

“Down the hallway on the left.”

“Okay. Come with me.” Arvin said as he gently took you by the hand. He walked with you to your bathroom and opened the door for you once again.

“Sit.” He said as he nodded to the counter. He found your first aid kit beneath the sit as you jumped up on your counter. He got out a Cotten ball and soaked it in hydrogen peroxide. He gently took your chin between his fingers and tilted your chin up.

“Arvin-“

“Hush now. Your lip is bleeding.” He said as he dabbed them Cotten ball on your lip.

“You really don’t have to do this.”

“I said hush.” He repeated, making you crack a smile. He finished cleaning your lip and moved on to the cut above your eye.

“I can take care of myself. Honest. You should go home.” You told him as he carefully dabbed some Neosporin on your cut.

“I’m good right here.” He said as he opened up a bandaid.

“You don’t have to-“

“Hush.” He related as he tilted your face up again. He put the bandaid on your cut and smiled proudly at his work.

“You gonna tell me how this happened?” He asked as he cleaned the dried blood that had settled beneath your nose.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t want you telling Lenora, that’s why.“

“Why? Thought you two were best friends.”

“We are. That’s why I don’t want her to know I was fighting.”

“You can tell me though, darling. I can keep a secret.”

“I don’t wanna tell you.” You said quietly as Arvin poured hydrogen peroxide on another Cotten ball.

“Why?” He wondered as he took your hand. “You know I’ve been in plenty of fights myself. I’m not one to judge.”

“Still.” You gave him an apologetic smile as he cleaned your bloody knuckles for you.

“Can I at least know who did this to you?” He asked as he got some gauze out of the first aid kit.

“Why? Are you gonna do something to them?” You teased. “Lenora told me what you did to those rascals that pick on her. Heard you left em with a couple broken noses.

“You heard right.” Arvin smirked. “And I’d do the same to whoever did this to you.”

“You can’t. It was just some dumb girls in my class.” You said as Arvin wrapped your hand with the bandage.

“Why did they do this to you?” He asked you. You gave him an embarrassed look before looking away.

“What?” He wondered.

“I started the fight.” You admitted as a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why’d you fight em?”

“Cant tell you that.” You shrugged, liking that he was so intrigued.

“You can tell me, doll.” He whined. “I won’t judge. Promise.”

“Promise?” You raised an eyebrow and held out your pinky.

“Promise.” He smiled and linked his pinky through yours.

“They were making fun of Lenora.” You admitted. “They’re always making fun of Lenora. One of the girls pushed her so I pushed the girl back and told Lenora to run.”

“And then you….” Arvin trailed off so you could finish your story.

“And then I beat those bitches up.” You shrugged, making Arvin burst out laughing.

“Darling.” He said through his laughter.

“Somebody had to it.” You insisted. “They’ve been cruising for a bruising all year.”

“You did this for my sister?” Arvin asked as he held up your bandaged hand.

“Some things are worth fighting for.” You replied, using his words from the day you met. Arvin smiled softly before bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“And here I was thinking you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I would if the fly was being mean to you sister.” You said simply.

“Well I appreciate you doing that, doll.” He said as he held your gaze. “Means a lot to me.”

“Well your sister means a lot to me. She’s the greatest friend I ever had. I wish those other girls could see how great she is. Not that they’re gonna be able to see anything for a while. Left em with some lovely black eyes.” You smirked as Arvin held your hand against his chest. You could feel his heart pounding and pretended not to notice.

“I bet.” Arvin chuckled. “How do your knuckles feel?”

“Pretty sore.”

“I know. Trust me, I’ve busted mine a hundred times. It’ll get better.” Arvin said as he showed you his permanently red knuckles. You took his hand and looked at his knuckles while gently running your thumb over them. He blushed under your touch while you wondered just how many fights he had been in.

“Thanks for patching me up, Arvin.” You said as you looked up at home without ever dropping his hand.

“Thanks for defending my sister.” He said with a smile. You flexed your hand a little as you checked out the bandaging.

“You know, they feel better already.” You told Arvin as he leaned on the counter, an arm on either side of you.

“Yeah? How does your lip feel?” Arvin asked as he tilted your chin up with his pinky.

“Still hurts.” You said as your eyes flickered between his lips and his soft brown eyes. Arvin gulped a little before closing the gap between you and kissing you softly. He could taste blood in his mouth but he didn’t care, choosing to deepen the kiss instead.

“How about now?” Arvin asked when he pulled away.

“A little better.” You smiled as you pulled him by the shirt down into another kiss. It lasted longer this time as Arvin cupped your face with his rough hands.

“And now?” He whispered against your lips.

“It actually really hurts now. I think you opened the cut.” You touched and touched your fingertips to your bleeding lip.

“Yeah. Let me get that.” He grimaced and dabbed the blood away with a clean Cotten ball.

“Why don’t we wait a couple days until my lip heals and then try that again?” You suggested as Arvin tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

“Sounds good to me, doll.” Arvin smiled. “Some things are worth the wait.”

Tag List 🏷

@theonly1outof-a-billion

#arvin russell fanfiction #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel fanfic #arvin russell fluff #arvin russel angst #arvin russel imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

here4kpopfics · 3 months

Text

Make My Day | MYG

Just a small thing based off a real life moment that just makes me 🤗 no smut no plot not really anything to warn about. yoonmin version on my ao3

Today was a day. Working in retail is and always will be physically and emotionally draining and every shift has you questioning why, only to be reminded by the never ending alerts from your bank account of the answer.

Just a few more years, your debts will hopefully be less and you can move somewhere else in the middle of nowhere and never have to use your fake customer service voice again.

That’s the dream.

But for now, you’re minding your business, have barely spoken a word to your managers or coworkers because you’re tired after a six day workweek with hours varying between six and ten hours a shift, and you’re just done.

The few customers you did take, were complete assholes. Whether it’s bitching about the return policy, complaining about lack of discounts, or just ranting about the line that shouldn’t have been thirty minutes long (it was five to ten maximum, but go off, Karen), they all had something to say to test you and your patience.

Luckily, you’ve worked in retail for far too long that the yelling and the cursing and the name calling do absolutely nothing to you anymore. If anything, it makes you giggle internally. Except that one time you accidentally laughed out loud and that set off a whole new tirade about being disrespectful to the old white guy that was calling your younger coworker incompetent trash.

Because you know, it’s not the same thing. It’s different.

So you stayed quiet for a vast majority of your shift, letting your coworkers handle customers and you handled the go backs, organizing and reticketing those that needed it. You didn’t even notice Yoongi coming up to your station until you turned around, jumping in place and almost shouting.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Yoongi. Don’t do that!” You whispered, always afraid a customer would hear you curse and another tantrum would be thrown.

“I said your name.”

“Well, I didn't hear it.”

“I said it like three times.”

“Liar.”

“You can’t prove that.”

You couldn’t even look at him or bring yourself to continue arguing. You just roll your eyes and go back to your go backs, ignoring him. You have to ignore him.

You’ve had a small crush on Yoongi for a few months now. He’s sweet, funny when he wants to be, soft spoken, his long hair usually up in a half ponytail. He’s beautiful. It doesn’t help that he loves to loiter around your station, bothering you with random questions and comments.

It also doesn’t help that he's in a very serious relationship and has been for years. So he’s strictly off limits.

But there’s nothing wrong with a little friendly flirting, right? As long as you don’t act on it. As long as he doesn’t act on it.

So you keep your space, both of you talking only while clocked in, and keeping the conversations as vague as can be. You will not be responsible for any breakups. You will just admire him from a distance.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to know about this, though.

“You good?” Yoongi speaks after a moment of silence.

“Mmm.” You hum, nodding, eyes glued to the clothes you’re reticketing.

“You don’t seem good.”

“I can’t always have a sunshine personality, Yoongi. That’s not me.”

“Fair.” He shrugs, grabbing the go backs you’ve deemed ready and taking them to the fitting room to be sorted. You sigh, wanting to curl up under the tables and hide until closing.

You go to break later, quickly inhaling something overpriced from the vending machine and a lemonade, before returning to your station.

That’s when you see it.

It’s ugly, honestly. An almost cropped jacket that is Barbie pink and fuzzy. The price tag makes you want to throw up. This jacket should not be in the three digit range. Absolutely not. It’s hideous.

It’d look stunning on Yoongi, though.

You look around, there’s probably one or two people in line, but there’s more than enough coverage from your coworkers to handle the front of the store. You grab the hideous jacket, heading straight to the fitting room where you know Yoongi is hiding from customers.

When you turn the corner into the employee only area, he’s hiding in his usual corner, just out of sight of the camera back there and on his phone. When he looks up to see you come in, he smiles, putting his phone away.

“You need another rack? Didn’t we just switch them?” Your other coworker, Miyeon, questions and you’re quick to shake your head.

“Nope.” You look at Yoongi, holding out the pink monstrosity, “I need you to make my day better and put this on for me.” It’s half a second before anxiety creeps in that he’d call you weird and say no.

But he’s admitted before to trying on women’s clothing back here when there’s no customers, doing full on fashion shows in designer dresses with the rest of the floor team.

He’s even shown you pictures that made you fight the urge to zoom in on his butt and comment.

Which is why he happily takes the jacket from you, slipping it on in an instant and putting his hair down for extra dramatic effect.

“How’s it look?” He grins, doing various dramatic fashion poses for you.

“Absolutely stunning on you, ugly as hell on a hanger.” Miyeon replies, making you hum in agreement.

“I make everything look good.”

“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes again, unable to hide the smile he’s caused.

“Anything else? Heels? A dress?”

“You two are weird” Miyeon rolls her eyes with a smirk. Her eyes catch onto the little television screen above the racks of clothing that shows the front of the fitting room. A couple people approach the front, and Miyeon sighs, leaving you both to tend to them.

You watch her interaction with the customers, the slow dread feeling from earlier settling back in.

“You sure you’re okay, y/n?”

Your eyes drop to the floor, taking a deep breath before looking back up at him.

Yoongi is so pretty. His smile is adorable and comforting.

“Just a shit week. I’ll be okay. Thanks for putting on the jacket.”

“You’re welcome.”

You give a small smile back, turning to leave when Miyeon returns.

And that’s the extent of your interaction that night.

But, of course, it doesn’t always just end there. You don’t see him again for three days, schedules always being misaligned. But when you do, he’s stepping out of the fitting room in line of sight from your work area, pink fuzzy jacket on and a stupid grin to go with it, posing like an idiot to make you laugh.

#kelly posts #not gonna tag the networks bc I don’t care about this #min Yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi slice of life #idk #it’s nonsense

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mmc-veronica · 11 months

Text

A≒A'≠A - A’ English Translation

Trigger warnings: Death and suicidal ideations

UM. so i finished this quicker than i thought i would. THERES A LOT OF STUFF HAPPENING IN THIS TRACK… i did translate/format half of this on my phone so sorry if its a bit wonky 😭 when i first listened to this i remember being kind of like “?????” lol… also i.. have not proofread this so sorry for any mistakes. anyways, translation under the cut!

Hello? Honey? It’s Etan~

Actually today I have a feeling that I can get home early today, so maybe we can see each other soon~...

Eh?! For real? Then let’s just meet up somewhere… by the way, where are you right now?

Oh, oh, then that would be closer to Tokyo Station.

I’ll be there in forty secon… no that might be impossible, but I’ll be finished with work in five minutes so wait for me somewhere, or you can just go ahead and meet me at my place, that might be a bit more convenient!

Alright! If you get there before me, feel free to make yourself comfortable! Then I’ll see you later, mwah!

It’s been a while since I’ve been this tired… Yo, yo! My Honey’s shoes are already here!

Honey~! Are you alright? Did you bump into anything? I’m home, I’m home, I’m home!

This situation where I come home and my honey’s right in front of me… Isn’t this a bit too good? It’s so priceless that my heart won’t stop racing! Hug~!

Hah… this is nice… coming home from work and being recharged with my Honey!

All my worries and stresses from today are replaced by happiness that I feel like I could redo this entire day and feel fine~

Huh? Of course, I’m fine! I seriously hurried over here after those five minutes, you know!

Could it be… Did my Honey make me something or do something for me?!

Are you serious? That’s seriously the best! By the way, what did you get for me? What are you going to make for me?!

This is so good~ Anything you make is good! Like, seriously, somehow everything tastes like my Honey!

It’s okay! There’s nothing to worry about! This handmade hamburger steak is a given, and once this frozen potato side dish was warmed up it’s Honey-flavored, right? Mmm so good…!

Thank you for the meal~ Thanks to your nice surprise I’m in such a good mood! I’m so satisfied that I’m filled with so much inspiration for ideas for a new song!

Right, right! Well, even once the release relay starts, we NSFW are the exciting last performers, so we’ll start putting in some serious effort soon~

Well, yeah, kind of. When it comes to the performance we haven’t thought of anything yet. The other members are still out and playing around. Even so, I think we still have to produce a happy song that breaks our boundaries, so the people who listen to it will be so happy that they want to start dancing!

That’s right, as the ambassador of this name I want to keep working hard.

Well that was the plan, since my happiness has reached its limit. But you see… Mm… There are some things I need to start cleaning up… before I properly become an adult…

Well before that, Honey over here! Come over here!

No, no! That can wait until later, It’ll become a hassle!

When it comes to cleaning up, I’ll properly do it all later, so…!

I caught you~ so from here on out its the start of my dessert time~

This is…! Hyper delicious sweets! Not even a ten star rating will cut it! Just one bite won’t do, so I’ll just have to take my time with having a taste~

I’m so refreshed! Then Honey, you were alright with… Yo yo?! What is this! Isn’t this a sight! My honey, wearing my shirt and sweatpants! Oh… this is too attractive…

Oh okay, okay, help yourself to any drinks! And why are you watching the news? That’s a bit bland!

I see, I understand the sentiment. Background noise just to keep your nerves at bay is always good. Especially if you’re alone.

Yeah, you’re right. Except I’m not sure what’s been changed specifically. The drinking and smoking age has been the same. Passports… you can get after ten years, right? Damn! I don’t know if it’s because of this country or not, but if someone goes out on a whim and decides to become an adult then that’s a bit of a problem~ Even with me, there’s a lot of stuff I need to do.

Hey, honey? You call me A, right? Ever since we started dating.

Yeah, true, but… For one, you don’t call me by my real name so it’s fine and I like you calling me A but…

I am A but this- If I said I was a fake A, what would you do?

Did I scare you? I guess we are similar~

I’m actually a twin. The one on the right is me and the one on the left is my older brother. The real A, without the dash.

The one that started the band and went by A, that wasn’t me. That was my brother. But…

He died.

A bit before we turned fifteen, he was crossing the street and a truck came… He… He… I’m fine. I’m fine now. I’m sure you can guess what happened. What I couldn’t say all this time, was this. Whenever I think about what happened, I can’t stop from panicking, so I've made sure to try not to think about it. My parents and doctors have all said to hurry up and forget about it, but not just the incident. They want me to try to forget about him as well. But, I can’t help myself. Especially recently. I have to keep him in my memory, or he’ll be scared right? I keep aging, but he’s alone, in the body of a kid. To think that he’ll be forgotten by everyone…

It’s kind of too late for this, but can you listen to me? About the real A that you don’t know.

I’ll make sure that I’ll remember properly, so if it’s you, it’ll be okay.

Yeah. Of course I know. No matter how stupid I am, I know you’ll wait for me. Up until now you’ve done that already. I won’t push myself. So first I want to talk about some of the easier stuff.

To outsiders, we were both little troublemakers. But, on the inside we were actually good! Basically, we would come up with ideas and run around messing with the adults! Well we were identical, right? So we would switch classrooms and see how long it would take for them to notice! Right?! But if no one notices, it takes the fun out of it, so in the end we would just tell them ourselves, especially him. I would say to him, “We were doing so well, so why did you tell them?!” and we would get into arguments, but, when we came up with our next prank, we would just make up without a word.

We went into middle school, and he suddenly said he wanted to join the light music club. I liked music too, but I never thought of doing it myself, so I was a bit surprised. I guess it was then… the crowds of people we hung out with changed bit by bit, but we still got along well, it was what it was. When he started being the singer for the band he was in with his buddies, it felt like he kept getting sucked in by the music. He was all like, “A musical star being born doesn’t sound that bad!” and I started watching his practice sessions with my friends. When we were third years, they had a farewell stage at the cultural festival, and of course he was super excited, but he got sick out of nowhere! I would say he got too excited and he got sick. Catching pneumonia and going to the hospital, coughing everywhere, he kept saying “I let down my bandmates and underclassmen,” I felt bad for him so I said, “Well, do you want me to stand in for you just this once? We look the same and we sound the same, so if I copy your singing we can just trick them like that!” Just like we did in the past.

Yeah. I sang in his place. I thought I did perfectly… Well yeah, in the end we were figured out. Well, I guess we revealed it, he did, that is. I’m not sure. That’s what I wanted to ask. Then, that day, I met with him on the way back from class, and… From that time, I really can’t remember much. No matter how hard I try, I can’t recall anything. When I came to, I was in the hospital. No, I wasn’t injured, but…

Yeah. That’s why I don’t like hospitals, even now. I blacked out without even realizing, and when I woke up, I was told that he had passed, and I couldn’t even attend his funeral. I was the one that invited him, and if I didn’t do that, then the incident wouldn’t have happened…

No, I’m fine! If I’m able to tell you this much, I can keep going. I want to tell you everything.

It was from there, where I started thinking, “I want to hurry up and die.” That was all I could even think. Even after getting discharged from the hospital, I was a mess, and I felt like even eating was meaningless. Then, I just started messing around here and there, and was surrounded by weird people. Yeah, the weirdest people I’ve met up until now, those are the current band members. That’s kind of the punchline here. Well, I’m not sure why, but they told me they wanted me to sing for them, but once I thought about it, I thought that it wouldn’t be that bad. And I could stand in his place… because the one who really wanted to sing was him, but he can’t anymore, so there’s only one thing that I can really do. But, I didn’t want to steal his spotlight, so I put ‘ at the end of my name. I’m A, but I’m also not. An imposter that is identical to A, A’. Well that’s obvious, isn’t it? We were seriously inseparable, where one of us was, the other was there also, and we would always go to each other for advice. If we were together, I thought we could do anything. No matter how old we get, nothing would change, is what I thought but… but then why… If that’s the case I should’ve died instead… I wonder, I don’t even know what really happened. I don’t even remember. Before the accident, we were just chatting, and according to the police, it turned out the truck had ran a red light, but… Even then, I blamed myself, that I was in the wrong… No way. There’s no way. If he was here right now, he would never blame me. That’s the kind of person he is. If… I was really in the wrong, he would probably just laugh and say, “Seriously, what are you doing? Rather than that…!” Huh? No… it’s nothing. Yeah. No matter how many people say we’re so similar, I can only think that he was more mature than me. We’re twins, but I can only think that he’s my older brother.

Maybe… Well, there’s not much I can do! He’s not here anymore, and I need to make something of myself. To make something of myself… that’s…

I know. Becoming A’… it wasn’t a mistake. I met you out of it too. Right now everyone’s waiting for me. The A with a ‘’s songs. From starting as an imposter…I couldn’t do it without reason.That’s why I said at the start, that it’s okay. I wonder if he’ll forgive me too, if I keep using the name A’ and continue making songs. Me? Yeah… I think he’d say “Go for it, as long as you’re having fun.” Well of course you’d get along with him! If you can get along with me, then you could with him. I guess it was all in my head… If I think about the type of person he is… then I have a feeling it was.

Haah… Yes!! One song finished~! No matter how I think about it, this is good! Now that’s said and done, the second song… I can leap this hurdle easily. I guess regaining motivation does help…

Why isn’t there a towel hanging here?!

Sorry, I guess I can’t reach you yet. I guess you knew that already though. But I hope you’re waiting excitedly for all the stories I’m going to tell you. I’ll have fun for the both of us. Even singing, and this dazzling world of adulthood.

#dear vocalist #dear vocalist translation #dearvo #dear vocalist unlimited #a’#edasshu #えーダッシュ #ディアヴォーカリスト #ディアヴォ #dearvo translation #rejet #rejet translation

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dp-marvel94 · 1 year

Text

Face to Face- Chapter 54

Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did

First -> Last -> Next

Word Count: 7,517

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note: Finally! The much awaited (for me at least XD) concert chapter! This is probably the most self indulgent thing I have ever written. 😅😳

Seriously though, I put so much time and thought into this love letter to my two favorite things: Danny Phantom and Christian rock. 😂 I hope ya'll enjoy it just a fraction of the amount I did writing it.

(And on a serious note. A warning for some minor religious references and discussion here- the name of Jesus in a reverent context, a character asks another if they would like to be prayed for. I wrote a very long post on Tumblr going to more detail on some of these and my reasons for including them. See the link in the end note.)

Excitement grew, buzzing in Danny’s chest as everyone piled into the GEV. Even Jazz.

The boy raised a brow at his sister. “I figured you’d wanna stay home and read about the psychology of troubled teens or something.”

The red-head rolled her eyes at the comment. She shook her head. “Spike is going. He’s really into the metal scene and I thought going myself might be informative.”

Dad glanced back. “Is that your boyfriend, Jazzirencess?”

Jazz blushed. “We’re just friends, Dad.”

The parents exchanged looks, saying nothing else on the topic. Instead the conversation shifted, back towards the subject of the concert.

“Danny, sweetie. Who are we seeing again?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Less than ten minutes later, the group arrived at the park. Dad pulled into a parking spot and turned the vehicle off. The teens were out almost before the van even stopped and practically run across the grass.

There was the stage, set up the field where Sam, Tucker, and his two halves had played frisbee golf on Thursday. Danny stopped a dozen feet away, just staring for a long moment. Not even four days ago he’d fought a dragon here. Signs of the struggle still mard the area: patches of dead grass, a few fallen trees, and –Danny winced at the sight– the destroyed bathrooms, bared off the caution tape. A row of Port-a-Potties has been set up in their stead.

The sound of a guitar broke through Danny’s thoughts. “Feels like I'm stuck. Going nowhere fast.” An older teenage girl was singing while playing. “My life is on the line. I'm running out of time.” The instrument suddenly cut off. Then her voice pitched down, speaking normally. “I’m gonna need more guitar in my ears.” A few more strums. “Perfect.” She glanced over at another teen, holding a bass. “Maggie?”

Beside Danny, Tucker leaned in, right next to his ear. “They’re sound checking!” The half ghost could practically hear the stars in his friend’s eyes.

“We’re listening to GFM sound check!” Danny felt just as giddy.

More strumming instruments, banging on the drums, growling and yelling into the mic. “Mic check! One, two, three! Can you hear me?!”

“Yeah!” Woah!” The few people already gathering in front of the stage yelled an affirmative.

“Sounds good, CJ.” The bassist backed up from the mic, leaving her instrument on a stand. “Let’s get dinner.”

“Pizza!” There was a cheer from the drum set.

The other two band members, all sisters if Danny remembered, left the stage, now empty of people.

Sam tugged on her friends’ arms. “Let’s scope out merch.”

The three hurried over to the merch tables, the group clustered under a tent. First GFM’s merch table, all black and pink and green. Shirts and tank tops. A jersey and hoodie. Wristbands and stickers. Pins. Even a skateboard- with cupcakes and a cheerleader in a black and pink cheer outfit with fishnets.

“I want one of everything.” The goth gushed.

Next Relent’s table- black cloth covered the table, displaying fewer options but no less enticing.

Danny eyed one particular shirt.

Tucker pointed. “Dude, check it.” The shirt showed a typical, if spooky, bed-sheet ghost, the scene complete with the band name, fire, lightning, and little bats.

“I’m so tempted.” The half ghost grinned.

Then Protest’s. A huge banner with the band’s logo hung on a frame, shirts displayed around it. In front of that was a table with posters, cds, stickers, and other offerings. A man with long brown hair and an upper arm tattoo was hanging up one last jacket.

“That’s a sick zip-up.” Tucker commented.

The man turned around…. He looked vaguely familiar. “Thanks man. My bro designed it.” He pointed to another man, a few tables down who was talking to some other people. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m-” He held out his hand to Tucker, only to be interrupted.

“Joshua Bramlett!”

The four turned, only to see-

“Grandma?!” Sam’s eyes crinkled in disbelief of the old woman zooming across the path in her electric wheelchair.

The man’s (presumably Joshua) eyes lit up behind his glasses. “Miss Ida!” He stepped around the group, bending over to hug the woman as her chair stopped. “How have you been?!”

The trio of teens stared, confused. “What is happening right now?” Danny asked.

Meanwhile, the bearded man and Sam’s grandma chatted. “These old joints are acting up. But I wasn’t going to miss seeing you boys for the world.” She patted his hand. “You have to meet my granddaughter.”

Grandma Ida wheeled forward, the man walking back to the trio with her. “This is Sam.” The old woman introduced.

“I’m Josh.” The man offered his hand with a smile.

“Sam.” The goth nodded, accepting the gesture.

“Tucker.”

“Danny.”

Two more hand shakes were given.

Josh then lowered his hands, putting them in his pockets. “Have you ever seen us before?”

“Us?” Danny raised a brow and the man motioned to the banner. “Oh.” The boy blushed. “You're in the band.” That really should have been obvious; hadn’t he seen him on the flier for this very show?

Josh chuckled, giving a shrug. “I sing for The Protest.” The words were so casual, “Are you excited for the show?” and the question eager and genuinely interested.

The half ghost instinctively felt himself relaxing. “Yeah! We’ve been talking about this for weeks.”

“Me and the boys will be sure to put on a good one for you.” He chuckled, before pointing back at the stage. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more set up to do. I’d love to talk to you guys more after.”

Sure enough, Josh turned and walked away. The three teens stopped, watching for a long moment.

“He seems nice.” Tucker commented.

“That young man’s one of the sweetest, most genuine people you’ll ever meet.” Grandma Ida nodded, eyes twinkling with her smile.

“Who you’ve apparently met before?” Sam frowned down, hands on her hips. “You know the Protest’s lead singer. How come you haven’t taken me to see them before?”

The old woman just shrugged, a mischievous look flickering across her face. Then her eyes lit up, gaze flickering to something near the stage. “Is that Marco Pera I see?!” She called out. “Don’t you run off now! Come talk to Grandma Ida.” The old woman wheeled off, leaving the three teens behind.

The goth lowered her hands to her sides, mouth open. “Unbelievable.”

Danny tugged her arm, diverting her attention. “Come on. There’s another table.”

Sam turned back. Her brow furrowed. “I thought there were only three bands playing.”

Tucker shrugged, leading his friends to the table. Sure enough, there was more merch displayed.

“They have everything.” Danny’s eyes widened. Bags, CDs, posters, stickers, and pins were typical fare. But there were shirts in just about every color, not just black or gray. Keychains and coasters. Wristbands too. Even jewelry, bracelets that looked like they were made of leather.

“You should get that one, Sam.” Tucker pointed teasingly at a pink leather bracelet with the band’s name.

The goth rolled her eyes, giving the technogeek a punch on the arm.

“Hey!” Tucker protested.

Sam ignored him, instead reading the writing on the banner behind the table. “Chaotic Resemblance. Who are these guys anyway? They’re not on the flier.”

“We got added last minute.” A blond man, late twenties with a lip ring, looked up from his phone, putting the device in his pocket. “We’re good friends with the guys in the Protest and playin’ a few hours away tomorrow.” The man shrugged. He had an odd accent Danny couldn’t quite place. “Figured we could swing by.”

“Cool.” Danny said with a slight smile. He had no idea who this band was but the prospect of hearing cool, new music was always exciting.

Briefly, names were exchanged; the man’s name was Travis, yet another lead singer. He asked the trio if they’d heard of any of the other bands playing today and who they were excited to see.

“GFM.” Sam’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve been following their vlog for like a year now. The music kicks ass. And their music videos! I love the one for SMILE.” She stopped, blushing in seeming embarrassment from the rant. “So, yeah. I’m excited.”

Travis laughed, expression open and kind, before asking Tucker and Danny the same question. The technogeek mentioned reading a review of The Protest’s new ep on a music website he liked and listening to the songs a bunch. And Danny…

“Relent’s super cool. Sam introduced them to me, since they’re on that same label GFM used to be on.” He blushed, cheeks scrunching up with his smile. “I’ve listened to the new cd like a hundred times. Especially Ghost and Heavy.” Just a hint of sadness brushed his mind at the thought of that second one. “I… really like those songs.”

“You’ve gotta learn the words, right.” Tucker elbowed him playfully.

The halfa just felt more embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well uh…”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Travis leaned forward, a conspiratory twinkle in his eye. “Let me tell you a secret. We love it when fans know the words.”

“Really?” Danny asked hesitantly.

“Yep.” The man nodded. “So you better sing really loud for those guys.” The half ghost nodded eagerly. Then, suddenly strumming sounded from the stage. Travis’ head jerked in the direction. “Oh, we’re sound checking. I have to go. It was great talking to you.”

Again, the trio watched him go. And Danny’s shoulder untensed. He felt better, embarrassment and lingering sadness gone. He knew all the words to Heavy because, well… he’d listened… and cried through the song many times. It’s not like anyone could blame him, right? The last two months had been the hardest of his life. But he’d gotten through it. He’d learned and he’d grown. And that song had been a tiny part of that.

Shaking the thought away, the trio of friends returned to their spot near the front. On the way they passed Danny’s mom and dad, both seated in their camping chairs with what looked like a few other parents. Jazz and a teen with black spiky hair and a nose ring stood on the other side of the stage, a little ways back.

The trio stood in front of the stage, excitement building as the band checked their sound. Minutes later, the musicians walked off, leaving the stage bare and ready. Music crackled to life on the speakers. Pre Recorded but familiar, fast paced and energetic, from bands Danny recognized. Anticipation grew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shadows were lengthening now, the golden light of late afternoon bathing the scene. The wind blew gently, not too hot or too cold. And the crowd gathered, people packing closer together near the stage. The half ghost’s heart fluttered with excitement. The show must be starting soon…

A cheer rang out around him. The boy looked up.

“Who’s ready to rock?!” It was an older man, maybe ten years older than his dad, bald but with a big, wispy beard and tattoos in a biker jacket. “I’ve always wanted to say that.” He chuckled. “I’m Dave. I’ve been volunteering with Guardians of the Children for ten years now. We’re so excited to have all of you guys here today. ‘Specially these awesome bands on the Gotta Rock ‘em all Tour.”

Another cheer rose up and Dave clapped. “Yeah! Give it up for these dudes.”

“Woo!!” Danny yelled, voice joining his friends.

More clapping and cheering… slowly the sound died down.

The older man pointed. “Later, one of my buddies is goin’ to tell you all about what we Guardians do. But now… are you ready to have your faces melted!?”

“Yeah!” “Woo!” “Yeah!” The half ghost caught a glimpse of Sam, her fists already in the sky. Tucker, mouth open to yell.

“Our first band wasn’t originally planned to be here. They’re on their own tour now but makin’ a special trip to see us. I love these guys. If you’re in my generation, you’re in for a treat.” Dave’s eyes sparkled knowingly. “Give it up for… Chaotic Resemblance!”

To cheers, the band sauntered onto stage, one by one. The drums pounded, cymbals clashing. Then the bass, an easy strum. The guitar, with a flourish and…

“How are we doing, Amity Park?!” Travis ran onto stage, now in a jean vest with studs and hair unbound.

The first song started, unfamiliar words fast. The guitars slung notes, fast and driving. The singer’s voice rose, high and resonating, with a twang.

Danny bobbed his head, a smile growing as he listened. The sound tickled his ears. This was cool! Not his typical style for sure. Maybe it was closer to something he’d heard his parents listening to…?

A hint of a bridge. The guitar solo. On stage, hair flew. The song swept up.

Around the half ghost, the crowd was swept up with it. Danny’s heart beat faster, hair flopping on his forehead with his movement.

The chorus, on final time….

“It's time we break!” Travis half-sung, half-yelled. “The identity crisis toda-ay!” The note held out, long high and reverberating. Instruments clashed, one finally flurry of head-banging.

With a final shout, the sound died…. And the crowd cheered.

“Yeah!!” The halfa clapped, the motion big and exuberant.

One voice rose above the rest. “Woah! Radical, dudes!”

Danny looked back, cheeks bright red. That was his dad, hands up and grinning like a mad man.

On stage, Travis chuckled, pointing. “Thank you, sir.”

The half ghost face palmed….

The show rolled on, embarrassment long forgotten.

“We’ve got one last song!” The singer started. “Thanks for having us.” A cheer from the crowd. The guitars started shredding. “We love you guys. God bless.” A final yell. “Let’s start a riot!”

Travis pumped the air with a fist. “Hey! Hey! Hey!”

Soon the crowd was copying….

Jumping. Hair slinging. Figuring out what to do during the song was natural, the crowd moving as one.

“This is the Riot Anthem!”

“Riot! Riot!” The boy’s heart pumped, grinning.

“Our final call to action!”

“Riot! Riot!” He shouted, fist punching the sky…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The set ended but the show went on, Relent playing next, just as the sun was starting to set.

“What you're about to see is not for free. No, I ain't got time for apologies!” Danny spat the words to the much loved song. “I'm a south boy killa. No scope headshot winner.” Screaming. “I can feel something staring at me!”

Bouncing, the half ghost’s spirit soared.

But the next song was Heavy. “I wrote this song based on my wife’s story. She’s been through so much. So many horrible, painful things. But she’s come out victorious.” The singer’s eyes flicking over the crowd. “So I hope her story helps people. I hope it helps you remember you’re not alone. And it helps you find the strength to break the silence and talk about the things that aren’t talked about enough.”

The drums pounded, slow and steady. The emotional words rang out. “I cannot take the pressure. This feels like forever…”

Danny sang along, vision threatening to blur….

The singer fisted the mic, eyes closed. “Look what you did to my soul. Look at the size of the hole.” He lamented. Tears collected in the corners of the half ghost’s eyes. “Why do I, why do I, why do I feel so heavy?”

The song trickled to a stop and Danny’s heart squeezed. He whipped the tears away….

One final Relent song. The music pounded. Danny jumped and head-banged, excitement returning. His head swung at the bridge, the best part of the song. He sung. “Time’s up! What! What! What! Welcome to the-”

A puff of cold air. Danny stumbled to a stop, looking side to side. His eyes caught on… he blinked. A young man with sandy blond hair, a leather jacket. Was that… the motorcycle ghost he saw in the Zone?

Nervous curiosity squirmed in Danny’s gut as the set ended with a bang. The instruments pounded as the people cheered. With waves, the band left the stage.

The half ghost glanced back, his eyes meeting the other ghost’s. The biker raised an eyebrow. Danny turned back to the front, biting his lip. He should probably go talk to the guy. There was a little time before GFM started.

He tapped on Sam’s shoulder who turned as he leaned closer. “Save my spot. Be back soon.” The goth’s brow furrowed for just a second. Then Danny muttered. “Ghost.” He vaguely motioned with his head.

With no more discussion, he ran off, weaving through the crowd. Sure enough… there was the biker ghost. Johnny? That was what the green haired woman he’d been with before had called him, right? Quickly, Danny approached, half a dozen questions buzzing in his head. But what came out of his mouth…

“You should put that thing out.” His eyes narrowed at the death stick in Johnny’s hand. “Don’t you know cigarettes can kill you?”

The older ghost burst out laughing. “Shit, kid.” He dropped the cigarette, the object disappearing into mist as it fell. “How can you even see me?”

“You’re standing right in front of me.” The halfa raised a brow, arms crossed.

“I’m invisible.” He rolled his eyes like it was obvious. “You a medium or something?”

“A medium? What-”

“Shit, I’ve seen you before.” The biker interrupted, snapping his finger. “You look like that twelve year old who was looking for his Mama.”

“I’m fourteen!” Danny bared his teeth. A cold feeling flickered in his eyes, green light swirling in them.

“Holy….” The other ghost’s eyes widened. “I thought you were the live twin to your dead bro. But… holy f-king hell….” He pointed. “You’re a halfa.”

Said halfa dropped his arms. “What… How?… I just flashed my eyes and knew it like that?”

“I felt it, now that I’m actually lookin’ at ya…” Somehow, Johnny’s eyes widened more. “How come I didn’t feel it before?”

Danny blushed. “That’s complicated…” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?” The question was curious, just a hint of suspicion.

“Watching a show.” He motioned to the stage, matter-of-fact. “Me and Kitten stumbled on a natural portal. Thought we’d have a bit of fun.” He leaned forward, voice lowering. “She’s good about knowing how long one’s gonna be open. Said we’ve got ‘til midnight.”

Danny’s brow furrowed. So that was apparently a thing…? But he didn’t ask. Instead he looked side-to-side…. “Where is she?”

“Snooping around backstage.” The other ghost grinned, mischievously, a hint of sharp teeth flashing.

New suspiciousness flashed in his eyes. A desire flickered- to get the thermos and catch the two ghosts before anything happened. But…. the boy sighed. Johnny was just standing here, watching the show like any other concert goer. He sounded like he was enjoying the music. Maybe Danny could hope….

Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Can you at least try not to cause trouble?”

“Trouble?” The man laughed. “We won’t do nothing too bad.” He winked. “Besides, I’m digging these guys… and girls?” His eyes widened slightly, set on something behind. Probably GFM getting on stage. He shook his head, expression just a bit more genuine. “Believe me, the last thing I want is to stop the party.”

At that, Danny sighed. Behind him, cheers started. “Great. I’ll be near the front. Have fun.” He started turning to leave. “And really, don’t try anything. My parents are ghost hunters after all.” He pointed a thumb to the two Fentons adults, standing in front of their chairs. “You saw that big gun my Mom had in the Realms? She knows how to use it. And…” He flashed his eyes. “My folks aren’t the only ones’ armed.”

For a second, Johnny’s face paled, nervousness flickering across it. Then he smirked, summoning another cigarette with a flick of his fingers. “Alright, kid.” Burgeoning respect shone in those eyes. “See you ‘round.”

Danny ran back to the front, pushing through the crowd. In front of him, pink-colored smoke still shot up from the stage. He arrived at his spot just as Maggie ran on stage.

“What is up Amity? I need you all to make some noise for me tonight!” Arms spread, head back, the teen brought the mic to her mouth and growled….

“Don’t tell me to! Don’t tell me to! SMILE.” A guttural yell.

Hair flying. The crowd chanted around him. “S.M.I.L.E. Why don’t you smile for me?”

His feet pounded, his heart pounded, sweat running down his back. Beside him, Sam spat the words; he could almost hear her growling along. Tucker banged his head, glasses hanging on for dear life. Even so, his friends’ faces shone with gleeful happiness.

The second verse swung around, the chorus again. Danny’s mind filled up with the words, the rhythm. No room for anything more than the sheer exuberance.

The guitar and bass cut off, drums pounding the beat. “Okay, everyone settle down. Boys and girls, are you ready?” The guitarist, CJ, more chanted than sung.

The crowd clapped and yelled, hands in the air.

“LuLu, are you ready?” Pointing at the drummer. “I know I’m ready!” With a grin. “Maggie, are you ready?” Voice pitched up, a performatively raised brow. “Maggie?”

A pause. The audience held their breath, gripped with anticipation and...

“Go!” A growl from said teen. The breakdown hit.

And the crowd lost it. Jumping. Headbanging. Pushing and shoving. Moshing. The horde jolted. Someone ran past Danny. And…. they were circling?! The half ghost grinned manically.

“Jack!”

His ears twitched at the cry. A look back, eyes widened. And… Danny just about felt his soul leave his body. His Dad… his dad was in the circle pit. A flash of worry. But the man was keeping up no problem, sure on his feet.

Danny chuckled, turning back to the front as the last chorus started. His voice joined the rest. At least his dad was having fun….

“Anyone want cupcakes?!” Maggie yelled.

This was it, the last song! And there they were: clear plastic containers with neon-frosted confections. The famed cupcakes!

“Misery loves company, I bet you're fun at parties.” Cupcakes flew. “Chasing after all the things you think will make you happy.” Instinctively, Danny ducked. “You've been played so many times, you'd make the perfect barbie.” The sugary goodness rained down. “Pretend your life's a fairytale, the story's getting boring….” The guitar sped up, fingers flying across the cords.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins, heart pounding a mile a minute. He sang his lungs out. “I don’t need your fantasy!”

Beside him, Sam’s eyes shone with passion, a balled fist to the sky. “'Cause I'm gonna say, gonna say what I wanna say…”

A cupcake nailed her in the shoulder, pink icing smearing across her shirt and face. Danny laughed, pointing. The shocked look on her face!

“…my voice. You can't take it away!”

Something chocolate brown and blue flew at his face. The half ghost flailed to catch and…

“You can’t!”

Blue icing coated his hands. He dropped the cupcake…

“You can’t! You can’t!”

Right into Tucker’s hands. The technogeek smirked, taking a huge bite.

Danny lost it, bursting out laughing. Mind, body, heart, and soul wrapped up, caught up in the moment. Just him and the beat. The stickiness on his hands. His grinning, screaming, laughing friends. The press of the crowd around him. The words pouring out of his mouth.

“This is my life, my voice. You can't take it away!”

His core sang, buzzing inside him. This. This right here. It was amazing, incredible, perfect. The feeling almost euphoric.

This is awesome! The words were more yelled in his head than thought. An almost physical thing, like throwing the idea with his mind to-

“Misery loves company, I bet you're fun at parties.” Sam’s jump sent her careening into him. “Chasing after all the things you think will make you happy!” She’s never looked so happy to be wearing pink.

The breakdown. Tucker’s flailing arm jolted his side, icing smeared around the technogeek’s mouth.

“Now, you’ll see… I don’t need your fantasy!” With bared teeth, head raised to the sky, Danny had never felt so alive….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The set ended with a bang, the clashing of instruments as people cheered. The three sisters left the stage. The previous soundtrack started again, so much quieter than the live music. The half ghost almost felt the crowd breath out, decompress as one of the Guardian of the Children volunteers came up to speak. The mass of people shifted, the space for moshing filling in as some snuck closer to the front and others left. Jazz and Spike drifted closer, standing right beside Danny and his friends.

Danny took a breath, whipping his sweaty forehead.

His sister laughed, giving him a knowing look.

The boy raised a brow. “I’ve got icing on my face now, don’t I?”

“Yep.” Jazz’s tone was full of teasing.

“You want some?” With a grin, the little brother swiped for her.

“Danny!” The older teen shrieked, jumping away.

“Come on! Let me give you a high five!” He reached again.

Jazz weaved, dodging. “No!”

“Come on!” Danny got her right in her face.

“Ew! It’s sticky!” The girl fished in her bag, pulling on a sleeve of wet wipes. Frustiously, she whipped at the blue frosting. “Here, you heathen.” She shoved the package at her brother.

The boy rolled his eyes but obliged, whipping his hands. It did feel nice to get the sticky feeling off them.

A sudden screeching sound through the mic brought Danny’s attention back to the speaker.

The older man speaking smiled sheepishly. “Got too close to the mic there. As I was saying…”

What was the man saying? Danny should probably pay attention…

The boy shuffled foot to foot, watching, listening. He was getting tired from standing here so long. And thirsty. He’d sung, and screamed, and sweated a lot. He glanced back, wanting to go get some water. But his coveted spot…

Another screech. Danny’s gaze jolted back, focus returned. The mic was giving the guy problems, huh? He watched the stage, the lights slowly brightening in the growing darkness. It was well past sunset now. A flicker of movement below the stage caught Danny’s attention. Some thing darted by, dark and strangely formless. That was weird…

A few more minutes and the volunteer finished speaking, leaving the stage. The soundtrack returned as the lights on the stage dimmed.

Danny’s insides fluttered, anticipation rising again. He was still tired, previous emotional high lessened. But the last band was about to come on soon! The headliner!

Beside him, Tucker shook with excitement. “Oh, man. This is gonna be awesome.”

Danny nodded. The lights shifted, spot lighting the drums. And…

“Make some noise, Amity!” Josh ran on stage, jumping. “I wanna see you on your feet!”

The music rumbled and the crowd obeyed. A roar from the background track. Josh fisted the mic and growled. “I caught you like the monster hiding under my bed. Now I’m gonna rip you right out of my head! Like a baseball to the side of the face, I’ll make you disappear without a trace.” Heads bobbed, hands raised. “The match is in my hand… The match is in my hand!” The crowd shook, starting to jump. “You’re just a paper!”

A deafening pop and sound and lights died.

“A paper tiger!” The last yelled words sounded, only audible because of how close Danny was to the stage.

For a few more seconds, the crowd continued jumping, the band still trying to play as Josh sang without amplification . “Nothing more than a… silver tongued… liar?”

But the movement stalled, fizzling out. The half ghost stumbled to a stop, brow furrowing in confusion. Around him the crowd started to murmur.

On stage, the guitarist closest to the trio, short cropped hair and bare faced in a tank top, stummed, no sound coming through the speaker. His head turned toward the others already gathering around the drum set. “Did we just lose power?”

The drummer shrugged. One of the lights flashed on, randomly swiveling on its display. The spotlight shone right in the short haired musician’s face. “Woah!” He closed his eyes, head jerking away. The sound echoed out. The man blinked. “Hey, the mic’s back.”

More strumming attempts. Josh tried his mic again, lowering it with a confused look. The drummer motioned to something on the laptop set up beside the kit.

The guitarist turned his attention back to the audience. “Well, that’s how you know it’s live and we’re not just playing over a recording.” He laughed, strumming his guitar and making a face. “Anyone want to hear a joke?”

Under the stage something black flickered again. Danny titled his head, brow furrowed.

“What's a vampire's favorite kind of candy?” He gave a pause for effect, murmurs of question coming from the audience. Then… "A sucker."

Around him, people chuckled lightly, several groaning at the bad joke. On stage, the man continued. “There’s more where that came from. What do….”

The words drifted over Danny’s head, unable to keep his attention. Instead, his focus was on a… weird, unnaturally dark shadow. It undulated, half-slinging-half-crawling in the recesses under the stage.

Another electric pop. The lights swiveled.

Danny almost swore he heard laughter….

The half ghost’s head turned side to side, looking. Was… no one else really seeing this?

The creature…. The ghost (it must be another ghost, with the way his ghost sense was swirling in his throat) chuckled again, static echoing through the speakers.

A few people winced, covering their ears. “Okay, okay, no more dad jokes.”

Somehow no one was seeing the ghost. How? Other people had been able to see the Lunch Lady and Dora. Wait…. It must have been the partial invisibility like Sidney showed him. But why…

“Hey!” The word was hissed, just a hint of ghostly echo.

Danny’s head jerked, looking for the source of the noise. His gaze scanned the crowd. For just a second, his eyes met his mother’s, her brow wrinkled in concern as she stood up.

Then… his gaze met a wavering, ethereal figure. Johnny…

“Cut it out!” The ghostly man hissed. He drifted forward, unseen by the crowd even as he literally, intangibly floated through them.

Danny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’m not doing anything.” He muttered hotly, earning a confused look from Tucker.

The biker ghost “What? No, not-” Another crackle cut off the word, the man covering his ears. His eyes narrowed, fixing on….

The strange embodiment of darkness.

Oh. Danny realized

“Cut it out, Shadow.” The man complained. “I’m actually enjoying this. Go make a kid drop their ice cream or something.”

Danny raised a brow at that last part but Johnny waved him off, attention still on the shadow.

“I’ll bring out the flashlight, man. Just you keep it up and see.” The other ghost threatened.

The living (unliving? undead?) shadow seemed to deflate. With something like a sigh, it zipped off.

The lights came back on. “Hey!” Several positive shouts came from the stage.

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Danny picked up the words, from the other guitarist and unamplified.

The half ghost turned his attention back to Johnny. “What was that about?” He asked quietly.

The man shrugged. “There’s a reason they call me Unlucky Johnny 13.” He motioned, waving in the general direction the shadow had gone. “Thing’s got a mind of its own.”

That… answered no questions. But the other ghost ignored Danny’s confused look, instead lifting a hand. “There you are Kitty.” His eyes lit up and in a blink, he disappeared, materializing at the green-haired woman’s side seconds later.

Danny just blinked, taking in what had just happened. That was… something.

“...feel like my ears are burning. They’re talking about me, aren’t they?” The words drew the half ghost’s attention back. The guitarist pointed his thumb at his bandmates. “I’m being voted out of the band, aren’t I?” The look was falsely aghast. “This’ll be my last show with the Protest, guys. It’s been fun.”

What the heck had he missed?

Just then, his mom tapped on his shoulder.

Danny turned jerkily, surprised. “When did you get here?”

The woman’s brow furrowed in concern. “You had a strange look on your face. Is everything alright sweetie? ”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” His eyes flickered to the two ghosts standing at the edge of the crowd. The halfa’s voice lowered, stepping closer to the woman. “There’s two ghosts, the biker couple we saw in the Realms. And this weird shadow ghost that was messing with the sound. The dude, Johnny, yelled at it to stop and it flew off somewhere.”

His mom looked in the direction his gaze had flickered. “I can’t see them.”

“I don’t think anyone else can either. Just me.” The boy shrugged. “It’s a ghost thing.”

“What are they doing?” She asked.

“Just watching the show. Johnny said they came through a natural portal and wanted to have some fun.”

Her forehead wrinkled in worry at the statement. “A natural portal again?”

“We’re good to go!” The crowd cheering interrupted Danny’s response. Josh’s words echoed. “Let’s start this again.”

“We can talk later.” Danny had to raise his voice to be heard. Accepting a nod in response, he turned back to the front.

The band was walking off the stage, only to return moments later to cheers.

The instruments pounded. The singer held the mic to his mouth and… “I caught you like the monster hiding under my bed….”

The song started again and Danny jumped, previous confusion and worry quickly forgotten.

“You’re just a paper! A paper tiger! Nothing more than a silver tongued liar! Paper! Paper Tiger! Incinerated by my new found fire!”

The crowd jumped and screamed. Song after song, excitement built.

Josh sang. “You may feel a change but don't be afraid.”

“The transformation has just begun!” The short-haired guitarist quipped with a grin, pointing at the audience….

The words half-chanted. “In the freak show. In the freak show. In the freak show.” Hands flailed, shoulders shook as Danny and his friends danced.

“Your mind will be blown away! Hey!” Each word punctuated by a fist to the sky. “Hey! Hey!”

“Welcome to the Freakshow!” Second chorus ending, the crowd reached a fever pitch.

His heart beating in time with the music, Danny head-banged. His hair flung, dripping with sweat.

Something square and silver at the edge of his vision. Head turned, brow furrowed. His mom had her phone out, lens facing him.

The boy snorted. Sore neck bobbing faster, he stuck out his tongue at her….

In the small break before the next song… “You’re supposed to take pictures of the band, not me!” Danny laughed…

The set forgaged on. Shredding guitars, pounding drums, screamed words. The songs were incredible. And the message in between…

“If you leave here tonight with one thing, know that you are loved so much. Do you guys understand me?” Murmurs of agreement. “So much. You have no idea.” Josh’s eyes were wide and earnest, so much conviction behind the words. “After we’re done playing tonight, we will be over at the merch tent. Please come talk to us. You are looking at four sinners so we don’t have all the answers, I promise you that. We don’t. We would love to hear your story. We’d love to pray with you. We’d love to talk with you. That’s why we’re here. That’s why all of these bands are here, why we drove hundreds of miles to be here today. To share the hope that we have in Jesus. We love you guys so so much. Come hang out with us. We’ve got a few more for you….”

Danny’s heart squeezed, something deep in him touched by the words. He didn’t know about all of this, but that offer… to be heard, to be listened to. There were plenty of things he couldn’t say but…

Another song started. By now, the almost euphoric excitement had smoothed, lessened, morphed into a more quiet, heartfelt joy. Even still, the words sent goose bumps over the half ghost’s arm.

“This is the time for life revolution

Setting a course to reclaim the broken.

We look to find those lost in the night.

Following hearts that lead like a compass

Fire will rise and we let it guide us.”

The singer leaned over the crowd and the half ghost sang, his soul pouring into each syllable. “Despite the pain, we’ll stay unbroken.”

Each voice ringing in harmony, brown eyes and blue eyes met. Something in Danny’s chest fluttered, breathless and awed. He could never describe the feeling, not completely. But when gazes met… belief resonated. Both meant every single word….

To cheers, the set ended. The lights dimmed as people started walking away. And for a long moment, Danny stood in front of the stage, eyes wide and heart light. That amazed feeling stirred…

“We need to get a picture!” Jazz’s hand on his shoulder drew him out of himself.

“Yeah. Go for it.” The boy smiled, letting his sister put her arm around him.

The pair took a selfie, each with matching grins. The red-head lowered the phone. And Danny finally registered his friends and family hovering around him.

“That first band was so good!” His dad gushed. “They’re just like that band I was in in college! Good ol’ Skunk Punks! But they’ve got much better hair. And better lyrics.”

“Your strengths are in things other than lyrical composition, dear.” His mom graciously didn’t speak on the hair comment.

Sam pulled him and Tucker across the grass. “We need to get pictures with everyone! And merch! I want one of like everything.”

“Yes! I need the GFM snapback. Their set was so good!” The technogeek laughed, pointing at the icing staining her shirt. “They got you to wear pink. And.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m the only one who didn’t get icing on them

The goth rolled her eyes but then a mischievous look passed her face. “That’s what you think.”

“What are you- Hey!”

She swiped a glob of crusting icing from her shirt and shoved it at him. “Ha!”

“Not my beret! Sam, how could you!?”

Danny just laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone bought merch. The Relent Ghost shirt and a wristband for GFM and The Protest for Danny. For Sam, the pink and black skateboard, a delightfully cute and creepy pink, green, and black shirt, and a bunch of CDs. (“Who even buys CDs anymore? You can just stream that.” Tucker wrinkled his nose. The goth pulled his hand down over his face. “I want to actually support the bands I like, Tucker. Spotify doesn’t deserve a cent.) The technogeek proceeded to buy his own CD and his coveted snapback.

Danny’s parents even got in on the action. Dad apparently bought a Chaotic Resemblance shirt for everyone in the family. And the famed pink leather bracelet.

Pictures were taken with every band.

“A silly one next!” Noses were scrunched up in ridiculous expressions. Two members of the Protest pretended to be punching each other. Danny laughed more still.

Words were exchanged, excited ones about the show….

“Awesome set!” Each GFM member was offered a high five.

More casual ones, about school and interests. (Unsurprisingly Josh and co were very personable.)

“Yeah. I just started ninth grade. It’s going pretty well.” “What’s your favorite subject?” “Science. I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut…”

And somber ones.

The last band Danny got to speak to was Relent. His heart twisted, words lingering heavy on it. You should say something, a voice in him, not audible but very much present, whispered. The ghost boy listened.

“The last few months have been… really hard for me, for a bunch of reasons. But… I’ve listened to your song, Heavy a bunch of times. And it’s really helped me. Like… uhh… when I couldn’t sleep and just wanted to cry. And… yeah. I’ve listened to it alot and all your other songs so…. Thanks for writing them and putting them out. And… uh… thanks for being here tonight.”

Danny looked down, nervousness flopping his stomach.

“That’s why we write songs and tour.” The lead singer (In their introduction, Danny learned his name was Miggy.) “Like I said on stage, I hope that our songs help people. Thanks for telling me, man.” His expression softened, earnest. “Do you mind if I pray for you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Danny’s friends and family walked back towards the GEV, the boy lingered for just a moment to look over the field. For just a second, three ghostly figures flickered into existence. Kitty and Johnny, the black shadow curled at the man’s feet, floated in front of the stage, unseen by all except the half ghost. The man nodded in his direction, lifting a cigarette-gripping hand. The green-haired woman waved.

Danny returned the gesture, lips quirking as the couple disappeared. He had a feeling he’d be seeing them again.

With the ghosts gone, the boy turned his attention back to the activity across the field. The bands were still active, packing up instruments and putting them in the vans and buses. Soon enough the stage would be torn down as well, leaving no evidence of the concert that had been here.

Even so, the half ghost’s heavy heart felt lightened. He felt better after talking to Miggy; that had been good for him. The boy sighed. This had been an incredible night.

Sam bumped his shoulder. “Come on. Tucker asked and your dad said he’s taking us to Nasty Burger for shakes.”

It looked like the night wasn’t over yet.

Everyone piled into the GEV and his dad pulled out, leaving the almost empty parking lot. A few minutes later found the trio sitting at a picnic table outside the restaurant, each nursing their own shake.

Chatter batted back and forth, jokes and memories. The three looked through the pictures that had been taken.

“That’s a good one! You got him mid-head bang.” Tucker pointed while he and Danny leaned over Sam’s phone, admiring a picture of Josh Bramlett with his hair spread in a halo above him.

“I love this one.” The goth swiped. This photo was of GFM’s drummer, an excited grin plastered on her face.

“Drummer pics are so hard to get! That’s awesome.” Danny congratulated.

The conversation continued on, milkshakes almost finished and…

The half ghost sighed. “Thanks guys for being there.”

That got him strange looks. “Dude, of course we were going to come to the show with you.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I…” Danny shook his head. He wasn’t exactly sure what prompted this line of thinking but… “I mean…. Thanks for being here for me. With the accident and then splitting myself. I know it’s been hard and you’ve been the best friends I could ask for.” He’d told them as much at Sam’s that day, when they’d convinced Phantom to talk to Fenton about re-fusing and his denial of his death. And even before that…

He blushed. “You guys are the ones who convinced Phantom me to stop denying we were the same person. You guys… you saw me.. You knew me even when I didn’t know myself. So…” He bit his lip. “Thanks for sticking with me,” There in the Hot Topic dressing room, after his ghost self had flown off… “even when I was a jerk to you guys.”

His friends’ expressions softened. “You really don’t have to thank us, Danny. That’s what friends are for.” Sam said.

“Yeah.” Tucker smiled. “We’re your friends. Of course we’ll stick by you. You’d do the same for us.”

Danny sighed, shaking his head. “Like I said, you guys are the best.”

His best friends both reacted out. An awkward group hug… the table in the middle had just their arms touching each other, heads close together. But Danny closed his eyes, heart warm.

This really had been the best day.

End note: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it. :) As always, feel free to let me know what you liked.

#my fic #face to face #double danny #split danny #danny phantom

40 notes · View notes

barbiecrocs · 4 months

Text

The blonde bastard

Laurent Thierry

tags! teasing, begging, switching, oral(male receiving), blow job, hand job, edging, sex so good it got Laurent speaking French, alcohol consumption, low key sadistic reader, "I wanna break him"

WC. 3450

Barbie's note... Hey yall🧍‍♀️... So I know I haven't posted in a while and that yall are fed up with not having material, but I've been going through the craziest writer's block ever. Then this idea came to mind after I watched Great Pretender and everything just came out because this show has been my personality for a while😭😭. Anyway, that's all, enjoy the new year!!

You gulp as you turn your back on the consequence of making a deal with a confidence man. “The clock started ten minutes ago, mon amour. Time is ticking.” You look over your shoulder to where the voice is coming from, only to be met with Laurent entirely at your mercy, his wrists tied together behind the chair, ankles tied to the legs, and his long, heated length standing proudly by itself. A sigh leaves your mouth as you think, ‘How did I get here?’

—

“Cynthia, stop laughing! We’re being serious!” You and Edamura pout as you stop drinking the half-full glass of wine he poured for you. “Oh, I know, and I feel you. Wouldn’t we all like to make the blonde bastard fall to his knees one day? But I just can’t stop myself from laughing. Your plan is too simple. Don’t you think he’ll see right through it?” Your mouth opens to combat her, but Edamura takes the words from your mouth. “How is it simple? We’d turn on him mid-heist, take the money for ourselves, get paid by his enemies to rat out his location, and turn on them by sending them to a location with fake police and get paid off there because they don’t want to go to jail. If that doesn’t scream intricate and complicated, then I don’t know what does.” He slams on the table with each sentence to emphasize the deceitfulness of your scheme as you nod along, but none of it phases Cynthia as she sighs. “I’m only going to tell you guys this once because I don’t even like the idea, but the only plausible way to get him on his knees is sexually. Which will already be hard to do, but I don’t see him swallowing his pride otherwise.” Your breath hitches with her response, and your hands fly to hide the hot blush creeping onto your cheeks. The way that she says it without blushing or getting shy has you feeling like such a dork compared to her.

“This is where I leave the conversation, but mark my words, we’ll get him.” Edamura finishes his drink and sets it back on the table, leaving the cleaning to you. You don’t notice it, but Cynthia watches you like a hawk as you bid Edamura goodnight and down the rest of your wine. “Would you like another one?” She asks, and you nod yes, “Don’t think I could have this conversation any other way. So another glass it is.” You smile, already feeling the buzzing and heat flutter to your face. When she’s finished pouring, your lips immediately make contact with the rim of the glass as an inquiry floats into your head. Feeling bold off of liquid courage, you pop the question. “Why would you know that about him anyway?” She’s halfway through refilling her glass when you catch her by surprise. She tilts her head in confusion, still not catching on before her eyes go wide with realization, “Oh god! If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, then you’d be wrong. Trust me, we haven’t done anything like that. You have him all to yourself, hun.” You’re unsure if the heat dusting your cheeks is a blush or a drunk buzz, but you cover your face in embarrassment. “I mean, you do want him, yes?” A warm silence passes through as you think long and hard about what you really want from him. “I want to break him, his pride, wipe that playful smirk off his face, and make him genuinely beg for something. Show him that he’s not so high and mighty and knows everything just because he always acts like it. I just want to knock him down a couple of notches. The satisfaction I would have if I could do that.” You snap out of your trance when your rambling stops, only to see Cynthia looking at you as if she saw a ghost. Her mouth’s agape, her eyes wide open, and her brows almost touching her forehead. “Oh… Never in a million years would I have imagined that somebody like you would go into so much detail about something like that.” You immediately cover your mouth and begin to sink into your seat on the couch, scared that you overshared or said something completely out of pocket for even a cons man. Just then, she eagerly leans in like a nosey little kid, hands on her knees to keep herself from falling forward. “How do you plan on doing that, though?” As if to save you from the question, the man in consideration walks in unbeknownst to your attention. Cynthia begins to chug the rest of her drink before leaving the glass for you to clean up and gracefully gets up from her seat on the other side of the glass coffee table. Before you can ask where she’s going, the voice least you expected to hear at the moment makes itself known.

“A little get-together, and I wasn’t invited. How cruel. Let me guess. Edamame was here, huh? I can understand why he wouldn’t tell me, but you? I thought we were closer than that, bavarde.” He scans the area, seeing only two empty glasses before sitting half a foot away from you and pouring some wine into the glass that Edamura used. A stiff calmness passes through the air as you watch him take a refreshing swig of the expensive wine Cynthia bought. You don’t notice it, but you end up staring so hard that he catches on, watching your eyes drink in the sight of him piece by piece. Staring at his lips as they turn a slight shade of the deep red wine, his fingers as they firmly but delicately hold the glass to his mouth, and lastly, his eyes, which you only just now noticed were watching you back, causing him to smirk. The glass clinks onto the table as he turns his body towards you, laying an arm around the back of the couch. “So, you want to break me, huh?” You choke on your wine before finally finding your grounding, “I- I’m going to hit the hay-” You shoot up from your seat, but he grabs onto your wrist and pulls you down on his lap, “Oh no, don’t do that because I’d actually like to take you up on your interest.” He slides an arm around your waist, and a hand comes under your thigh to spread your legs. “I’d love to see what you can do, but I have one condition.”

—

If you can’t make me completely submit in thirty minutes, then I get to show you what I can do.

Of course, you pushed for forty minutes since you said it was unfair that he was way more experienced than you. So you might have just fucked yourself before he could with this deal. Still, you fight the urge to leave him tied up and run so you don’t go down without a fight.

After briefly giving it some thought, you finally make your move by slowly stripping everything but your underwear and straddling a very bored Laurent’s hips. You make sure not to slide his length inside but leave its aching self behind your butt. “Finally, something is happening. You know, you’ve wasted a mighty fine ten minutes sitting there-” You interrupt him, wasting no more time on thoughts and words, and begin leaving kisses along his jawline. “Oooooh. Spicy first move.”

“Shut up.” You say and begin putting your hands to work. One squeezes his cheeks together to prevent him from speaking, and the other sneaks behind you and gently rubs circles on his tip. He jerks up into your hand, and you nip his jaw as punishment, which isn’t the last time that happens. Precum begins to bead on his tip, and you gather some on your finger before putting it in your mouth while maintaining the finest eye contact. Laurent’s head falls back before you feel him buck under you. “Mhm!” You hear him bite back in his most tranquil voice. You smirk and pause your actions, “Hm? What was that?” He looks at you in muted shock from the way that you almost don’t sound like yourself. Then he sees the cloudiness in your eyes and puts two and two together that you’re tipsy. “Who are you?” You snicker at the genuineness in his voice, “The person who is going to break you.” With that answer, you slide off his lap, leaving a wet spot on one of his thighs, before dropping to your knees in front of him. You gulp before looking up at him, wondering if this is a good idea, only for him to give you a smug smile that boosts your confidence. Taking his dick into your hands, you spit on the tip as both of you watch the thin stream of warm liquid slide down to his balls, “That tickles!” You ignore his complaint and start stroking at a slow pace after spitting a couple more times regarding his pleasing length. You hum in arousal as your mouth entertains itself with his inner thighs, pressing soft kisses onto them before surprising him with a couple of nips.

“Nice try, but easing your way into this at snail speed isn’t going to break me how you want it to.” You refuse to look his way, already knowing the expression he’ll be wearing if you do, the same shit-eating grin he always has. Viewing what he said, you have no problem brewing another idea.

Feeling bolder than the last time, you don’t hesitate to start phase two of your plan. You stop nipping Laurent’s thigh and begin kissing your way to the tip of his shaft. Only then do you tease the tip gently with your teeth before finally taking it between your lips. And your lips are the only thing it touches. You focus on not bobbing your head and strictly kitten-licking the tip. He jerks up into you only to run into your teeth like a brick wall preventing him access. “If you want my mouth so bad, ask for it.” You glance at him and see his head tilted back as if the decision put his life on the line. But in reality, he was just trying to give himself time to cool down and let time fly by with his pride still intact.

The knee-jerk reaction to look at you when you lick a line up his shaft for his attention wins, and he almost gives you a facial immediately. ‘What a sight for sore eyes.’ He thinks to himself. His eyes start at the bottom, where your legs are gathered neatly under you, then your ass which you poked out for him so generously before finally moving up to your lips that glistened with spit and precum. ‘Fuuuuuck!’ He thought to himself. He wasn’t sure if it was the liquid courage in your veins or if you were just a different person when you were horny, but he was confident that you were not the same shy tsundere he was talking to in the hotel’s living room. That shy person would never touch him like this. That tsundere wouldn’t have even admitted to wanting to break him. But he’s here now, so there is something that he undoubtedly doesn’t know or have right about you.

You grab his attention by tapping his thigh since the licking wasn’t making him decide any faster. He redirects his eye line from your lips to your eyes, only to be met with the beautiful stare that captured him the first time you met him in a casino where you single-handedly scammed some rich guy for all he was worth. He clears his throat, trying to sound like he wasn’t about to pop if you breathed on him too hard. “Please, Y/n.” He asks. You frown, knowing you should be satisfied with what he gave you, but deep down, it feels like it’s not enough. Sure, he said please, but he still has that damn smug smile on his face, and he couldn’t even throw in the extra neediness you wanted. You want him to beg like it’s going to save his life, like if you don’t touch him, he’s going to die of yearning and blue balls. You need to rip that smile off his face and fast.

“I know you can do better than that, Laurent. Otherwise, I’d have to leave you high and dry. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?” You egg him on by sucking his tip harder than usual as you watch his stomach dip and do flips. He pushes out a heavy sigh of relief before you put his pleasure on hold once again and start kissing around where he needs you the most. Just when you start kissing up his length again, “Fuck, please don’t leave me hanging, bavarde.” You freeze from hearing the genuineness in his voice, and your head snaps up at him, expecting to see Laurent torn to shreds with his hair sticking to his forehead and panting faster than his ability to get a word out. But you’re met with a slightly different-looking smile. His brows furrow together while his lips shake up a tiny storm, and his teeth that you can barely see through his almost closed mouth grind together, ‘This is the hottest he’s ever looked.’

You smile at him and spit on his tip before gulping him down inch by inch until your nose reaches his pubic area. Trying your best not to gag, you move slowly while your fingers work magic that you didn’t even know you had on his balls, smiling when you hear his nails claw on the end of the armrest. “Thaf fewl gud?” You tease. Only to feel another heartbeat deep inside once you see his chest rise and fall quickly with his teeth encasing his bottom lip to suppress his heavy, serene groans, “C'est tellement bon, bébé.” He pants out, finding himself physically incapable of breaking eye contact with you even though he knows that’ll only make him finish faster. It’s just the euphoric way his cock slides down your warm, wet, and tight throat with ease that makes him want to explode a thousand times.

‘Not experienced my ass!’ He complains, regretting that he chose to go easy on you and allow you extra time. Now, he’s dangerously close to cumming down your throat as you suck all his pride away. And him cumming isn’t even the problem. It’s the matter that he held his head up so high, thinking that you wouldn’t even know what to do if you got near his dick. Then he was going to make you scream all night long once your little forty minutes were up, and you’d just keep on coming back to him when you were sexually frustrated because, in his head, there’s no way or anyone that can fuck better than him. And he was the best of all the girls he's fucked, but that other part. Oh, he is so wrong. And you’re only going to make it harder for him.

You start bobbing faster once you get comfortable with his size, even going as far as to take the opportunity to try out some stuff that you heard makes it more pleasurable for guys. You try moaning around him to produce vibrations, give him the salt and pepper to create friction when your mouth gets tired, and even ever so slightly rake your teeth along his shaft, which he wasn’t a big fan of, so you go back to the first two. “Are you close?” You ask after feeling his leg tense multiple times. “Je suis si proche.” He nods with his answer, knowing that you still aren’t as fluent as Cynthia in French, only to regret being so kind when you pull off of him. “Beg me to cum. You can’t cum otherwise.” You say, laying your head on his thigh while letting your fingers ghost up and down his very sensitive shaft. His head tilts back for the first time in a while, but you already know he’s trying to stall and let time run out. So you take it a step further and give your sore knees a rest by sitting on the end of his legs so his dick is in front of you. “No stalling. I need an answer now.” He takes no shame in staring when you start rubbing your panty-clad cunt against his erection, listening to each moan you throw in when the friction against your bundle of nerves becomes too much. “Come on, Laurent.” Words that sound like a siren’s song when said in this scenario, and he’s praying to god that he doesn’t give in when you move your panties to the side, exposing your glistening clit to the cold air. You lean forward, laying your head on his shoulder while gently grinding into and stroking his length, letting any shlick that oozes from your pussy melt onto him. “I’m waiting, Laurent.” You hear his breath hitch, and thinking you are getting a response out of him, you pop up. Only to realize that it was just him shying away from you with his eyes shut tight. Frustration begins to cloud your mind, and you grab him by his jaw, forcefully turning his head back over to you. “Laurent, you’re cheating. Honestly, I should win by default-”

“Fuck!” He stiffly shoots out. “My… My answer is no!” Your teeth begin to grind until you feel his cock twitch with need in your hand. Realization and confidence paint a smile across your face, “Are you sure? Because your mind is trying desperately to resist my touch, but your body is falling victim to it so hard.” He shakes out of your grip and looks away once more, “I am sure.” You groan, “Then you leave me no choice.” You stroke him a couple of times before lining his dick up at your entrance, taking three fingers to transfer your shlick to the tip of his cock for easier access. The sensation is mythical in he has to clench every muscle in his body to not jerk into you, knowing that he’s going to explode during penetration. “Say goodbye to your pride. There is no way in hell you can come back after cumming on the first up and down.” You probe him at the entrance a few times, getting ready to sink onto him, but before you can. ‘Bloob, bloob, bloob, bloob, bloob.’ rings three times on the Apple watch Laurent is wearing. A heavy sigh is exiled from his mouth as all you can think is how close you were while untying him.

But it’s hard to feel bummed when you catch a hot glimpse of Laurent greedily finishing himself off. His head lolling back onto the back of the chair with his bangs sticking to his forehead due to the sweat. Both of his hands double-fisted his length as fast but gently as possible before deciding that one was enough and started tweaking his nipples with the free hand. Then, his long legs stretch out, taking up more room than needed as they twitch with each jerk. And lastly, the string of curses that you swore you’ve heard your name floating around once or twice, which you certainly did.

He delivers his last thrusts into his hand before cumming and collapsing back into the chair with a more fucked out expression than before. You roll your eyes and start gathering your clothes, “What are you doing?” He asks, immediately hopping out of his chair as if he didn’t just have the most insane and unhinged-looking orgasm ever. “I’m getting dressed to head back to my room, obviously. Why else would I be getting dressed? To sit around here? No.” You retort, prepping your shirt to put it on.“You must not remember the other half of the deal.”

“Nope, I remember it just fine. I just figured that since you orgasmed right now, you’d be all done for the night.” You’d think he saw you as a clown or comedian because before you got the last word out, he was hysterical while rolling on the floor laughing. “No, no, no, no, no. That isn’t how this is going to play out because I have stamina and libido for days, and I haven’t had sex for a while, but I do have you here. Ready to play. And I'd be the dumbest man alive to watch you walk out of here after the torture you just put me through. So I think it’s time that I show you what I can do.”

Should I post part two?😵‍💫😋

#smut #laurent thierry smut #laurent smut #thierry smut #laurent thierry x reader smut #laurent thierry #great pretender smut

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wolffapex · 1 year

Text

chapter six —when you look at me

there was nothing angel liked more than a good party.

→ words counting: 3,4k → warnings: none → khai’s notes: better late than never, right? i only have one thing to say: next chapter.

Chiara had never been in a Formula 1 paddock before. Therefore, she had to think a little about what kind of clothes to take because she imagined that it would not be a very comfortable environment, even more so with the heat in Abu Dhabi, even though it was a night race.

The driver wanted to take her straight to the Yas Marina Circuit, as Jim had determined, but the brunette asked that a stop be made at The Ritz-Carlton in town because there was no way she could go straight there. without at least showering and changing clothes after twenty-one hours on a flight.

After the shower, looking at the properly made hotel bed, she felt an enormous desire to simply give up pleasing her father and allow herself to lie down on that mattress that was extremely inviting at that moment, but a voice inside her reminded her that she shouldn't do that.

As much as her father always let her delays go by and said he was used to her flightier way, completely different from her brother, she knew that he didn't like it very much and always looked for other ways to try to show him that she was a girl responsible, even if she wasn't as serious and strait-laced as Sam.

The ringing of her cell phone took her out of her own thoughts, making her run around the room wearing only the pants she had just pulled up so she could get the device and see who was on the other end of the line.

— On the way? — Pilar's voice came from the other end of the line and she bit her lower lip for a few moments.

— I'm going to the Ritz to take shower and change clothes. — she replied, putting on the pants she had chosen to wear that night — No way would I go straight after twenty-one hours on a flight.

— You mean, you're going to be late.

— Maybe a little.

— I feel sorry for your future husband. — Pilar laughed — You're going to be a bride who won't be just a little late.

— Until the wedding, he will be used to my way of being. — she shrugged because that was something she didn't care about. For the next ten years, marriage or serious relationships were out of her mind — And if you keep talking to me, I'll be even more late.

— I know your excuses, Angel. — she sighed because she hated the childhood nickname, despite knowing it was in honor of her grandmother. — Do you think you can make it before the race starts?

— You talk as if the race is going to start in five minutes. — she laughed, stopping for a few seconds to mutter — It doesn't start, does it?

— No, we still have an hour and a half to start. — the brunette sighed a little relieved. — But we'll talk to Lewis and Nico.

— Who are them?

— The team drivers, Angel. — she replied as if it were obvious and the younger one laughed.

— Look, even you know more about Formula 1 than I do! — she teased, hearing her mother's laughter — I saw that there is a cute blonde at Red Bull… He caught my attention.

— Oh, Angel, if you are going to choose someone from this universe for yourself, choose someone from the team that your father is sponsoring. — she asked in a low voice — That time you got involved with the boy from City's youth team was enough.

The brunette's laugh made Pilar laugh too, remembering the confusion that had been the day her husband, a fervent Manchester United fan, found out that their daughter was having a relationship with a player from their rival, Manchester City.

— He was handsome, mom!

— But he was a rival. — Pilar laughed, shaking her head — I need to go… Your father is arriving with the head of the team.

— See you in an hour, mom.

— Do not be late.

— I am going to try.

— I'll ask an assistant to wait for you at the entrance with your pass to bring you to hospitality… Or do you prefer to watch from the garage?

— The drivers will be on the track, there will be no more fun in the garage. — she smiled weakly — I watched with you from hospitality.

— Okay… See you soon.

She hung up the call still laughing and put the device aside so she could finish getting ready as quickly as she could because really, this time, she didn't want to be late, even though she knew it would make her feel like a fish out of her depth water on site.

Even when she closed the bedroom door, the urge to go to bed was present in her because she was about to participate in something she didn't like, but she knew it was one of the burdens of the last name she carried and the image that her parents would like to present to the world.

So, there wasn't much choice but to embrace that part of her own world that she didn't like and make the best of it, as she always knew how to do so well.

Inside the Mercedes Class C that took her to the circuit, the brunette smiled to herself, leaning back on the seat and putting her thumb on her lower lip because she knew exactly how to turn a boring environment into something extremely fun and light, like her liked.

Alcohol.

She was sure the setting would serve champagne or, perhaps if she was a little luckier, something stronger, especially if the team won.

Suddenly Ratcliffe laughed at the thought that he would actually have to root for the team to win because she wanted a good party. After all, it would be necessary to celebrate the fact that INEOS is sponsoring the winning team of the year…

And there was nothing Chiara Ratcliffe liked more than a party. With reason to celebrate, she was would be on cloud nine — or hugging the best vodka brands on the planet.

– Come on, Mercedes!

Chiara couldn't say that she watched the race from inside hospitality because she didn't even pay attention to what was broadcast on television, her eyes focused only on her phone screen and her Instagram feed, following what her friends were doing.

However, when the narrator's scream announcing Lewis Hamilton's victory was present in the special, as well as the celebrations of the people in the place, she looked up at the television to follow it a little.

It was during that moment that her eyes went to him.

The podium ceremony was broadcast by the station. Lewis Hamilton had received first place for Mercedes and he was there to receive the constructors' trophy, being soon showered with champagne at the moment of celebration by his driver and the others who were also on the podium, but the brunette didn't care to know a lot about them.

She watched as he embraced Lewis, tipping the champagne bottle over him as well, but her attention was fully on the taller man she didn't know.

Was he a member of the team?

Strategist?

Engineer?

“Damn it, Chiara, why didn't you pay attention a little earlier?”, she asked herself, beating herself up for missing the chance to find out who the handsome stranger was.

Not long after the ceremony ended, Jim and Sam walked into hospitality, also soaking wet from having taken part in the team photos in the garage, but ecstatic from what they had just witnessed.

The english had no doubt that he would unite his company's name with Mercedes in a partnership far greater than just one race. That's because the feeling he had there, experiencing that moment, he wanted to have other times when he saw the team being champion again.

Samuel told the two about the invitations that the family received and Jim made it clear that he would choose to attend the team dinner at the hotel, but preferred not to go to the party that would take place on the rooftop of the Ritz-Carlton, which made the youngest smile widely.

An hour and a half after Mr. Ratcliffe's sentence, the brunette studied her own image in the suite's mirror to see if she had liked the red silk dress she had on her body. This was the second one she'd tried on, but unlike the first, she loved the way it draped over her body, accentuating her curves and making her a little more sensual in just the right places.

She didn't even have to think too much because that was definitely the best look, she could wear that night.

She opted for a lighter make-up, perfecting the red lipstick that was one of her favorites and, when she was satisfied, she looked for her cell phone, leaving the room at the same moment that Samuel approached to knock on her bedroom door.

— You're really trying to get a driver... — the oldest joked after looking her up and down, shaking his head.

— I just got ready to enjoy the night celebrating the title of the new team sponsored by dad. — she replied.

— Mom and dad might believe that, but I don't… — he smiled wryly in her direction. — Are you going to dinner?

— Sometimes I think you don't know me, Sam. — it was her turn to shake her head — Do I look like a woman interested in a meeting disguised as a celebratory dinner? - she laughed — The boring part, I leave it to you.

— It's never too late to think that a little sense has entered your head. — he winked at her.

— I have sense, Samuel.

— That's what you say, Angel.

She rolled her eyes at the comment as he chuckled.

— Be careful, okay? — he smiled in her direction. — When I get out of dinner, I'll stop by to find you and make sure you're okay.

— If I'm around any man, please pretend you don't know me.

— I will come to you. — he pointed her index finger in her direction and the brunette rolled her eyes once more before slamming a hand on his shoulder to push him away.

— Let’s go.

Samuel nodded, laughing as he was shooed away from the bedroom door, and the two siblings walked down the hall of the Ritz-Carlton towards the elevator.

The eldest let the sister enter first, entering the cubicle later, when she had already pressed the button for the rooftop so she could go to the party.

Instrumental music echoed through the speakers in the room and this caused the woman to drum her fingers on the glass as a form of distraction while Samuel arrived with the cell phone in his hands.

When the doors opened and the brunette noticed the loud music from the other room, a smile automatically appeared on her lips and she turned back to say a short goodbye to Samuel.

— Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Angel.

— You know that doesn't work for me, Sam. — she winked, blowing him a kiss and laughing before turning around so she could actually enter the indoor rooftop area.

Chiara took a few minutes to look at the place, first so that she could analyze what was happening, and she smiled when she saw some people already dancing, others drinking to the music that the DJ, on a stage, was playing.

She never had a problem going to a party alone. In fact, she even preferred to be alone than with half-hearted company, as if her brother were there. There was also the fact that none of those people knew her, which gave her the peace of mind to be able to drink and be merry without the slightest bit of guilt or embarrassment in advance.

She pivoted on the stiletto heels she wore, walked towards the bar and smiled in the direction of the bartender who was finishing serving a few other people.

— I want a shot of tequila. — she asked because she always liked to start the night that way and the man nodded, getting ready to pick up the order.

In a few minutes, the tequila, salt and lime were on the counter. The brunette did the ritual, smiling in a satisfied way as she felt the liquid go down her throat, burning the exact way she liked it.

— And now what? — the bartender smiled in her direction and she shrugged, laughing in his direction.

— Give me one more shot and surprise me with a drink that has a lot of alcohol.

— Let me guess… — he pretended to think for a few moments, before resting his arm on the counter. — Your team won today and your personal life is fucked up? — she repeated the words she had heard about thirty minutes ago and the brunette knit her eyebrows, shaking her head from side to side in the middle of a weak laugh.

— Who brought you this tragic story?

— The boss of Mercedes. — he shrugged his shoulders, as if that wasn't a big deal. — I'll get your drink.

She nodded in agreement, although she was stuck on the fact that the person in trouble was the head of the team. Due to her being late the day before and her arrival at Yas Marina, she hadn't had the chance to meet the man, she only remembered hearing his voice when she spoke to her brother over the phone.

While waiting for her drink, the brunette wanted to roll her eyes when she realized that Coldplay's Fix You echoed through the room, internally questioning what kind of DJ was the one that had been hired that put on such a sad song during the happiest night for all the people present.

Chiara laughed, letting her eyes roam the bar and the people who were seated, just like her, sighing weakly as there was no familiar face there. She had never been much of a fan of going to parties alone because she knew that once alcohol got into her body it was very easy to do some shit, but there was also no possibility of being in Abu Dhabi on the day Mercedes won the World Cup. her first title in the new era of Formula 1 and she was not going to participate in that celebration.

By God, there was nothing Chiara Ratcliffe liked more than a good party.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell when a man sat down on the empty stool next to her, but she decided not to make too much of him. She was still waiting for her drink to start her night and, after she had her drink in hand, she would scan the field to analyze the options she had.

Soon, her attention was called by the bartender who placed the shot in front of her and she smiled, turning her body so she could face the bar and taking a deep breath before bringing the glass to her lips, swallowing the tequila at once and smiling, with her eyes closed, as she felt the liquid burn her throat the exact way she liked it.

She remained standing in front of the bar and it didn't take long for the waiter to return with a colorful drink, placing it in front of her. The brunette smiled in thanks, turning the stool to the other side so she could face the dance floor once more, before taking her fingers to the straw so she could position it on her lips to try that unknown drink.

Chiara already had a certain resistance to alcohol. It wasn't easy to be knocked down by drinks and, even if she found them too strong, she knew perfectly well to enjoy them and enjoy them as much as she could, without remembering that there would be a day after. And when the next morning came, usually with vows against alcohol, she felt like crap, but she could remember pretty much everything she'd done.

— Hey, boss! — she heard a voice call and turned her face, finding the unknown man who was sitting next to her with his eyes locked on her. A strange feeling seemed to run through her body, especially as he was staring at her blue globes with an unfamiliar glow.

With her index finger raised, she pointed at the bartender, smiling slightly and indicating that the man had been called and he chuckled weakly before turning away. She could still hear him order a triple shot of whiskey as she got up to head towards the dance floor because We Found Love was starting to echo through the room and she wouldn't stand still at a party like that.

It didn't take long for her to be part of a group of unknown women who were also dancing and enjoying the music. The brunette swayed her body to the beat of the music, throwing her arms up and, at times, closing her eyes so she could really feel the beat of the music, moving her hips to the rhythm.

In the middle of dancing, she drank her drink, smiled at the women around her, starting to really enjoy that night the way she was hoping, enjoying the good music the DJ played and the alcohol that the bar provided. It was like she was in paradise because it was everything she loved the most.

Ratcliffe had no idea how long she'd been on the dance floor or how many songs had passed since the Rihanna one that sent her there. She had already danced with several strangers and strangers, listened to unnecessary flirting and finished her first drink of the night. The back of her neck was wet with sweat, which caused her to tie her hair into a bun in an attempt to bring some air into the room, and when Domino began to be touched, she decided it was time to go to the bathroom. bar to get another drink.

The stool she sat on the first time she went to the bar was occupied and, as there were no seats available, she stayed in the corner of the place, trying to attract the bartender's attention so she could place an order. However, her attention was caught at that moment by the fact that the man who had been watching her earlier was still in the same place as before.

At that moment, he was talking to Lewis Hamilton and a few other people who she had no idea who they were, but it certainly didn't seem like a conversation for a relaxed environment like the one they were. She watched the stranger take a sip from a bottle of beer before turning away, totally uninterested in the subject of the circle, bringing his gaze to hers, as if he were really looking for her.

Chiara wasn't crazy to say that she hadn't noticed that, on several occasions when she was dancing, she would find his eyes in her direction. At times, she had even moved towards him just to tease him and try to cause some reaction, but nothing happened and he just continued to watch her.

— Photo! — another man, with a professional camera in hand, approached the unknown group, asking them to join so he could record that moment and the man turned his face away, withdrawing her attention so that he could appear in the photo that would be taken.

This time, her attention was drawn to that moment because the first flash erupted with screams and hisses from parts of them. The distraction of the unknown man meant that she could stare and study him for a few seconds, trying to search her mind if she had seen him before.

When he approached Lewis, placing a hand on the Englishman's shoulders, and holding the trophy with him, it was as if another image had appeared right in front of the brunette: the podium.

It was obvious that she had seen that man before! He had caught her attention at the podium moment after the race, especially when his white Mercedes shirt was completely soaked in champagne.

A new flash broke out and she didn't care about the possibility of walking out in the background of the photo simply with her eyes locked on the unknown man because, suddenly, he had become too interesting for her and she started to care little about the fact that he stays the whole night watching her without taking any action.

She could take that attitude, no problem.

#toto wolff #formula one fanfic #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fic #f1 x oc #f1 fanfic #wd

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hinatastinygiant · 6 months

Text

8 | Solar Gold

Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Pirate's Treasure Masterlist

As you and Bakugou continue to follow the cryptic instructions on the map, the tension in the air is palpable. Both of you are sick of searching the island just to come up empty-handed every day. It's getting closer and closer to the summer solstice. And it's already been two weeks since you started looking.

But on one fateful day, as Bakugou stuffs his face in the map, you find yourself in an area that is unfamiliar to you. The dense jungle around you gives way to a small clearing, and you see the outline of what looks like a small building.

"Bakugou!" you gasp, recognizing the shape. "It's a ruin!"

"You're right." He replies as he looks up from the map to see, a smirk playing on his lips. "And that's the location on the map."

"Oh my God!" You exclaim, a grin spreading across your face. Then, without really thinking, you throw your arms around Bakugou in an excited hug. "We found it!"

For a moment, Bakugou's surprised at the sudden contact. His body stiffens as if he's unsure of how to respond. But then, his usual demeanor returns, and he gives you a light shove. "Get off me!" He yells. "I don't need you clinging to me!"

"Okay, okay." You laugh, releasing him from your grip. "Come on. We need to check this place out."

The two of you head toward the ruins. They're small, but clearly very old. A stone structure surrounded by vines and vegetation. There's an eerie feeling that hangs in the air, and the sound of birds chirping in the trees echoes through the forest.

"I think you're right," you whisper to him. "This place does feel cursed."

"Damn right it does," Bakugou snarls.

As the two of you look around, you notice that there's a chest half-buried in the ground. You kneel down to get a better look at it, and you see that it's made of stone and metal.

"It's sealed," Bakugou comments as he examines it.

You roll your eyes. "You didn't even touch it. How would you know?"

"Because I can tell," he snaps.

"Then how do we open it?"

"First, you'd have to dig it up but I don't think that's a good idea," he shakes his head. "We have no idea what's inside."

"So what are we supposed to do? Leave it here?"

"Yes. We should probably keep looking around and see if there's anything else," he suggests.

"Bakugou, there's nothing here. And it's still not the solstice," you sigh. "Shit, do you even know when that is?"

"Uh, well, it's in the summer, right? So...sometime between June and August."

"Great. So we still have no idea," you shake your head. "Come on, help me dig this thing up. Maybe it'll give us some answers."

"We already know what's in it, idiot," Bakugou scoffs.

"We do?"

"Nothing good," he says, a frown on his face.

"How would you know? You didn't even try to open it," you argue.

"Because I just know," he tells you. "It's some kind of buried treasure, right? On this island, that's not a good thing, princess."

"What? Why not?"

"Because," Bakugou takes a deep breath, and you can see that he's getting frustrated. "The curse is on this island, and everything that comes with it."

"You and your curses," you shake your head yet again. "Fine, if you help me dig it up and I get cursed, I'll let you say 'I told you so,'" you offer.

"I'll pass."

"Please," you beg. "We've been stuck here forever. If we can just get our hands on some kind of clue at least it won't feel like we're going in circles."

"Fine," Bakugou huffs. "But if something bad happens, don't blame me."

"Thank you."

The two of you start digging. It's a lot harder than you thought it would be. The dirt is thick and hard. But after about ten minutes, Bakugou has finally unearthed the entire chest.

"Alright, so now what?" He asks, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"We open it, obviously."

"How?"

"I'm going to force it," you tell him.

"What?"

"Force the chest open," you explain. "We've got time, right? I'm sure we can get it open after awhile."

"Are you serious? You're just going to mess with it like an idiot until it cracks? What do you expect us to do, just sit here for days on end and stare at this thing until it falls apart?"

"It won't take that long, I'm sure of it," you tell him. "Can you help me carry it back to the ship?"

"Yeah, because that's not annoying or anything," he grumbles.

"I know you think I'm crazy, Bakugou. But I can feel it, we're close to something. Please, help me," you beg.

He sighs. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

With his help, you're able to drag the heavy chest back to the ship.

"So, what now?" He asks as the two of you set it down on the deck.

"I'll start by forcing it open. And then I'll take a look inside," you tell him.

"I still don't know what you mean by forcing it open," he rolls his eyes. "Your small hands aren't strong enough to break it open."

"No, I have another plan. Give me a minute."

You hurry into your room and retrieve a sledgehammer from your equipment. It's an old, worn tool. The head is dull and cracked, and the handle is covered in scratches.

"Are you fucking serious?" Bakugou gawks.

"Just watch," you say as you return to the chest. However, try as you might, the tool doesn't work. Even after Bakugou gives it several serious tries.

"See," he mutters as he loses hope again. "Cursed."

"No, I don't think so," you hum as you take a closer look at the chest's seal.

"What are you doing now?"

"Well, if I can't force it open, I'll have to figure out what this code means," you tell him.

"More symbols?" He grunts, unimpressed.

"Yes," you answer. "I think there's a combination to the lock. Like a safe."

"Then why don't we just use dynamite to blast the thing open?"

"That has nothing to do with what I just said," you respond, a small smile on your lips.

"Yeah, well, it would be easier," he grumbles.

You ignore him and focus on the symbols. They seem to be carved into the metal. But there are no letters or words. You have no idea how you're going to figure this thing out.

☠ ☠ ☠

You don't think you've moved from this spot in the past three days. You've spent all of your time staring at the symbols on the chest, trying to figure out what they mean. It's been difficult, but you've managed to narrow down the possible combinations to three different possibilities.

"You should really rest," Bakugou tells you as he approaches you with the dinner he had just caught.

"I can't. I'm close," you assure him.

"Y/N, you've been sitting here for three days. You're not going to get the box open any faster."

"But what if the answer is right here, and I'm just missing it?" You ask, desperate.

"You'll miss it even more if you collapse and can't even remember the question," he insists, sighing as he sits down beside you.

"What is that?" you ask, eyeing the cooked fish on the skewers he has.

"Something for you to eat. You have to keep your strength up," he grunts.

"I don't have time," you shake your head.

"Eat," he demands.

"Okay, okay," you huff, grabbing a fish and taking a bite.

"Good," he nods, biting into his own meal. "So, have you figured anything out yet?"

"It looks like some kind of, I don't know, constellation?" you sigh, hopelessly, as you fiddle with the symbols. You don't notice, but as you touch the chest, Bakugou's eyes begin to glow.

"What?" he coughs, looking away from you.

"There are these stars," you explain. "And there's a pattern, but I can't figure out how to match them."

"How can you even see anything?" he grumbles, standing up to make some distance between the two of you. "It's so damn dark. Go to bed."

With that, he stomps off.

"You're the one who brought me the fish," you call out after him, annoyed. "Thanks for the food!"

After another hour of getting absolutely nowhere, you decide that he's right, and that it's time to go to sleep.

You lie awake for a long time, though. The chest's strange symbols keep running through your head. There's got to be a way to figure this thing out.

"Damn it," you groan, giving up. "I can't sleep until I figure this damn thing out."

Pirate's Treasure Masterlist

Taglist: @nemisimp @boopjuice @stevenknightmarc

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auroraescritora · 10 months

Text

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME - PERCY/NICO AU HIGH SCHOOL - CHAPTER III

Hi! We are back. I tried my best, so I hope is acceptable.

Good Reading^^

The bell rang just as Nico yawned, making him bringing a hand to his mouth.

“Do you want to go home?” Percy asked, pausing to write on the physics question sheet momentarily, seeming to think seriously about something to hurriedly get back to writing, without taking his attention away from the task, all while holding it in one of his hands, as if Nico were going to leave any minute now. running in case Percy wasn't there to stop him. It was almost funny, both of them sitting in a circle of six or seven people on the library floor while he watched Percy do all the heavy lifting.

He wanted to tell Percy that he wasn't tired, that it was just jet lag. Even though he arrived two or three days ago, he still hadn't got used to it and he’d barely been able to sleep the previous nights, not to mention the climate which was much milder than in Italy, the cold weather making him sleepy and slow. The problem was, Percy said that it would be ten minutes that turned into thirty and now, an hour and half later, sitting in the middle of his classmates, they were solving the questions that the teacher had given them. He knew he should be helping Percy with the task, just like the others were doing, working in pairs, but as Percy seemed happy to write alone, Nico let Percy enjoy himself, watching the serious and concentrated expression on his friend's face that finally raised his face and looked at him, smiling, as if only at that moment Percy had remembered Nico's presence.

"Sorry. I always end up doing these things by myself. I don't have the patience to wait around.”

Percy was right. The people around were writing, but they were also talking in low voices, discret but obvious.

"I promised. Let's go.”

“You can finish, I don't care.”

"I have finished.”

Percy was right once again, Nico peeked at the sheet in Percy's lap and saw that all the questions were filled with complete answers.

"Do you want to take it home and study?"

“No, thank you.”

So he got to his feet, Percy behind him, and supporting him from behind, Percy put the sheet into his bag. Nobody seemed to see them leave, only the librarian greeted them on the way out and finally they were free; the late afternoon sun was still shining, bringing some of the humidity and warmth that he missed so much. Satisfied, Nico took a few steps out of the halls towards the open courtyard and closed his eyes, letting the sun's rays gently warm his skin. Of course, soon Percy was at his side, holding his hand, as he always had. Percy's presence was always comforting, even if he could feel his friend's gaze on him.

"What?” Nico had to ask, eyes still closed.

"I held you captive, didn't I?"

"Don’t be ridiculous.” Nico nearly rolled his eyes in impatience, wanting to get out of there, but felling content in spending a few more minutes in the sun.

"Don’t get mad at me.”

“I'm not.” He almost didn't care about what Percy said, feeling the teasing tone returning with force. Because, in the end, he knew that what Percy wanted was attention.

“Hmm, no. It can't stay like this.”

Nico opened his eyes and saw that, without realizing it, they were already in the school's parking lot. That had been his biggest mistake, while he was distracted by the clear skies and nice weather, he'd missed the moment when Percy had cornered him against the wall of the parking lot and lifted his own hands and… and shoved them against his belly and abdomen, starting a tickle war. He couldn't remember the last time someone had the nerve to do that to him. In fact, Percy had been the last one, two years ago, before he traveled far away. Back then, when Nico was quiet for too long this was Percy's favorite tactic to get him to talk or react; he had to admit, he didn't miss this humiliating torture, but the touch was welcome. Contradictory, no? It seemed that anything Percy did at that moment would be welcomed.

"Percy Jackson!” He squeaked and uncoiled himself from Percy's grasp, running away from those long restless fingers. Of course he would have no peace! Percy came running after him, laughing like a maniac and with legs twice as long as his. Percy in mere minutes reached him, holding him by the waist.

"Ni-coo…" And okay, now that he analyzed things… they didn't have the most innocent banter, because the way Percy held him tight, back to chest and mouth right next to his ear… that was exactly how things used to happen in the past.

"I forgive you! I forgive you.”

"Realy? You're not saying this to then get back at me in slow and cruel ways?”

"I would never do that!”

“Liar.” Percy said in the same sweet, quiet way against his skin, looking like he wasn't going to let go of him anytime soon.

“Percy! We are not children anymore!”

"That’s very true. I don’t feel like a kid.” Percy murmured again and gave a dry chuckle that made the hairs on the back of Nico’s neck stand up. That is, before Percy turned him around and walked even closer to him, touching his forehead his own. And maybe, this gesture would be something common when they were away from prying eyes, under the covers, in the thousands times he slept at Percy's house, since only the maids and Bianca would be waiting for him at home. When they were little, it seemed kind of affectionate and innocent, but now… well… it still seemed affectionate. "Do you want dinner? The restaurant is still open.”

But how could he think about food when they were so close, breathing each other's air? When Percy's hands were on his waist and in his hair, not allowing him to look away? When Percy hugged him so tight? Their bodies pressed together and even through their clothes he could feel Percy's heat.

"Nico… Niccolas…" Why did Percy have to whisper his name like that? Why did he have to touch him like that? So strong and steady, as if he feared he was going to disappear at any moment. He… he didn't know if he was ready.

So close now... Percy's head came towards his and... and... and he let out a breath, closing his eyes.

"Food. Food is good. Right?” He swallowed hard for a moment, but when Percy did nothing but keep hugging him without moving any closer, Nico opened his eyes, seeing his intense eyes on him, burning like flames.

"You are afraid of me.” It was a statement, the light in Percy's eyes seeming to fade along with his playful smile.

"No… I don't… I'm just… not ready?"

"That's right? Or is it something else? I don't want to be one of those people.”

He understood what Percy meant. Percy would never do something to abuse his trust even if he tried. He trusted Percy, it was himself that Nico didn't trust. If he was already like this in less than twenty four hours around Percy, what would happen if he got carried away? He feared… that the obsession would return even more intense than before.

"Can we take it slow?" Nico finally managed to spit it out, feeling himself shudder.

"Sure. Everything you want.” And Percy seemed to mean it.

Percy watched him for a few more moments, as if deciding something important and took a step back, just enough to grab his waist and guide him to the car that was parked near the exit of the parking lot.

Percy opened the door for him, grabbed both of their backpacks and placed them in the backseat, quickly coming around to sit beside him, looking anxious. It wasn't that anxiety of the kind of person who was angry or irritated, it was more… someone who was full of energy and didn't know what to do with it. All Nico could do was to relax against the car seat and rest his head on the window, maybe by the time they arrived at the restaurant the tension he felt would have run off.

***

"What do you think?”

It was a very warm and welcoming place, the decor was done simply and in comfortable red tones, like something he would have seen in his deceased grandmother's house a few years ago. He felt like sitting in one of the armchairs near the reception, making himself a hot chocolate and sitting by the fireplace with a blanket over his shoulders.

"I liked.”

“I have a reservation.” Percy said all proud. It was six o'clock sharp, which meant that Percy had planned this whole thing, killing time at school to get him there on time.

"What do I do with you, huh?"

“How about saying, 'Thanks, Percy. You are so generous.”

"Is this how you hit on people?"

"It's working?”

Nico sighed and accepted the hand Percy offered, guiding him towards the maitre. The place was too specific. Other people their age probably wouldn't like the place as much as Nico had. The worst part was that he didn't hate it at all, Nico appreciated the effort Percy had put into finding something so… so like him, like he'd found a little piece of Italy just to make him feel better.

“You didn't have to.”

“I wanted you to feel welcome.” He didn't need to look at Percy to understand what those words really meant, because what Percy really meant was "I want you to feel at home so you never have to leave me."

He didn't know since when everything was so obvious. Every word and every gesture. It was like they were dancing, as if they knew each step and were just waiting for the music to end before finally… yeah, okay. He then lifted his head and faced Percy who at that moment seemed like the most perfect man in the whole world, the one Nico had always dreamed of having; kind, understanding, handsome, well dressed, so tall and strong he knew he'd never have to worry about defending himself again. But Percy had always been like that, the perfect prince. In the end, it really was obvious, wasn't it? That was the reason for his problem. No matter who he looked for, Nico would always end up in this same place, looking for Percy in every face. Maybe he should just… stop looking elsewhere.

"We can go home if you want." Percy told him, now stopping in front of him. He must have been making a fool of himself again, looking at Percy without saying anything.

“No, we can eat.” When the smile returned to Percy’s face, he knew he had made the right choice.

They followed the maitre down the row of tables until they climbed a pair of stairs and then entered a room that was larger than the floor below but emptier, filled with small round tables and more private ones at the back of the room next to large windows that let in daylight, but as night began to fall, aromatic candles were already lit out in the middle of the table.

"I hope you gentlemen approve the seats?" They waved and were soon offered the menu.

The truth was, Nico wasn't interested in food, that wasn't why they were there. Or was it? So he had decided, he would let Percy tell him.

"What do you want?” Percy asked, hands gripping the menu, but his eyes were on his, eyes that looked greener than ever under the candlelight, the dim night making the atmosphere even more intimate and personal.

"I don't know, a wine? You choose.”

Percy stared at him for a moment, seeming to consider the answer, and moved a little closer, putting an arm around his shoulder and closing the rest of the distance between them.

“I wanted to talk about us.”

“I know that.”

“I just…need to know.”

"I know that.”

“It's been ten years in this. I need to know.”

And Percy was right. They were so little and innocent back then, and then... then they were still little, but not so innocent until... until he freaked out and then Percy freaked out and he left without telling anyone. So, out of nowhere, and just as he did, out of nowhere, Percy had called him, so different from what Nico knew and so familiar at the same time that it left him confused for a long time. He remembered that for long months he only had the energy to fulfill his obligations and cling to these daily calls until he knew what to do. And here they were, practically in the same place, the difference was that now they understood what the consequences would be, no matter what the decision at the end.

"I like you.” Nico dicided for the simpler answer. He admitted that he wasn't the most assertive person or make the best choices.

“That's not what I asked.”

"I don't know. I miss you. That's enough?”

" No.” Percy said it all so seriously that he kind of... wanted to laugh. Or moan. Maybe it was a little bit of both. Nobody could blame him for that.

“So, it's up to you.”

“Nico! You said you weren't ready!”

"I'm not. I will never be. I don't want to destroy what we have. I really don't want a relationship. But…”

"Why do you have to be so confusing!"

“It's not about sex. That's the easy part.”

“Nico, I know. What can I do for you to--"

"Gods, Percy! I am the problem. I'm very unstable. You don't want to walk around with a time bomb in your pocket, do you?”

“Baby, you can explode whenever you want, as long as you explode with me.”

Nico moaned and put his hands to his face, this was ridiculous! They both knew why he was gone and they knew perfectly well why he had come back. Nico was still getting used to the idea that this time he had nowhere to run when his feelings erupted everywhere, forcing Percy to pick up the pieces.

"Can you be serious for five minutes?"

“I know all that, darling. Every little thing you think you can hide from me.”

"It will be worse than before!"

“You said I could decide.”

"Yes, but-- I want to take it slow."

"Then, let me decide. I just need your permission.”

“Permission to do what?”

Nico watched in slow motion as the hand that had been around his shoulder traveled to the back of his neck, massaging the spot, and gently pulling him closer, tilting his head until it reached just the right position for Percy's lips to finally come down against his in the sweetest, most innocent kiss he'd ever tasted.

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What did you think? I already warn you that the surprises will keep coming and that Percy and Nico are not exactly nice. Like, they're rich and that will become clearer later on. I hope it's been fun. Comments are always welcome. See you next week.

#my writing #percy jackson #percico #pernico #nico di angelo #percy/nico #there's no place like home

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masterwords · 2 years

Text

these little wonders

Summary: Derek gets a gift from someone who admires his heroic actions in New York (Coda to 4x01 - Mayhem).

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan (established)

Warnings: hotch has a concussion and minor injuries from the explosion in mayhem

Words: 2.5k

Notes: Written for @flufftober Day 4 - Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies. For the record, I don't think Derek's challenge coin collection is silly, so I more or less just went with supporting a hobby because Hotch & Morgan are both coin collectors and that's important. Today was very very stressful and when I sat down to write, I was feeling very fluffy and very sappy to make up for it.

Read on AO3: these little wonders

“You aren't supposed to be here,” Emily says quietly when Hotch walks by her. It would have been easy to simply ignore her, pretend he hadn't heard her. It wouldn't be that big a stretch, his hearing is shot after the explosion. There is a hunk of soft cotton shoved into his right ear to muffle the intensity of too loud noises. It doesn't help much but it's better than nothing. Besides, he's not even cleared for light duty yet, he's just here as a favor. Tucked neatly into a soft black polo shirt and crisp khakis, he looks unlike himself, and half of the bullpen is doing double takes when they realize who it is. His face is all scraped up and his arms are covered in patches of thick gauze to hide the intense road rash beneath, he definitely looks like he's been in an explosion. If they didn't see it, they wouldn't ask, he could avoid unwanted conversation and attention. “You hear me? I'm pretty sure you're in direct violation of...”

“I'm not here,” he replied softly, offering her a lopsided smirk. “Where is Morgan?”

“He's up in Rossi's office. They're losing it without you here. Strauss is on the warpath since he turned down that New York job...”

“She'll survive.” He paused, trying to force his scattered thoughts to line themselves up. A concussion doesn't help much in that regard. He wasn't technically evaluated for a concussion at the hospital, they were more than a little understaffed and he didn't give them an opportunity to do more than assess and stop bleeding. There was a point they told him to come back, or be seen by his primary physician, but he had no plans to do either of those things until he was on the mend. Mitigate the damage and get back to work. Still, he's a smart man. He knows he has a concussion. The confusion, the inability to focus, the constant blinding headache...he's been here before. It's unpleasant but he's managing.

“Did you drive yourself down here?” She seems genuinely concerned and it makes him stop for a moment, offer her a serious look to match the one she's giving him. She's locked and loaded, ready to give him some shit for driving...all he has to do is say the words. Except he didn't. He's the king of bad decisions but he isn't that bad.

Not yet.

“Taxi,” he replied, frowning and exasperated. The throbbing in his head is about to drop him to his knees. “There's someone meeting me here in about ten minutes, his name is...Captain Warner." He can't, for the life of him, remember the first name. Names weren't something he forgot often. His mind was like a steel trap when it came to details like that. This head injury was probably a little worse than he gave it credit for when he left his apartment. "Would you mind sending him up to my office when he arrives?”

“Captain Warner. Got it, boss.” He isn't with it enough to tell if Emily was making fun of him or being sincere, she could be hard to read at the best of times and he normally just operated under the assumption that she was always mocking him in some way. Well-intentioned, hopefully. Even if not, he'll pretend it is. Easier that way. He moves slow up the stairs, leaning a little heavily on the railing and she watches with some morbid curiosity. She knows his leg was messed up in the explosion and he does a pretty good job of hiding it, at least until it comes time to put weight on it and then it sort of bucks out from under him. He manages though.

He shuts his office door immediately. That's uncharacteristic of him, and she watches it with a strange lump in her throat. He's not here, though, he said that. He's not working so he doesn't want anyone coming in asking him for help. She can rationalize it that way, and then she won't spend her time worrying. It's easy to compartmentalize things like that now. She's always been a little too good at that.

Really, it's just that he feels like garbage and doesn't want to be bothered. He wants to sit at his desk with the lights out and rest his head on his arms and close his eyes. He's not working, he's on sick leave, it's justified. Your car exploding in your face on company time will do that.

And he has ten whole minutes to spare. Ten minutes in the quiet of his office. Not quite enough time to curl up on his couch, but enough to rest his burning eyes and throbbing head on his desk.

A knock at the door rouses him from the half-sleep he'd managed. Somewhere away from the BAU with eyes closed but not entirely without his senses, disoriented momentarily by his surroundings. That concussion business is tricky. He's got to fight his way back to the planet even after so brief a respite. The clarity comes with a familiar screeching and pounding in his ears when he stands up and the pressure changes in his miserable head. He shouldn't be here, he knows that...no one needs to explain to him that he should be in bed...but this is important.

It's for Derek.

“Captain Warner,” he says, extending one hand for a quick shake. Still can't remember his first name but looking at the man now he thinks it's probably okay. He'd probably prefer the formality. “How was your trip?”

“Uneventful. How are you holding up?”

Forced pleasantries are usually not so challenging, but Aaron's brain is full of static, and he pauses a beat too long before answering. “I've been better.” More honesty than usual slips right through the cracks, but he'll probably never see this man again so there is little to worry about as far as repercussions go. Warner only nods and says something about being blown up, like he understands all too well. Aaron doesn't catch it all through the ringing in his ears. “Been there,” he adds with a finality that eases Aaron's mind. He's glad the conversation ends there. “Is Agent Morgan in today?”

“Yes, he's just down the hall. If you don't mind, I'd rather stay in here.”

“Let's just have him in here then. I think you should be here. What he did was for you, after all.”

Aaron was hoping to let Derek have this moment in private, but Captain Warner seems to have different plans. He's not up for an argument so it's a quick call to Dave's office and soon the two men are being joined by two more who aren't really sure what they've been called for. Well, Derek was called for. Dave just didn't want to be left out.

“Dave, would you mind closing the door?” He hadn't anticipated Dave staying, but maybe it would make the whole thing a little more special. Derek deserves an audience, especially one that understands the magnitude of the gift being bestowed on him and an ex-Marine is a perfect choice. It's quick, Dave shuts the door and draws the blinds, garnering some suspicion from Emily and Spencer down in the bullpen at being left out, and then he's seating himself beside Aaron on the couch while Derek regards Captain Warner quietly. He recognizes the man with some vague, blurry sense of familiary but he isn't totally sure. It's not surprising, that whole night is a blur. From the moment he stormed down to the bar to the moment he blew up the ambulance, he'd been floating through time and space that didn't make any sense to him now. Emotions high, adrenaline, flames and blood and thundering hearts...it was less like a memory and more like an out of body experience.

No one speaks until Aaron clears his throat and indicates for them to have a seat as well. He's too dizzy to stand as long as this will take, and Dave seems content to sit beside him, but the other two don't seem interested in the couch or the chairs. They remain standing and facing one another. Aaron gives in after a moment.

“You remember Captain Warner, from the other night?” From New York, they all know that's what he means but something hitches in his chest, and he can't make those words come out. He's clearly not ready to talk about any of it. Everyone nods anyway.

“You shouted in my face,” Warner adds with a slip of a smile. It's a smile that sits in direct opposition to the formality to the way he stands, his back stick straight, his shoulders high and even. He's not at attention, not exactly, but it's close. “Never leave a man behind, you do remember that don't you?” His impression is almost perfect. This is all new to Dave. He's heard some of the stories, but he wasn't there so he almost feels like he's intruding.

Derek's features fall briefly, and he opens his mouth to apologize. It feels like he's been set up, he's being reprimanded, and he's not going to argue. Things are bad enough already. “I'm sorry about that, really, I...” But Captain Warner just shakes his head and chuckles quietly, putting his hand up all at once to stop Derek's apology. He's not here for that.

“You were absolutely right to do what you did. Orders are orders and they're meant to be followed, but they don't mean much in a situation like that, Agent Morgan. Your acts of heroism that night were commendable, you saved lives. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind. I thought about sending a letter to your Section Chief to let her know what I was thinking, and... full disclosure, it's in her inbox right now. But I know that's not enough. I wanted to come and thank you in person with this.”

He's got something small and gold in his hand, a coin sitting right in the palm. The office is dark enough that Derek can't make out the emblems right away, but with some effort his eyes focus on the golden eagle perched atop the Earth in warm gold. “The Heroes Valor Prayer,” Dave says with misty eyes, swiping quickly at tears with his middle finger. Under his breath he can recite the whole thing in time with Captain Warner while Derek takes the coin and turns it over and over in his fingers. Dave's tears are still bright when Derek matches it with tears of his own.

"This is a token of my appreciation for what you did. You saved the life of the man on the operating table, you saved people in my city, you saved your boss." He indicated Aaron, and there is a spark in Derek's eye that is unmistakable. Captain Warner understands something more, something he'd suspected that night and now knows for certain. He says nothing. "It isn't much, I'm not even sure if Challenge Coins are important outside of the service...but I hope that when you look at it you remember how many lives you impacted with your selflessness. And I hope you remember that sometimes it's the right thing to do, defying orders."

With a quick, solid handshake the coin's symbolism settles thick in the room. “Thank you, sir.” He's thinking about the ambulance, he can feel the flames that kissed his skin and the grass that softened his fall, and that bleeds into something deeper, something long buried. The weight of the coin in his hand takes him back to Chicago, the smell of exhaust and burnt coffee, his lopsided metal desk with a broken set of handcuffs propping one bent leg up. The rookie desk, everyone cycled through it. He kept his coins lined up there beside his bulky beige computer, far fewer at the time than he has now. Some of them had been his father's, he keeps those at home now, but they helped him get through those long first months on the shitty beats during the long hours of the night. The weight of one in his hand while he walked the precinct, checking on inmates, printing and booking new ones and signing some out for their transfer to prison had brought him peace. His hand closes tight around the coin before he smiles. He can smell that burnt coffee and stamp pad ink smell of his father's uniform and he's breathless.

Aaron can't take his eyes off of Derek, the way his features are lit up in the low light, the way his eyes shine bright with tears and pride for the first time in days. It's been a hell of a week and he's done nothing but get his ass chewed by everyone from the Director on down...but this, this is good. Derek deserves this and more. It's a start.

“I uh,” Derek starts quietly, his voice thick and raw. “This means a lot. I collect them. Old habits die hard...my dad was a cop, so was I...”

“Yeah? Where at?” Captain Warner seems intrigued and folds his arms over his chest, relaxing into easy conversation now that his duty is done. Derek is still playing with the coin, rolling it mindlessly from finger to finger like a magician. Over and under, over and under, the weight of it new and yet so familiar.

“Chicago P.D.”

Derek keeps his coins lined up on his desk, right where he can always see them, be reminded of where he's come from and the people he's met along the way. He'll add this coin to the display when he's ready, but for now it doesn't leave his hand, even after Captain Warner and Dave leave to go have lunch together. Dave is eager to spend some time with another Marine, and while Derek is invited all he really wants to do is stay in this office behind the closed door another minute or two with Aaron.

“Did you do this?” he asks, once they're alone. He's sitting on the couch, so close to Aaron he's practically on top of him. He wraps his arms entirely around Aaron, pulling him in close, one hand on his head until he's right there and can kiss him square on the temple. He needs a shower, but he smells good. Like warm sweaty sleep and bar soap.

“No." He's quiet, leaning in. "He called me. Said he's been trying to track you down for days so I figured we could surprise you here. I thought you could use a win...”

“From one coin collector to another, huh?”

“Something like that.” Another kiss to Aaron's temple and they both know this moment is fleeting. Derek still has work to do, they're in the BAU not at home. This isn't easy comfort...but Derek just can't let go, not yet. He's still a bit of a wreck.

“Thanks, baby.” Derek pauses, his forehead pressed up against Aaron, unwilling to break away. “Hey. Why don't you stick around? Take a nap on the couch while I finish up and then I'll drive you home. No more taxis.”

Aaron can't think of anything that sounds better. The last thing he wants to do is spend 45 minutes in a taxi as tired as he is.

The lumpy old couch will do just fine.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #criminal minds #hotchgan #fanfiction #flufftober2022 #day 4: supporting silly quirks/hobbies #aaron hotchner x derek morgan

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