#it always amuses me how at the beginning of the open road
Text
to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part ii) 」
content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention
contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, some fluff if you squint
word count ; 4.3k
notes ; at long last, here's the much waited part two! truly didn't expect the first part to blow up like it did, but i'm ever so grateful for all the support and the patience for those still here!
parts ; one two three (tba)
“Lyla, show me the nearest florist from here.”
“The nearest flower shop? That’s gonna be Business is Blooming on 27th Street—”
“27th Street?!” Miguel exclaims, his shock at the distance startling him and making his hands accidentally tighten the belt he was fixing much too tightly. He lets out a strangled choking sound and quickly loosens it before his legs lose oxygen, a feat that he’d hate to do just minutes prior to an event that could possibly change his life for the better. “That’s at least fifteen minutes away and on the opposite side of Clark! I’m already late, aren’t there any other ones closer?”
Lyla’s smaller holographic form pieces together on top of his full-body mirror that displays him in a formal-casual attire consisting of a cream turtleneck, black dress pants buckled with a coffee brown belt and topped altogether with a sepia overcoat that hadn’t seen the light of day since he bought it all those years ago. She puckers her grinning lips, a little amused at the rarity of Miguel in such an outfit and thinking he looks like a cup of coffee.
“Well, there’s always that crowded grocery store on Main?” she suggests as she examines her fingernails, instantly changing the pattern of them with a snap of her fingers. “But that’s gonna cost ya another twenty minutes and you’re already what—? Ten minutes late?”
Miguel fights off a groan at her teasing. “Lyla, I’m serious. Are there genuinely not any other ones around here? Any local ones? C’mon, this is Nueva York, there has to be at least one.”
“You could always try the marketplace. But then again, it’s Sunday so might not really be wise to take your chances,” Lyla shrugs.
Miguel even wonders if men these days still even have the dignity to give their partners flowers after realizing there is a significant lack of florists in today’s day and age. He wouldn’t be like them; flowers are a timeless gift everyone enjoys and he thinks if he can’t get it for you, he might as well not call himself a man at all.
His eyes go to spot the window in the reflection of the mirror where the sun is beginning to finally set and the city’s nightlife is rising from the dead. Buildings of all heights buster from every corner and the open road that eradicates much of the land dissolves a weary pit in his stomach, obviously annoyed at the many obstacles that block his path. Miguel takes another glance at the clock, the minute hand inching closer and closer and closer to 6:00. The initial plans were to leave the apartment by 5:30, acquire some gifts for you and then travel to the restaurant by 6:00, but seeing as how he’s still trapped in his abode, Miguel thinks that he can only do so much.
But he realizes that’s for Miguel O’Hara, renowned Alchemax geneticist and full-time father. Miguel O’Hara, an everyday citizen, couldn’t possibly crunch so much in such little time.
For Spider-Man, however…
Lyla eyes him suspiciously and purses her lips when Miguel looks at his wrists and then at the window again. “I don’t think that’s wise, Miguel.”
“What’s wise?” he replies coyly, going to quickly shovel off his clothes to replace them with a familiar blue and red attire.
“I know whatcha gonna do,” Lyla says and glitches around him as he searches for his suit. “But it’s not gonna end well, I’m tellin’ ya right now, mister!”
Miguel shakes her caution off, too occupied with shuffling on his superhero suit onto his body before neatly tucking his other outfit into his hammerspaced pocket. “It’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to get her some flowers and then I’ll be on my way. Lock up the house for me, yeah?”
“You’re not gonna make it,” Lyla shakes her head. “Just ditch the flowers and get her something on the way instead.”
But the last of Lyla’s words don’t make it to Miguel’s ears, as he’s already slinging and gliding himself out of the window and toward the given address of the florist. Lyla can only watch in artificial disdain as Miguel’s figure grows smaller and smaller through the passing seconds. She sighs, rolling her eyes as she flickers off the apartment lights before disintegrating.
The roar of the city life grows louder and louder the more Miguel comes closer to the center of it where the flower shop lays. People gather in clusters bustling about all over, making him a little weary of himself as he stares at them from above a high tower. He’s not exactly an ordinary passerby that can easily maneuver their way through so easily—especially not with this getup. Spider-Man is also a name that rather became widespread across the city of Nueva York, meaning that even if one person were to see the flash of blue and red, he’s up for trouble.
The evildoers tonight seem to be at cease, thankfully. He hasn’t heard of any malicious plotting or future events that will take place today by any of the supervillains that hunt him down like deer recently. Then again, there’s always smaller crimes still waiting to be stopped, but he’s sure the cops will come around for those. Miguel convinces himself it’ll just be a one time thing.
Yet when the familiar song of police sirens blare through the city, he twitches at the thought of leaving such miscreants in the hands of police when he’s sure he can take them down like an army of ten men.
But the police have ten men on them, so truly he can just leave it alone, right? He’s essentially in front of the flower shop that’s seated below an apartment building. All he has to do is just jump down, get the flowers, and leave in the nick of time. He doesn’t have time to dilly dally with low-rated criminals.
Then again, when he spots the gang of robbers in two white vans speeding down the road at a blistering speed without any caution for pedestrians, Miguel grits his teeth. On their tail is a rally of five police cars that keep gaining and losing them by the second and Miguel isn’t sure whether the irritation was from his indecisiveness or the fact that if he didn’t do anything, there will be consequences.
Perhaps do both to ease his mind? No, he can’t do that. You’re most likely on your way to the restaurant, all dolled up and fresh-faced. He still would need the time to fix himself up in some dingy public bathroom. A cop car that’s been hiding in the corner joins the chase—that’s surely more than enough to take care of them?
Miguel’s eyes go back and forth... back and forth between the two sights. Anxiety is doing little to help his situation and a mist of sweat begins to form on his skin the more the seconds tick by, making the innermost part of his suit much more uncomfortable and moist. A clock hangs by an awning nearby that displays the haunting time of 6:03 PM, just twenty-seven minutes shy of the designated 6:30 meeting time.
He glances one more time at the chase, swallowing a thick lump in his throat when he sees the vans hurdle full speed toward an open street of walking pedestrians, all ignorant of the fact to what beholds them in just mere seconds.
Miguel curses under his breath.
It’ll only be this for today, no more after that.
Fatigued eyes go to watch as the last people leave the restaurant, leaving you isolated in your little corner both embarrassed and hungry due to the heavy lack of food served on your platter for tonight. The other waiters begin to scrub the tables and booths free of crumbs and topple the chairs onto them, indicating that tonight has drawn to its close. You think you’ve memorized the entirety of the menu at this point, considering it’s really all you’ve been averting your eyes towards to avoid the looks of others.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the waiters and waitresses pitifully gossiping about you and a heat flashes onto your face by how incredibly desolate you’ve looked in the past three hours. Internally, you thank them for their patience and how they’ve tolerated your excuses for your date’s tardiness-turned-absence, knowing that it must be a pain to look after someone that hadn’t even ordered anything besides water for the time she had been here.
You don’t even wait for your waitress to come to your table for the nth time tonight, going by your own initiative to pack up your things. Your phone is still devoid of any notifications from Miguel, as well, even after the four calls, occasional text checkups, and last minute voicemailed question of a needed rescheduling if he so desired.
What remains is just a grayed out Read, 7:47 PM underneath all the text bubbles.
“I… sincerely apologize if I loitered at all,” you murmur with your head half-down to the young host who shuffles the menus back into the lectern. “This was truly the last thing that I had expected from him…”
You instantly take back that statement the moment it leaves your lips. If anything, you should’ve known that this would’ve happened. Foolish you were—you’ve been with Miguel for the past three years, this was everyday behavior for him. You suppose this is how Gabriella must feel constantly and another heartache pits itself within you at the shared feeling.
The host shakes his head sympathetically. “You wouldn’t be our first case, I’m sure you didn’t have any ill intent. If anything, I’m the one sorry that he made you wait that long,” he replies with evident pity. “Whoever he is, he must be a dick for leaving such a pretty thing like you alone all night, ma’am.”
“Oh, he’s—” you fall short on your words, not even having the energy to sorely defend Miguel’s name. “Never mind…” you mutter.
“Do you need a cab?” asks the host, “Well actually, I’m about to clock out for tonight. I can drive you home, if you want. It’s the least I can do for you after tonight.”
You’re about to reply to him to turn down the offer, as you suspect he’s the type of guy to use women in these situations to his advantage, but the doors suddenly burst open to reveal the one and only in a hazy state and what seems to… flowers clutched in his hands? The petals, however, are corrugated and some have even completely drooped down from their stem. The paper that is supposed to guard them is wrinkled and torn at the corners. Almost all of the bouquet is wilted, much like your own composure for tonight.
Miguel isn’t much better. Hair and clothes a little damp, he’s frazzled and evidently guilty, as his face pales when he sees your contrasting appearance. You’re adorned in an a-lined, half-sleeved royal blue dress that made you look so regal in comparison to your daily white blouse-black pants outfit that he's seen too much of. Not to mention additional details of your styled hair and accessories just brought out the best of your beauty that was wasted on essentially nothing this evening.
“Mr. O’Hara…” you breathe when he passes through the door. The first thing that you notice automatically when his face properly comes into view is a sharply jagged, yet thin cut on the side of his cheek. “Did someth—”
“(Y/N), I’m so… so sorry,” he chokes out. “Something c-came up at work and they asked me to help them out… I’m sorry, I know I should’ve said no, but they were kind of on my ass about it and I got so caught up with it, so I wasn’t able to text you and—”
“She waited three hours,” the host drones and juts his thumb toward the dining area where all the chairs are laid atop the tables. Its lights flicker out, leaving only the foyer and smaller hallways lit so dismally in the night. “Until closing. She didn’t order anything in the meantime, so not only you left her alone tonight, you left her alone and hungry.”
“Hey listen, bud,” Miguel snaps at the host. He points a finger at him with irate in his eyes. “Not your business, so stay out of it.”
The host scoffs with a smirk on his face. “Not the first time I’ve heard that and certainly not the first time I’ve seen this happen. Guys like you always—”
You raise a hand to stop their bickering, afraid of what might happen if things escalate further as you really didn’t desire to do anything more than just sleep off your feelings. Both men stop and turn to look at you with concern on their faces.
“Do you still need that ride home?”
“Are you still hungry?”
A frustrated head shake finally silences the both of them.
“I’m fine, thank you for the offer, though,” you say quietly to the host. You turn to Miguel, who swallows at the sight of your tired eyes. “May we talk outside? I’d hate to stay here any longer than I need to.”
Miguel attempts to excuse himself one more time, but when you begin to pace yourself toward the door without waiting for him, he realizes he can’t exactly make any more decisions of his own any more this evening. Not after choosing his heroic duties again and again for tonight instead of tending to you.
The moon and stars tonight have made their presence with the special guest of light rain coming in for a visit. The whisper of a drizzle ghosts itself on your goosebumps skin and the chill of a wind nips at your flesh.
Miguel is quick to follow you. “I’m really sorry again, (Y/N),” he utters so softly that it makes your heart ache with familiarity. It’s the same tone of voice he’s used with Gabriella when at times, he wasn’t able to make it to her events or practices like he promised. “Are you still hungry by any chance? I know a good 24/7 diner that’s pretty close here.”
Without turning around, you politely shake your head and begin to search for any cabs coming your way. “I’ll be okay. I think I have some leftovers in the fridge that can suffice.”
The thought of you eating alone like he did on a night that you shouldn’t be sends shivers of guilt down Miguel’s spine. He curses himself at his past actions—deciding that it was stupid to catch those robbers who didn’t even put up much of a fight, to stop that gang brawl that was happening on the corner of 5th that was resolved the moment the elderly shopkeeper began to yell, to help that old lady that was certainly taking her sweet time to cross the street. They were such unbelievably mild crimes that he didn’t need to attend to, but did anyway even with the thought of you in mind.
Perhaps he should’ve had more faith in technology, because he’s sure Lyla was going to have much fun taunting him for the rest of the week.
“You can keep the flowers, too,” you say softly when a cab begins to pull up. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think I have a vase to store them in unfortunately.”
Miguel’s grip on the dismal bouquet tightens, not even trying to fight your refusal as you get into a cab. He stops the door from closing just as you’re about to, trying one last time to make up for his actions.
“At least let me pay for your cab,” Miguel whispers.
You know he’s sorry. You can see in his eyes the familiar gleam of woe that he’s given to his daughter. Your eyes go to flicker at the cut again, but you know that if you ask, he’s sure to give one his many excuses because it isn’t the first time he’s shown up with an injury before. And you don’t want to put yourself through that wall of verbal familiarity.
With sorrow gentleness, you pry his fingers off the edge of the car and shut it, putting a physical barrier between you and Miguel. The eyes of the driver goes to pitifully glance at your state before beginning to rev up the engine.
You don’t even have the courage to share a glance towards Miguel one last time before the cab begins to drive off—your wallow of disappointment is deep enough as it is.
The rest of the week is agonizingly slow; Miguel dares to say it’s torturous, even.
He’s thankful you’re still acknowledging his existence and talking with him, but your conversations lack the usual warmth and gentle playfulness they often had. It was already lonely enough dealing with the lack of a third person like him at home, but the feeling of isolation felt even more scarring this time because when he came home late after your babysitting session, you didn’t bother with small talk with him, the only thing that made him realize he didn't have to do everything by himself alone.
You didn’t ask how the late shift was, how were the bosses treating him, if he was getting enough rest… no, you only kept him updated on his daughter's schoolwork and any future events regarding her and her only. Your words never included him or you, only finishing off with a goodbye and have a nice night.
At least you were still kind enough to fix him the usual leftovers.
Work itself wasn’t much better. Conversations were brief and the lab in which you two worked privately was filled with silence that was only broken with the occasional demands and directions of lab work. Sometimes a forced cough would sneak its way through Miguel’s lips if the silence began to disturb him too much. He attempted to make some at the beginning, asking how your day was and whether your father was on your tail again, but he was met with short, sharp responses.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Perhaps.”
“I’m not sure.”
Never have such words been so agonizing before. Ironic that they are because Miguel often hated it when people rambled and preferred it when conversations got to the point. He supposes, though, you get to the point too fast for his liking nowadays.
When he tried bringing up an explanation for Sunday’s events, you’d quickly shut it down as tenderly as possible, saying things along the lines of “It’s alright, your schedule is hectic. I can understand.” or “I just hope your work didn’t give you too much trouble.” You’re so polite about it that it hurts him. Miguel would much rather have you lash out and insult him than have you soften the landing that does barely anything to ease him because it feels like you’ve put on that mask you put in front of others—professional and orderly—and Miguel didn’t want to be seen as just a mere coworker, let alone your boss, to you.
His pride bites at his ankles. Lies coming out of his lips too regularly, he had to fib to Gabriella the morning after her sleepover when she asked about the date that you had fallen sick and weren’t able to make it. The disappointment on her face mimicked yours too eerily. She asked him if they were going to reschedule it. Miguel could only shrug his shoulders—he wasn’t even sure if you wanted anything to do with him after that event.
At least nothing changed with you and his daughter. He’d still home to an apartment with you helping with homework or her helping with dinner or tucking her into bed. That’s all he could ask for right now.
Miguel still had the chance to redeem himself this week. There was the annual banquet held at a banquet hall to celebrate the yearly achievements Alchemax and those associated had accomplished, as well as discussing major plans for the future. It was a boring, yet formal event used for connections and idle chatter, something Miguel usually didn’t look forward to. Lyla suggested to him to convince you to go and that Gabriella would just have a one-time babysitter while you got to enjoy (or in your case, put up) with his company as he redeemed himself best as possible. You’re not one to talk with others you’ve never met, so he knew that you would most likely stick by his side for a sense of familiarity.
It took a while, but you murmured you’d go under your breath to shake him off your tail. Miguel was elated, but it was quickly shut down halfheartedly by the reminder that you were still somewhat upset by Sunday’s incident, saying you’d take a cab to the banquet instead of driving with him like he offered.
No matter, as long as you were there by his side.
Miguel made sure that this time, he’d be out the door much earlier than the last, promising to never keep you waiting longer than a minute. A text on his phone pings that you’re near the back entrance, where the parking lot was so it’d be easier to find you. He swerves a little too harshly into the lot—either from nervousness or excitement or both—at the mention and had spotted you near the staircase adorned in a floor-length blushed, ivory pink halter gown with luminescent tulle, making you look like the human embodiment of an ocean pearl.
His eyes are so fixed on you that he didn’t realize he almost knocked himself straight into an oncoming BMW. The owner, a crabby old man he recognizes from human resources, swears and honks at him, making Miguel hide his face before hurriedly parking a little more safely.
When he approaches you, he drinks you in your full glory. Everything about you is so fresh… so exhilarating. You’ve done your hair with a couple of clips this time, with more subtle jewelry this time. Your makeup looks tidy and perfect and Miguel enjoys the way it emphasizes your best features instead of morphing them. If only he was wiser on Sunday, he would’ve been able to savor a different version of you in blue.
Nevertheless, you still manage to take his breath away with just a simple breath like you always have. It’s just that it was only recently had Miguel realized you had that ability and he’d be alright experiencing it again and again if it was with you.
“Mr. O’Hara?” you say and wave a soft wave in front of his face to break his trance. Somehow, you begin to grow self-conscious. Perhaps he didn’t like it? Maybe it was too revealing… the slit at the halter neckline did somewhat peek at your cleavage and you weren’t used to baring your shoulders out. “I-is everything okay?”
Miguel blinks a couple of times. His surroundings finally come into focus like your figure, making him realize how long he had been staring. “Apologies. I… never got to tell you this on Sunday, but I hope to do it now, (Y/N)... ” he clears his throat and straightens his posture, remembering to act everything out as practiced, before softly whispering with evident fondness that, “You look beautiful, tonight.”
A spark of surprise shocks your features for a brief moment, before your usual modesty is displayed again. Eye contact is broken, for you can’t fathom the thought of someone like Miguel O’Hara, favored in every possible way, would be complimenting you so casually. “Oh um. Thank you,” you choke out halfheartedly.
Miguel leans over slightly over your figure and tucks a lock of stray hair behind your ear. If he wanted to truly make up for what happened, he was going to have to go all out tonight, even if that meant rocketing out of his comfort zone. He just barely catches you hitching a breath at the semi-intimate of physical contact as he tries his best to hide his own when he murmurs in your ear again.
“I’m not saying it out of manners, I’m saying it factually,” he mumbles, eyeing the passersby that stare in wonder at you. Some ego swells inside of him at the jealous looks that are given to him. “You’ve bewitched me and many others already.”
You stray your gaze away at him with your hands fiddling at the skirt of your dress. “You didn’t have to, but thank you for the dress, by the way,” you murmur timidly. “I’ve never heard of a brand called Lyla, but I admit, this dress of theirs is rather nice.”
Miguel furrows his brows at the mention before Lyla briefly appears on your head, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up before disappearing. It doesn’t take Miguel long to realize that Lyla had shipped something so pristine to you without his permission, though he supposes that she had done him and you a favor given how majestic you look tonight.
He lets out a soft breath of a chuckle before shaking his head. Maybe he’ll give her some upgrades in return.
You turn your head behind you, not knowing what he was looking at. “Is something wrong? Is there something in my hair?”
“No, no. Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts…” Miguel interjects before offering his arm to you. “We should get going. I’d hate for a dress like this to go to waste for only my eyes.”
Internally, Miguel wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be greedy and have you all for himself, savor your every move tonight, have you and him be the only ones in this place. He didn’t want anyone to look towards your direction and have you look at anyone else besides him. A little venomous thought of people not realizing you had so much more potential than they realized embeds in himself, and that their awe for tonight was too artificial. He wanted more and to give you more, but then again, he’s still Spider-Man at the end of the day, the impossible man that somehow does it all and faces the consequences head on. He can only offer a regular day citizen like you so much.
But for now, he’ll make do with what he can. Not as Spider-Man this time, but as Miguel O’Hara.
a/n ; hi yeah don't panic, there'll be a part three lmfao i lied lolol. most likely it'll be the last part to this little series i've got going, too, since i think making it a fully fledged series would kind of lead some things astray for me. that doesn't mean the end of the miggy o'hare writings, however! still will most definitely attempt to write for him bc bro's GLORIOUS
thank you all for the patience for part ii, and i hope to see that part iii comes out asap! i'll give updates for it as always, but in the meantime, thank you for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and infinitely appreciated ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ !
taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @toofsfairys @raeisthebae (for those with strikethroughs, i'm not able to tag you for some reason :(!)
#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spider verse#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara smut#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#atsv miguel#across the spider verse x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#fem!reader
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Can I request "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." For Gale with female reader please?
Ahhhhh tysm for requesting! You are my first request! Since you didn't give any specifics about the time frame, I just assumed you wanted it to take place within the events of the game, but it didn't really matter anyway. The reader is left undescribed, though it is implied that she is shorter than Gale. I hope I did your request justice, and let me know what you think!
Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."
Rating: E
Warnings: I got carried away and made "spicy" into straight up smut... oops? oral (f!receiving), porn with very little plot, smut
Flirting with Gale was a dangerous game. The back and forth we had going on had been constant, never pausing. I loved bantering with him, but the consistent pull back was beginning to kill me.
Harmless flirts with friends are fun, but I had made it abundantly clear to the wizard that it was more than just friendly banter. And as far as I'm concerned, he's been returning that same energy. And yet, every time we get past the line of flirtatious remarks and balance on the edge of action, he would completely pull away. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was afraid of intimacy.
At first I thought he just didn't like me that way, only wanted to banter with nothing coming of it. But something in the way his eyes glittered when he looked at me told me my attraction was not one sided.
When I went to the others for advice, they gave me jack shit. Astarion thought it was hilarious that I was asking him for romantic advice. I had to threaten to cut off his blood supply just to get him to quite yelling about it. Karlach just told me to "fuck it out," whatever that means. Shadowheart just kind of stared at me blankly. I didn't even bother asking Lae'zel, because I value my life. Wyll had good intentions, but he ended up rambling on about proper courtship methods and respectfully, I couldn't care less.
I had exhausted all of my options, which left me with the one thing I had been avoiding: talk to Gale about it.
It was a cool night, a nice change from the overwhelming heat that had layered over our group the last few nights. The day had been uneventful for once, little more than a few ambushes along the roads and some cackling hyenas. The mood around camp was significantly light than usual, everyone content with the lack of carnage.
I didn't give myself much time to rethink my actions, deciding to force myself into the conversation before I could chicken out.
Gale sat in his tent, reading a book with the doors pinned open for anyone to enter. He always stayed awake later than the others, often waiting until everyone else had closed their tents for the night to follow suit. He thought nobody noticed, but it was one of the many things that made me gravitate towards him. He was so naturally protective, unknowingly watching out for everyone.
As always, I took a moment to admire him before he noticed my presence. He looked so calm, contently scanning the pages of the tome in his hands. His everlasting yearning for knowledge was something I couldn't help but admire. I watched as his fingers curled under the parchment of the book and gently flipped the page, hands calloused from years of magical studies.
Gods, his hands that were so veiny and strong, rough but gentle, perfect to glide across my skin and make me shiver with-
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I jumped at the sound of his voice, my thoughts that had previously consumed me dissipating. My face felt hot, blushing as if he was able to read my runaway thoughts. "Hi!"
I internally scolded myself for how not-smooth I was being. He carefully marked his place in the book before setting it aside, still seated in his chair as he looked up at me expectantly. His lips twitched into an amused smirk. Handsome bastard knows exactly what he does to me.
"Did you need something from me?"
I tilted my head at his question, blinking as my thoughts grew a mind of their own. I need you to kiss me until I can't breath. Touch me all over and make me shake with pleasure. I shook my head, gathering my thoughts before saying: "Just... wanted to talk to you about something."
He raised an eyebrow, an action that would have had me down on my knees if I had even just a tad bit less dignity. "Is it... a good something, or a bad something?"
My heart started racing in my chest, blood rushing in my ears. "Uhm... well, I suppose it depends. I think it's a good something, but, well, I can't speak for you..."
He stood from his seat, his movements quick but not aggressive. He always took care to control his actions, never making them seem offensive or startling. My eyes widened slightly when he reached behind me to unpin the tent flaps and let them fall closed, his frame slightly hovering over me for a moment as he did so.
His expression was open, concern and care written all over his face. "You can always talk to me. I'm here to listen."
Good gods I want to suck his dick until his brain explodes.
I cleared my throat and shifted nervously, looking up at him. "Right! So, I just... well, I was talking to the others about- actually that's not a good place to start, uhm..."
His amused smirk didn't go unnoticed. He had always liked when I got nervous, especially if he was the reason. "Take your time, darling."
Fucking Hells, he is trying to kill me.
I fought the urge to avert my gaze, forcing myself to keep eye contact. "Uhm, so, you know how we... well, obviously you know, but I mean- Fuck's sake, I mean to say, you know how we, like, flirt?"
His expression didn't falter, smirk growing into a knowing grin. He hummed an acknowledgement that sent vibration through my body, making my heart race even faster. His gaze flickered over my face, then quickly swept down my body, almost fast enough to miss.
"Well, I- Not that I don't like it, I love it! I- I mean, I don't want it to stop I just- Gods damnit, I just wanted to ask- shit... Why don't you just fucking kiss me already?!"
The silence that followed my stuttering words was overwhelming, blanketing over me and making me want to melt away into the earth to never be seen again. My embarrassment only worsened when I heard the slightest chuckle from the man in front of me. My heart dropped as every worst case scenario ran through my head.
He's going to laugh at me, tell me it was just for fun, that he would never want to be with me, he's going to make fun of me to everyone else-
"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I would be able to stop."
I was suddenly aware of how hot it was in the close quarters of the canvas tent, and how Gale was only a few inches in front of me. I brought my eyes up to meet his, blinking rapidly as I tried to process what he just said. His stare held mine, a underlying air of vulnerability in his confession. With a shaky breath, I managed to utter out my response.
"Who said you had to stop?"
His lips crashed against mine within seconds of my hushed words, heated kiss melding our lips together. His hands, his gorgeous hands that I had spent weeks fantasizing about, were gripping my waist and pulling my body flush against his. My mouth moved in sync with his so naturally, so smoothly, that we could have been made for each other.
When I realized my hands were idle, I quickly remedied it and wrapped my arms around his neck. I didn't even notice I was tangling my fingers in his hair until I tugged lightly and was rewarded with a soft groan against my lips. The noise spurred me on, and I nipped at his lip lightly. Soon, our tongues were wildly clashing together, breathing heavy as involuntary sounds of pleasure were exchanged within the kiss.
I yelped when he suddenly lifted me off the ground, hands firmly gripping my ass as he held me. I held onto him, giggling into the kiss as he pressed against me. The stiffness of his arousal against my thigh was enough to make me shiver with anticipation, and he noticed.
He pulled away from my lips reluctantly, settling his forehead against mine. "As much as I want to do this," he glanced down at our positioning, my core level with his growing erection, "I want our first time to be something special."
I tried not to show my disappointment, silently nodding as I prepared myself to drop back onto the floor. As I loosened my thighs from his waist, I squeaked in surprise when his hands roughly squeezed my ass. "Ah ah, I didn't say I was doing to leave you wanting, did I?"
My cheeks reddened as I realized what he was implying. "Oh, Gale, you don't have to-"
"I want to. Trust me, I really, really want to."
His words were drawn out, almost a moan as he pleaded. His darkened eyes were practically begging. "I... If you're sure-"
He cut me off with a searing kiss, turning us around and laying me down on his bedroll. My whole body tingled with excitement as his body hovered over mine, lips desperately kissing down my neck. With the way he was panting as he nipped and kissed down my body, I could almost say he was more excited then me.
His stare was piercing as he looked up from my waist, silently asking for permission. I couldn't help but smile as his fingers grazed the waistband of my pants, impatiently fidgeting with the fabric. "Yes, please, Gale."
He all but tore them off, taking both my pants and underwear off in one go. His hot breath tickled my arousal, and I sighed as his hands lightly caressed the insides of my thighs. His touches were gentle, slow movements spreading open my legs and bearing my glistening entrance to him. I tilted my head up to look down at him, only to find his gaze transfixed between my legs. He practically whimpered his next words: "So fucking pretty for me."
I couldn't help but moan at his words, the heat of his breath ghosting over my clit. His eyes broke away for a moment to look at me, and he gave me a smile that made my heart swell before he dove in.
His beard rubbed against my thighs as his lips and tongue explored my cunt, the burn of his jaw emphasizing the blinding pleasure of his mouth. He moaned against me as he licked a long stripe along my folds, the teasing sensation sending a jolt of want through me. Before I could beg for more, his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking gently as he teased a finger at my entrance.
All coherent thought was left behind, all I could think about was Gale, Gale eating my pussy, moaning into me, rutting into the air as he pleasured me. "Fuck, Gale, please!"
He hummed against me, the vibration adding to the pleasure. He slipped a finger into my dripping hole, pulling his mouth away from my clit to look up at me. "Look at you, darling, so wet and ready for me."
I moaned as he pumped his finger, keeping eye contact with him. When he teased a second one, I couldn't stop my head from falling back with a moan. "Please!"
With a soft groan, he did as I asked. "As you wish."
The stretch of his second finger burned deliciously, his pace torturously slow. My walls pulsed around him, the softest parts of me jolting as he brushed against them. His thumb brushed against my clit as he quickened his pace. I reached out a shaky hand, tangling my fingers in his soft hair and tugging him forward.
He moaned at the tug, immediately replacing his thumb with his mouth. My back arched off the bedroll as he sucked harshly, his fingers brushing against all the right spots. He teased another finger, and my grip in his hair harshened. It must have encouraged him, because he soon plunged a third finger inside of me and relentlessly flicked his tongue over my clit as he finger fucked me.
My thighs began to constrict around him, orgasm fast approaching. He groaned against my cunt, gripping my thighs open and speeding up. "Fuck, I'm close!"
Another hum against me had my walls pulsating, orgasm crashing through me as he coaxed me down with his tongue sending overwhelming jolts of pleasure through me.
He gently removed his fingers, caressing my thigh as he swept his tongue through my folds, gathering my arousal. His gentle movements soothed me through the slight overstimulation as he cleaned me up with his tongue. My vision was unfocused, aftershocks still rolling through my body as he finally pulled away, slowly kissing up my body before planting a sweet kiss on my lips. I chased his kiss as he pulled back, and he chuckled as I pouted. "You did so well for me, love."
I whined at his words, desperately clawing him towards me and pulling him into a slow, sensual kiss. His clothed erection prodded my bare thigh, and he groaned when I shifted against it. "Don't tease me, darling."
I smiled up at him, tilting my head. "Is that a threat?"
He gave an amused hum against the skin of my neck, speaking between soft kisses. His words were teasing, yet heavy with intention.
"It's a promise."
#fem!reader#bg3 gale#baldur's gate 3#bg3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale x reader#x reader smut#one shot#afab reader#azi's creations#female reader#x reader#baldur's gate iii#baldurs gate 3#bg3 x reader#request
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What if… Sam had a sibling who is very chaotic!!!! And they survive through out the Bayverse movies and when they meet Hound, Crosshairs and Drift, how would those 3 react to the crazy lil human?!? ;-;
(Could you possibly add Optimus Prime and Bumblebee!?)
Okay this is the first ever request I answer, kinda nervous tbh.
Hope you like it, and thanks for requesting^^
It's called Haiku...
Also, I don't know what pictures to add lmao
About this fic: sfw, gn reader, takes place in aoe
901 words
Sitting in the passenger's seat, squished next to Shane, you look out the window.
Sure, it was uncomfortable, but there were only 3 seats for the 4 of you.
You didn't say anything though, after they had just lost their friend, complaining would be of no use.
So you watch the wide desert landscape going by.
A white truck drove by on the other side of the road, but you didn't pay that much attention to it.
That's when the truck you four were in started rumbling. At first you didn't know what was going on, but when the seats shifted back roughly, the worn down leather replaced by more comfortable fabric seats you kind of got an idea.
"A man of taste I see. Western Stars are pretty nice.", you complimented, after seeing the symbol on the steering wheel, before the autobot logo took its place.
You opened the window to take a look at the Prime's new altmode.
Red flames across the blue paintjob, and everything was just so shiny.
"I must say, you looking good Prime!", you laugh, sticking your head back in.
"It was awesome but it was insane!", you heard Shane yell out excitedly.
The Prime's deep voice echoed over the radio, calling for his Autobots.
"I wonder If I'll see Bumblebee again. I missed that guy."
"Bumblebee?", Cade asked.
"Yeah, he's an Autobot don't worry. He's no giant insect, if that's what you thought about."
The man just raised an eyebrow at you, making Tessa chuckle in amusement.
After a few more minutes of driving you all got out of the truck, after Optimus opened the doors for you.
"Your dad is nice, but he needs to relax a lil...", you whisper to Tessa.
"He sure does, but he's trying his best."
"Never doubted that, don't worry.", you add, nudging her arm gently.
Optimus transformed, being greeted by his bots.
"Mr. free leader of the galaxy. I knew you'd make it. I never doubted it."
"Just who are these guys...", you mumble, looking around.
The green one with what looks like a cape suddenly turned to point his guns at you.
"Oh okay, that one feels like killin today...", you say, raising you arms sarcastically.
When the biggest one started lifting his guns was when you started sweating though.
But having fate on your side, like always, Optimus stopped them.
"Thanks Prime, I thought I was done for this time."
"🎶...Survivor! 🎶", Bee's Radio echoed.
"What's he mean by that now?", Hound asked, adjusting his cigar.
"We go way back. I saw Megatron so many times already. He nearly killed me twice but meh, still alive and kicking"
"Wait, aren't you that human from the fight in-?", Drift turned to ask.
"Chicago? Yeah, I've been there. Threw a brick at Megs myself.", you interrupted, proud of your past actions, arms crossed before your chest. "I've been there since the beginning. When it was just about a pair of glasses from my crazy great grandfather."
"They have fought with us. They're the only human I know I can trust."
"Rude...", Shane mumbled under his breath.
"I mean, how'd a squishy survive all that?!", Hound asked into the round of Cybertronians and humans
"Who you callin squishy?! I'm not the big one here."
"Pff, that's just armor. I'm as fast as a horse!"
"Well first of, it's as healthy as a horse. And also, it's none of your damn business how I survived all the shit I've been through. Because honestly, I don't even know myself. Maybe I'm just lucky"
You shrug, looking up at Optimus, who's serious demeanor made your heart sink.
He's always been serious yes, but a kind soul. Always open for questions.
Now he's just, well... dark.
"Well, but I'm sure as hell gonna survive this, so when we startin?!"
"Enthusiasm, I like it.", Crosshairs mentioned, spinning a gun in his servo, before tucking in back into his belt.
"🎶Where have youuuu been?!🎶", Bumblebee sang over the radio.
"Oooh, Rihanna, you got some mad taste Bee!"
Sticking your hands into the pockets of your worn down jeans, you look up at the yellow and black bot, who's optics were fixed on you.
"Well, after Chicago I needed a new place to stay. So I applied to work in a different hospital. And it led me to Austin, Texas."
You laugh
"In the good ol' south", you say, mocking the southern accent.
"I think I like that one", Hound says, leaning back against a rock wall.
"They have what it takes, like sunset colors on blue,
strength guts and virtue.", Drift added.
"If this is another hiku I swear Imma blow you to shreds...", Crosshairs murmured, turning to walk away.
"It's called Haiku!", you correct him.
"What?", he mumbled annoyed.
"I don't care what it's called. I just want to leave this place."
"Well, I like it, thank you.", you say to Drift, smiling at the bot.
In this moment of peace, it was of course Crosshairs who needed to add something unnecessary.
"Nah, it's lame"
Without warning, Drift jumped at him, swords drawn, ready to attack.
"And I thought I was crazy...", you whisper to Bee, rolling your eyes.
The bot snickered.
"Lord may you give me strength to not make anyone here short circuit on purpose..."
You squint your eyes, thinking.
"I don't even know their names yet... Wow"
"🎶Still don't know your name🎶"
"Oh you're right tho Bee.", you laugh
#transformers x reader#request#bayverse drift#bayverse crosshairs#bumblebee#optimus prime#Bayverse Hound
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[🌺] hi Aiden Clark lovers!! (and anyone interested lol)
quick question for y’all,
if I were to write a Aiden Clark x reader fanfiction and post it on Wattpad (and or maybe here depending on how many are interested), would you guys read it? I provided an excerpt and additional details of the story so you guys can read my writing style and get the flow of the story. Its just an a portion I took out from my story.
Would this be something you’d guys like to read more about? I just wanna know whether or not I should actually publish it 😭
Thank you sm and have a good one!! <3
excerpt and additional details below cut
feel free to skip, this is just a brief introduction
welcome to tunnel vision by @PR0D13Y
Aiden Clark x Reader
★﹒WARNINGS | gore, violence, death, mentions of bullying, angst, trauma, manipulation, kinda absent parents. (NONE OF THIS IS MENTIONED IN THIS EXCERPT THOUGH)
…As I gazed at my phone, my anticipation was bubbling for a response back. I waited at least two minutes until it dawned on me that she had deliberately left me on delivered. With a scoff, I tucked my phone into my jacket pocket.
I loved Ashlyn, truly I did, but there were moments when her actions got on my nerves. Take now, for instance. Every time I tried to talk with her on a deeper level, she always pushes me away. While I understand that she craves space, her cold demeanor towards me has yet to unfrost, even after seven years from once we first met. We are inseparable, at least in the eyes of others. But in reality, there always seemed to be an invisible wall between us when we talked…
I sighed as I equipped my helmet and mounted my motorcycle, a sleek black base adorned with line art in my favorite color, a cherished gift from my parents on my sixteenth birthday. I gave the bike a pat, murmuring,
"Just you and me, buddy." Glancing at my hand, I hesitated as if waiting for a response that never came… The silence clung onto the morning horizon, leaving a distance feeling of emptiness inside of me.
With a roar, I ignited the engine and maneuvered onto the main road from my driveway, the morning breeze caressing my skin. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a gentle glow on the indigo sky. It felt like a moment of pure freedom from worries and thoughts, just me and the open road. Humming softly, I navigated the quiet streets of my hometown. Arriving at the modest school building, a familiar sight in our small town, I parked my bike and removed my helmet with a smile.
I sat on a bench outside the main door, tapping my feet impatiently, waiting for Ashlyn. My fingers idly scrolled through apps on my phone until I heard the groaning of wheels and the slow halt of a yellow bus. A flurry of students emerged, I spotted a familiar redhead with two braids, her green eyes scanning for me until they locked onto mine. With haste lacing her steps, she made her way over to me.
"Let's go," she muttered, and I rose from the bench, amused by her slight irritation.
"Surprised you have friends!" a playful voice chimed from behind her. She turned, her expression tightening but saying nothing. And then I saw him…
His eyes, a deep crimson, reminiscent of the darkest rose, held a mischievous excitement as they met mine. His slightly disheveled blonde hair caught the early sunlight, casting a soft glow around him. He was an unfamiliar face, but an attractive one if I were to be honest…
He looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, glancing up at me up and down as if saying, well well well, look what we have here...!
Behind him stood a taller figure, with a boyish face. He was rather lean but had an awkward demeanor to him. Ashlyn shot me a warning glance, but I couldn't resist the urge to open my mouth.
"Hey, I'm (name). You guys must be new here," I greeted, flashing a friendly smile despite Ashlyn's audible groan. Aiden's face lit up with enthusiasm…
Thank you for reading!! Please let me know what you think <3 This is just an excerpt of the text and isn’t the complete chapter.
#sbg#aiden sbg x reader#sbg x reader#aiden clark x reader#aiden sbg#aiden clark#school bus graveyard x reader#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard aiden#sbg (webtoon)
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Inked By Fate - THREE
↬ pairing/s: park seonghwa x fem!reader, choi san x fem!reader
↬ genre: soulmate!au, racers!ateez, rivalry, angst, romance, fluff, pining
↬warning/s: profanities, alcohol use, illegal racing
↬wc: 3.9k
*reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated!
・・・・・★
What made you want to go on a late night drive with a guy you just met today?
You don't know, but it felt like the best thing to do. It felt right.
You looked at the window, getting lost in the beauty of the moon-lit city as San drove at a certain speed.
San had driven the two of you out of the underground and past the expensive club, now you're on a road that led you further away from the buzzing city.
Just a plain cemented road, no other cars in sight. Somehow, it gave you a sense of tranquility.
"We're here." San announced and went out first. Then he opens the car door for you.
When you walked out, you noticed San had brought you to a viewing point. The place was high and flat enough to give you a picturesque overlook of the city and its night view.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" He comments, and when you look back, he was leaning on the hood of his car, so you went beside him and copied his posture.
"Yes, yes it is." You let out a good-natured sigh.
Without thinking much, you ask the question that's been bugging you since earlier.
"Why take me out, San?"
"Why accept my offer when you could've refused?"
You scoff when San answers your question with another.
"Why? Do you regret it now?" He asks after a brief moment of nothing but the chirping of the crickets.
You chuckle, shaking your head. "No, absolutely not."
San stares at you for a few seconds before he lets his gaze wander around the city just below you.
"I don't know, it just felt like the right thing to do." He sighs, then the corner of his lips curls upwards into a smile.
You shake your head again, smiling lightly due to amusement.
The two of you stayed silent for a moment. Again, it wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest. Being with San here felt like you're just casually hanging out with a friend you've known for years.
"Is he...is he always like that?" You asked, out of the blue, leaving a confused looking San.
"Hmm? What do you mean?"
"Seonghwa." You cleared your throat. "Is he always like that? Emotionless?" You bit your lip. You don't know why you're still not over Seonghwa's behavior earlier. It's like he was a mystery to you. Someone you want to unmask.
San laughs, much to your surprise. "Seonghwa hyung?"
"Wahh, I can't believe he still can capture a girl's attention despite him having his resting bitch face on." He adds, voice laced with amusement and disbelief.
Then, he turns to you. "Don't tell me, you like him?" San gasps dramatically. You hit him. "No! I was just curious...that's all."
San hums. "I can't answer your question, though. But if you so badly want to find out, why don't you talk to him?"
"I can't. Yeosang told me to stay clear from him, well from Inferno, generally."
San laughs, finding it funny. "So? It's not like Yeosang holds superiority over you, right? You're your own person."
Well, he's right. But…
"How about let's make a deal?"
At that, you quirk your eyebrows at him.
Deal?
"What deal?"
"If you go on more late night drives with me, I'll take you to our place so you could score a talk with Seonghwa hyung." He smirks.
"W-What makes you think I'd want to talk with that jerk?" You stutter, looking away.
"Jerk?" San wheezes. "Wow, you already have a nickname for him?"
You flush in embarrassment.
"Well, you did say you're curious about him, so I'm merely doing you a favor y'know? So what do you say?"
Something in you wants to say yes, immediately. But what would you even say if you get to face Seonghwa? What will he say if you randomly ask him, "Why are you such an emotionless jerk?" when you two aren't even close and he didn't even do anything to you, for you to reach that assumption?
In the first place, why are you even so bothered by him?
You're beginning to not understand yourself.
"Will Yeosang find out?" You ask, biting your lip.
"Nope, he won't. This all will be a secret between the two of us, I promise." He raises his right hand, his eyes bearing sincerity and assurance.
"Okay, it's a deal then."
"Nice. Let's head back, shall we?" San says, and you nod your head.
Then he opens the car door for you and turns to go to the driver's seat. And just like that, the black car roars back to life.
・・・・・★
When the two of you went back to the underground, San dropped you off near the comfort room to avoid getting looks from others and so to prevent your brother knowing that you just went out with the Choi San.
After that, you went back to the bleachers where your brother and Mingi were seated, lucky for you the race was still ongoing, which means you and San weren't out for that long.
So when Yeosang asks you what took you so long to use the comfort room, you just told him you got lost for a little bit.
Yeosang squints his eyes at you and is about to open his mouth, but then, Mingi from the side shakes him vigorously, pointing at the finish line as he shouts.
"Oh my god, look! Yunho won!"
And just like that, your head snaps to the front as you hear a buzzing sound, and surely you see Yunho's orange car being crowded with people.
Meanwhile, Yeosang behind you was in utter shock, "No way…"
"Yes way!" Mingi squeals as he finally stands from his seat, dragging Yeosang up with him. And now, they're clinging to each other, bouncing up and down.
Later on, the three of you went down when the crowd was clear.
"Congrats, Yunhooo!!" Mingi shouts, running to the other tall male and embracing him in a bone crushing hug.
"This calls for a celebration!" Yeosang cheers, joining them.
Then, you see Hongjoong going towards your mini circle. He stops beside you, saying, "Y'know it's still weird. Don't get me wrong but I'm truly happy Yunho won but...don't you think it's a bit skeptical for Park Seonghwa to have lost? After his straight wins?"
Your eyes widened, trying to process what the male just said.
Yeosang did say Seonghwa is the king of the tracks but… seriously? That guy hasn't lost once?
"It is weird, if you ask me." Yunho admits, his brows furrowed.
"Honestly, I don't give a fuck. All I just know is that he finally got a taste of a loss, heck his record isn't clean now and I'm beyond happy." Yeosang smirks, and Mingi was quick to second him.
"Still, one loss is better than five losses, Kang."
When you turn to your side, you flinch when you see Seonghwa. His all black figure was enough to make you intimidated, especially that he's so close.
But just like earlier, he doesn't bat an eye at you.
Instead, it was San who looked at you, smiling. You, of course, return the smile, discreetly.
"Speaking of the devil." Yeosang mutters quietly, but Seonghwa seemed to hear it as he let out a dark chuckle.
It gave you goosebumps. He gave you goosebumps.
"Anyway, congrats on winning tonight, Jeong." Seonghwa extends a hand and they both shake hands.
"Where's your other friend Wooyoung?" You whispered when you felt San subtly stop by your side.
"With his girls, of course." San replies, chuckling slowly. You nod, already understanding what he meant by that.
"Here." He whispers as he slides a paper in your hand. "It's my number." He adds, before he and Seonghwa walk away from the scene.
When you were already inside Yeosang's car, driving out of the underground, he asks, "So, do you still want to tag along with me the following nights?"
"You bet I will, Yeo." You say, smiling to yourself as you unfold the small paper San had left you with his number written on it neatly.
Funny how a late night drive with a guy you just met was enough to shift your attention to him, now all your flaming annoyances were washed out down the drain, forgotten.
・・・・・★
The loud music, the countless number of bodies dancing crazily to the beat of the music and the familiar strong smell of alcohol didn't make him stop in his tracks, turn around, and go back to his vehicle. Instead, it was enough to lull him deeper inside the place.
After a race night, most of the people decide to swarm in the expensive club and have a little bit of fun after stressing on betting their money to their favored contestant of the night.
And lucky for him, he's not one of those people, because he's at the receiving end. The one people bet on, the king of the tracks, who just happened to have had his first loss.
And he's here to drink to that.
"I'll have one Hemingway Daiquiri, please." His deep voice was enough to scare the bartender, which he immediately noticed was new. Just then another bartender slides into the scene, taking the former's place, brows furrowing.
"You scared him, hyung." The bartender says.
"Do I look like I care? I've got bigger problems to take care of, Jongho."
The bartender, Jongho, merely laughs and brushes some of his stray black locks out of his face.
"See? This is why people's first impression of you is a rude, cold-hearted jerk who only gives a fuck about racing, Seonghwa hyung."
"Again, do I look like I- you know what just give me that damn daiquiri please?" Seonghwa grumbles, face buried in his hands, trying his best to control his steaming anger and to not pour it out on the young bartender, who happens to be his friend.
"On it!" Jongho chirps, and just like that, he's out of sight, already doing his job.
But when Seonghwa thought he's finally got a sense of peace, oh boy was he wrong.
"Hyung, hyung, hyung, hyung!" Someone calls out amidst the noisy crowd, the voice all too familiar that Seonghwa just wanted life to end him then and there.
On second thought, certainly not. He still has yet to find his other half. Another reason why he lost the race tonight was because of his itching wrist. Which led him distracted all throughout the night, cause he knew what it had exactly meant.
His thoughts got cut off when the owner of the voice sat beside him, all bright and happy and of course - reeking of alcohol mixed with a woman's perfume.
"You wouldn't guess what happened to me hyung! So I met this girl-" But before the younger could even ramble on about his new fling, Seonghwa stops him.
"Woo, I don't care which girl you met this time, and I'm certainly not interested, okay? Good."
"Grumpy as always, no wonder why your handsome face is getting all wrinkly. Tch." Wooyoung scoffs, but Seonghwa was too tired to argue.
And as if Wooyoung's mouth was powered by a motor, never-ending until you shut it off, he continues.
"Ooh, where's Sannie by the way? Did you see him? Cause I did-"
"For heaven's sake, would you kindly shut that loud mouth of yours Jung Wooyoung?!" Seonghwa snaps, making some heads turn in their direction.
"Chill, man. Are you that affected by your loss? It's only one-"
"Hemingway Daiquiri for the King, is now ready." Jongho slides in smoothly despite the tension between the two racers, and Seonghwa is thankful for him for that, cause if not for the bartender, then who knows what he could've done to his chatterbox of a friend?
Taking the drink, Seonghwa takes his time to bask in the smell of it, letting his senses get lost in the drink itself. And by the time he drinks the daiquiri, he drowns the sound of the loud club music and his problems along with it.
"What's wrong with him?" Wooyoung whispers to Jongho.
"I don't know hyung. He's been like that since he entered, even scared one of the new recruits." At this info being relayed to him, Wooyoung grimaces.
"Oh, Sannie hyung is here." Jongho informs the latter. When Wooyoung does look back, he spots San coming towards them, the crowd making way for him as he spins his car keys smugly in his hand.
"Where have you been, mister?" Wooyoung asks the newcomer.
"Just out...thinking." San replies as he takes a seat beside the male, but then his head snaps to the side upon seeing their eldest hyung dead on the counter while still gripping on his half filled daiquiri.
"Is he okay? He's not like that just because of his loss, isn't he?" San inquires.
"I wish I knew." Wooyoung says. "But one thing I know is that he's extra grumpy tonight."
"I'll have the usual, Jongie." San smiles at the younger. After the bartender was out of sight, he gestured for Wooyoung to switch seats with him so he could talk to Seonghwa.
"Hyung, wake up." San shakes him. After some time, the elder groans and when he looks up he speaks in a slurred voice, "Oh, you're here."
"Do you want to talk it out hyung? You know I'm always ready to listen."
"No, I don't want to talk about it." Seonghwa replies stubbornly. San doesn't give up though, resulting in him giving in at the end.
"Go on, talk." San urges him while Wooyoung already disappeared somewhere in the sea of bodies on the dancefloor.
"I…" Seonghwa takes a deep breath. "I think my...soulmate and I crossed paths tonight." He looks longingly at his soulmate mark, which happened to itch for the first time after years of being engraved on his skin.
Seonghwa doesn't know which weighs in him more; the feeling of relief and happiness because he knows his soulmate is somewhere out there, closer than he thinks, or be angry and disappointed because his other half decides to show themselves just when his world has become a total mess.
Contrary to what he was feeling and thinking, beside him is Choi San with wide eyes, a hand over his mouth as he tries to hide the smile that's about to break out.
"No…way…" There was excitement in the latter's voice, but Seonghwa could only offer a tight-lipped smile, not really knowing what to feel.
All his life, Seonghwa truly yearned for his soulmate. But what good would it do both of them now when his life is nothing but built on lies and danger?
・・・・・★
You sat on the floor, with Jia braiding your hair as the two of you decided to spend the day lazily but cozily by having a marathon of barbie movies in your apartment.
"I remember I had a crush on King Dominic when I was a kid." You snicker, finding the memory ridiculous.
Jia snorts, saying, "Well, I can't blame the younger Y/N. For a child, Dominic is quite handsome."
The both of you laugh.
"Oh, did you...you know? Get another tattoo sprouting on your back?" Jia asks, and you're suddenly reminded of last night, where you had to bite one of your teddy bears because of the stinging pain.
"Yeah, no." You reply. Yeah, because you did get a new tattoo, and no, because it's not on your back this time.
"What do you mean? Is it a yes or is it a no?"
You don't answer her and just simply lower the collar of your shirt to the side, enough for her to see the not so small tattoo near the side of your collarbones.
"It's pretty, but do you know what it says?" Jia asks as she traces the tattoo with her delicate fingers.
You shake your head.
The tattoo was written in Japanese characters, and you have absolutely no idea what it meant. But the strokes are indeed pretty, light and minimalistic - very different from the bed of blossoming black-inked flowers on your back and other designs on your upper arm.
After that, you shift to make your body face the sofa and then you look up at Jia, asking, "How did it feel when you met Yeosang? The time when you both didn't know you were soulmates, how did it feel being around him?"
Jia groans, but you know that deep inside she's more than willing to go on a trip down the memory lane just to answer your questions.
"Well, uhm, how do I say this? There was this connection? That even if I didn't want anything to do with him, I found myself always drawn to him and then when-"
By now, Jia's words were all a blur, your mind going back to last night, before you experienced another pain from a blossoming tattoo, before Yeosang dropped you back home - back to the moment a certain black-haired male with the striking green streaks asked you if you wanted to go on a late night drive with him.
You know you felt it, the reason why you decided to come with him.
You felt the connection.
You were drawn to him.
Perhaps, could it be? Is he...?
The questions continued to bug you even in the next sunrise.
・・・・・★
That night, Yeosang picks you up, all dressed up in his usual black leather jacket and dark jeans when you step inside his red car.
When he does take notice of your outfit he grins wide in mischief. "You're dressed much more than last night, my dear sister."
"And? It's none of your business." You deadpan, but that only spikes up Yeosang's interest and nosy ass more.
"Do tell me, is it one of my friends?" He faces you, hands off the steering wheel as he now has his arms crossed. "Cause I clearly told them not to hit on you, didn't I? So I expect that you-"
Suddenly, San's words from the other night appear at the back of your head.
So? It's not like Yeosang holds superiority over you, right? You're your own person.
It makes you question if Yeosang's solely doing this because of his protectiveness over you - you're starting to think otherwise. Surely Yeosang isn't using this as an opportunity to make you bend to his will just because of the fact that he's the only family you could rely on, right?
You hope so.
"Yeosang," You pause, making sure to stress his name. "I'm not hitting on one of your friends, I swear. It's not one of them." It's one of your rivals.
When your brother doesn't speak, you continue, "Now, could you just please drive? You wouldn't dare want to miss your own race, right? You said you still have to beat Jung Wooyoung's ass on the racetrack."
Yeosang scoffs, "You bet I will."
・・・・・★
Just like the other night, you settle with Yeosang's friends on the bleachers, wait a little bit for the race to start, then excuse yourself to the bathroom.
And just like that, you're inside Choi San's car, driving through the same route that will take you to the viewing point you last went to.
Though unlike the first ride, tonight was much more comfortable, San even let you plug your own phone to his car's speakers. And now you two are vibing to some songs you put in your 'night drive playlist' - a playlist you wanted to save for yourself the moment you get yourself a car - but it looks like San's car had stolen the privilege of your future car.
"The stars look more extra sparkly tonight." San sighs over a smile, his eyes gazing at the night sky above you two.
"Yes...they are." You say, also completely mesmerized by the heavenly bodies scattered all over the black canvas, the moon looking like a blurry light at the side because of the fogginess of the clouds.
"Very, breath-taking." San adds.
At that, you unknowingly turn your head to him, eyes locking at the side of his face.
What's with you, Choi San?
You thought, taking in his features. Okay, you're not gonna lie. San is probably one of the gorgeous guys you've ever laid your eyes on. His cat-like eyes, his long lashes, high cheekbones, plump lips, sharp jawline-
"Y/N?"
Even his voice has its own softness for a lullaby.
"Kang Y/N?"
You immediately snap out of your daze, looking away and praying that San didn't notice the way you looked at him, how long you looked at him.
Oh, but you think he did know. He caught you, considering that you can feel the burning gaze of his on you. And when he's about to open his mouth, to say something, you don't let him.
"San." You say.
"Uh, yeah?"
"Have you…" You fiddled with your fingers, before you mustered the courage to look at him again. "Have you met your soulmate?"
San's eyes flickered with something, and you knew that he didn't expect that question coming.
"I..." San rubs the back of his neck, his mouth opens and then closes. Then one time he looks at you, and then back at the view in front, until he settles with a, "No. No, I haven't."
"How about you?" He asks back after a moment of silence. You simply shook your head, your hand caressing the mark you have on your wrist. San notices it as he too, looks at his own mark, touching it.
"You know what, fuck it. Y/N, can you touch my wrist?" San abruptly says, eyes dark but it kind of held a vulnerability in them, his tone somewhat pleading and pained.
"I- w-what?"
San doesn't repeat his words, instead, he just rolls up his leather jacket. Catching you off guard, he takes your hand in his and lets your finger touch his wrist, which you just realized by now is where his soulmate mark was engraved.
But instead of having the usual one letter tattoo, his' was different.
Y/N.
It had your name on it but you didn't know what and how to feel.
No burning sensation, no glow.
What the fuck does that mean?
San chuckles bitterly, as if having known it, having expected it.
That night when he asked you to go on a late night drive with him, that time when your knees gave up and he catches you - was also the time you accidentally touched his soulmate mark.
The one that started off as an initial until it became your name, the one that was engraved on his wrist since birth.
He felt the connection that night, but nothing happened.
And now he still feels the connection between the two of you, but it just drives him crazy because you touched that same mark tonight and yet nothing happened again.
Was fate and destiny toying with him?
Oh, how cruel of them.
Even when you ended up showing your soulmate mark to him, the one with the letter S, and made him touch it. Nothing happened, still.
That ends up with a fragile looking San laying on your lap, your hands brushing through his black hair.
It was silence as the male was spaced out in his own little bubble, but then he spoke up. Calling your name
"Y/N…"
"Hmm?"
"You...you'll stay with me until we figure this shit out right? My promise still lies; me not telling your brother about our rendezvous and scoring you a talk with Seonghwa hyung." San says in between sniffles, and you don't know whether it was because of the cold, or the fact that he had been secretly crying. Or maybe both.
But…
Seonghwa.
Oh right, you almost forgot about him.
The sudden mention of his name gave you a slight feeling creeping through your skin.
"Yeah, of course, San." You respond, only for the said boy, correcting you.
"Call me, Sannie!"
"Okay...Sannie." You say as you mindlessly rake your fingers through his hair, your mind drifting off to the tall man with the midnight black hair, clad in black from tip to bottom.
The King of the tracks.
The emotionless jerk.
Your flaming annoyance ignites inside of you again.
・・・・・★
taglist: @rockstarsanie @purple-bell @huachengsbestie01 @ellelabelle @annacroft23114 @http-gyu @bluehwale-main @sangiluvem @babyhailey819 @0rangemilk @kmecrazyfor @sallymurda @oahubliss @jxhnnyfav @mingiswow @linoluvr4eva @n18i81
(pink ones are those who i can't seem to tag :(( ; taglist is now closed)
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Hidden Words (R. Spiers)
Summary: Ron comes home from the war, wanting quiet and solitude, but when a friend from his childhood saves him when he needs it, a new friendship is formed. What happens when the lines are blurred and demands are made? Can Ron recognize he can have peace and quiet amidst the noise?
Author's Note: This is my Secret Santa fic for @latibvles. Thank you for bearing with me, and I'm sorry this took a moment. Between the end of the semester and the jump right into the family and holiday stuff, I've barely had time to breathe. Nonetheless, here it is, and I hope you like it!
Warnings: implied!female reader; mentions of the war (canon typical); mentions of having/wanting children in the future;
Word Count: 6.9k
Ever since he returned home, his mother continuously tried to step him up on a date. She didn’t understand that he didn’t want that; no part of him was ready to date. For starters, how could he explain the things he’d seen—done—in the war to anyone, especially someone he should be spending the rest of his life with?
Besides, he doesn’t think it’s worth it to spend all this time working on opening himself up and getting to know someone only for the relationship not to work out. There’s no point in trying to make something work when he knows it won’t.
But his mother wants grandkids, so he can’t say that to her.
Since he came home from the war, it’s as if the entire world is dead-set on producing the next generation. While Ron sees no flaws in that, he doesn’t want to partake. It’s not that he doesn’t want kids; it’s the process of finding someone to have children with. The time and effort weren’t worth it to him if it could fall apart—either by war or personal faults.
But his mother wants this for him, and he can never say no to his mother.
Presently, Ron and his family are on their way to a block party, hosted by a couple of families down the road. He remembers the names—some of the people he grew up with.
As they get closer, he starts to feel the anxiety building up. Everywhere he goes where people remember him from his childhood, they immediately begin to thank him for his service and want him to tell his stories. While he knows they have good intentions, he’s not always in the mood to talk about his experiences overseas, and sometimes, he would prefer to pretend they never happened.
As expected, once they arrive at the small corner of the neighborhood where the party is being hosted, he’s surrounded by people who want to hear his stories and tales. There are so many voices, making different requests, that he isn’t able to pipe in and ask to have this conversation another time.
He looks around for his mother, but she’s nowhere to be found. First, she drags him to this gathering; then, she leaves him alone. He shakes his head, frustrated.
“Excuse me,” a voice pipes in from being Ron. “I need to borrow him for a moment.”
Their hand intertwines with Ron and begins to pull him towards one of the houses. The moment is so hurried that he doesn’t have a chance to look at the person who’s dragging him away—his savior.
He’s so shocked and confused that he doesn’t register to which house they’re heading towards. He doesn’t register the familiar steps of stairs or the familiar room he’s in or the recognizable bed he’s sat on.
“Hi,” Ron says when he finally recognizes that you’re his savior, and you brought him up to your childhood room. “Long time no see.”
You snort. “Yeah, well, there was this war in Europe; did you know about that?”
“Vaguely,” he replies, a small smile begging to be released. He can’t remember the last time he smiled. “Thanks for saving me.”
You nod. “You look horrified, and as much as that amuses me, I figured today wasn’t the day to be bombarded.”
Living just down the street from each other, your family and his family often interacted. For a while, your lives orbited around each other. There was nowhere you went where Ron didn’t follow closely behind. He was your shadow, just being happy to be around you, soaking in your aura and liveliness.
He would spend hours of his days with you, and if he wasn’t with you, he was thinking about you or talking about you to anyone who would listen.
By the time you both reached high school, your friendship wasn’t socially acceptable anymore, so you and Ron drifted. Anyone who knew Ron before high school would say that a part of him died or drifted away when you both stopped being friends. A chunk of his soul, personality, and heart was chiseled out, waiting to be put back when you returned.
By the time Ron went off to war, you were pretty much strangers to each other. But, even if he didn’t know it, there were still parts of him that longed for you.
Sitting on your childhood bed, looking at you as you organize all the guests’ belongings that were scattered around your room, small parts of the missing pieces of himself started to be pieced back together.
“Are you okay?” you ask him, a curious and amused look in your eyes.
He nods.
Deep down, he knew he wasn’t letting the friendship go again.
. . .
“I didn’t have the chance to make anything, so I just went to the store,” Ron apologizes as he begins to take out food containers and lays them out on the picnic blanket.
“You were going to cook? Wait, actually, you know how to cook?”
He gives you a faint eye roll. “Yes, I’m not entirely helpless, by the way. But also, my mom has been trying to domesticate me in the event I decide to settle down. That’s been her post-war plan for me.”
You nod, ignoring the small pitter-patter of your heart. What would it be like to live with a domesticated Ron?
Whoa, you’re not sure where those thoughts stem from, but as he opens up the containers and begins to make you a plate of your favorites, you couldn’t help but wonder. He took the initiative in planning this. He was never late, and if he was going to be late, he made sure to communicate it. He was always conscientious about your feelings and what you wanted to do. He was just—
Were your standards that low, or was Ron just genuinely that great?
“What was it like?”
“What was what like?” Ron inquires in between bites.
“The war, being overseas.”
In a matter of seconds, Ron’s entire body tenses up, and you see the muscles in his neck tighten. “I would rather not talk about that.”
You nod. “What about the people you served with?”
“Don’t,” Ron replies, sharp and pointed.
“I shouldn’t have asked, sorry.” You wanted to know, but you understood why he wouldn’t want to share this information with you. It wasn’t an easy experience or an easy topic to discuss. But did that give him the right to be that rude and abrasive with you?
“I shouldn’t have responded the way I did, though, and I apologize for that.”
“It’s okay,” you reply.
A few minutes of awkward and heavy silence follows. The only sounds are the other families laughing and talking as they take in the nice weather. Now, you feel incredibly bad for bringing it up, but a part of you feels almost rejected. He doesn’t feel comfortable enough around you to open up.
The only way you know to end this weirdness is to talk about stories from the people around you, so you dive into the stories of people in the neighborhood and work, throwing in little quips and jokes. It takes a minute for Ron’s icy exterior to melt, but soon, he’s laughing along with your jokes and making small comments here and there.
Despite the way he’s interacting in the conversation, you can’t help but feel that he’s holding back from you, still. It’s almost as if he doesn’t feel at ease with you right now.
But then he flashes you one of his brightest and rarest smiles and the way his eyes sparkle as he looks at you and the sunlight shrouding him in a glow sets your entire body on fire. He was always known for being guarded, so you shouldn’t be surprised he’s holding back from the difficult conversations with you. But he doesn’t smile like that for anyone, right? So that has to mean something.
He means something to you.
Yeah, you’re screwed.
. . .
All he said was to come to dinner. You didn’t know what to expect, but all he said was to come to dinner, and no, you shouldn’t bring anything, despite your insistence. Just yourself, he said.
Just yourself.
Those words echoed in your mind for the days and the hours that passed between him asking you to come and you arriving at his doorstep.
Just yourself.
Just yourself.
Just yourself.
You’re not someone who often reads into things, especially when it comes to things with romantic feelings involved. For the sake of self-preservation, you didn’t let yourself read into things, but with Ron, you couldn’t help yourself. With every interaction you have with him, you so badly want it to be more.
Does Ron asking you to go to his mom’s house for family dinner mean something, or are you supposed to go only as friends?
The spiraling and spinning thoughts don’t stop as Ron welcomes you into the house, takes your jacket, and you shrug off your shoes. Did his fingers linger on your shoulders for a brief moment? Did he hug you a little longer than necessary, than normal? Did he give you a small smile, his eyes twinkling with a purpose? Did he treat everyone else this way, or were you special?
You so badly wanted to be special.
As the night went on and you were reintroduced to Ron’s family that you remember from when you were growing up, you pretended not to recognize the curious and interesting looks they gave you and Ron. You ignored the way their eyes drifted to where his hand was guiding you on your back or the way his hands rested on your shoulders when he was introducing you to someone. You ignored their pointed looks as he whispered in your ears every now and then or the looks he gave you.
No one wanted to say it or ask it, fearing the glare Ron would send them.
As much as you wanted them to ask or say something, you didn’t want to know what he would say. You didn’t want your worst fears to be confirmed.
“No,” Ron says, interrupting your thoughts as you make your way to the dinner table, finding a seat on one end of the table, not near where Ron was sitting. He rests his hands on your waist and guides you toward the other end of the table where he’s sitting next to his mom.
“I can sit there.”
“No.”
“Ron—”
“Don’t make me carry you over there. I want to sit next to you.”
“Okay,” you reply softly, ignoring the pitter-patter of your heart with the meaning of his words.
As the meal progresses, you’re sitting, chatting with the people around you, and you nearly jump out of your chair when Ron’s arm goes to rest along your shoulders. No way you can’t read into that, right? Ron’s not known for being a touchy person. That’s how it was growing up, but recently, with you, you can’t help but wonder if that reputation no longer exists for him—at least not with you. He was constantly trying to have some part of his body against yours, but was that something you could read into?
Your thoughts are interrupted when one of Ron’s aunts calls your name from somewhere across from you. “Are you single?”
You nod, taken aback. “Waiting for the right person to come along.”
“Well, if Ron isn’t going to do anything and give you an honest life, I have a few children and nieces and nephews who can and will.”
“Um, thank you.” You’re not sure how to respond to Ron’s aunt, but you look toward the man in question, trying to see what his reaction will be.
He gives you a small, courteous smile, a smile he never uses with you, a smile he only reserves for those he doesn’t want to talk to. He never uses that smile on you, but tonight, he did. “You can do whatever you want with your romantic life. We’re friends, right?”
Oh.
“Right,” you reply, turning your head away from him and back to your plate.
There goes that.
The way you turned away from him made Ron’s heart drop. You’ve never turned away from him like that, so dejected. The normal fire and spirit you have with Ron disappeared. He watched the sparkle in your eyes die right there in from of him. But he doesn’t know where he went wrong. You’re allowed to do whatever you want; he will never try to control you. He was just telling his nosey aunt the truth. You’re friends, and you can date whomever you want—not that any of his cousins were good enough for you.
The rest of the night continued, but a nagging feeling pulled at his heart as a deep pit opened in his stomach, and he had no idea where it came from. All he knows is that as he watched you help his mother with the dishes, the string on his heart pulled against him, warming his body in places he never knew possible. As he watched you do puzzles with his younger cousins, he couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling that he felt to the tips of his fingers.
When you hugged him goodbye, he knew he never wanted to let you go. He wanted to hold you against his body forever—keeping you safe from the world.
Ron couldn’t explain the agony in his body as he watched you walk to your car and drive away.
Maybe he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with you. He wouldn’t mind making his life for you.
Well, what does that mean?
. . .
Ron’s mother was at her reading club for the night, so Ron invited you over for dinner. He promised a “home-cooked meal, don’t give me that face,” and it excited you. Despite your realized feelings for the man, you can’t help but want to spend your time with him. You know that nothing will ever come of your feelings for Ron, but you can’t stay away from your friend. The happiness it brings you is indescribable.
But you have an exit plan when you feel yourself getting too much in your head (and delusional) around Ron.
Setting boundaries, you promised yourself. That was the only way you’d be able to spend time around him and not go crazy, breaking your heart.
As Ron welcomes you into his mother’s home, the smells from the kitchen hit your nose, and you’re instantly warm and fuzzy as if you’ve been wrapped in a warm blanket. Once your coat and shoes are off, Ron takes your hand and guides you toward the kitchen, giving you a soft smile as he watches you walk through his childhood home.
You’ve been down this hallway, seeing all the pictures of little Ron, many, many times, but there’s something different about it now for Ron. There’s a new meaning and feeling to it for him.
But he just chalks it up to being happy that it’s finally peacetime. That he can enjoy moments like these without the fear of being bombed or killed. The people and things most important to him are safe.
“Penne-vodka,” Ron answers when you inquire about what you’re making.
Your favorite, you think to yourself, trying to hide the toothy smile begging to be released.
“Your favorite, right?” he asks, a small twinkle in the corner of his eyes. You give him a small nod, and Ron can’t help the triumphant, happy feeling deep in his chest.
Ron turns back to the stove, stirring the pot, and you take the time to watch him cook. He’s different than high school, and as your eyes roam over his body, you’re appreciative of the changes his body has undertaken since graduating. The very good changes.
“Have you talked to anyone from our graduating class since being back?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Not really,” he replies, short and to the point. “It’s not something I’m too keen on.”
“Why’s that?” you question in between bites of bread.
He shrugs, ending the conversation there.
Right, that’s Ron’s new thing. If he doesn’t want to talk about something, he’ll shut down. These conversations only happen on his time—which means never. While you understand that some topics may be too difficult for him to talk about, you wish it wasn’t so hard to talk with him. Often, you were the one who was starting the conversation, pretty much begging for Ron to say something. You knew he was engaged in the conversation because he maintained constant eye contact, laughed at your jokes, smiled at the appropriate times, and nodded when needed. But it felt like you were the only one who made an effort to talk. Sure, Ron was a quiet person, but there’s a difference between being a quiet person and letting the conversation be one-sided.
Besides, it was you. If Ron couldn’t talk to you, then he couldn’t talk to anyone. Or was it that he wouldn’t talk?
Why did it hurt you that Ron kept his words hidden and tucked away from you? You were supposed to be one of the people he trusted the most, so why couldn’t he untuck those words with you?
As you help Ron set the table to eat, you recall the time a few weeks back when you went to Ron’s for a family dinner. You remember that he didn’t say anything really to his relatives. While that made you feel slightly better, it didn’t fully appease your feelings. At least you knew that it wasn’t just you that he held back with, but then again, it was you, and there was no change.
As the meal continues, you put your confusion and doubts to the side. It didn’t matter his lack of talking or conversation because the safety, comfort, and warmth you felt around Ron significantly outweighed the talking issue. Even if you only got friendship out of him, you knew that you couldn’t go the rest of your life without the way he made you feel.
He made you feel safe and loved (even if platonically), and that by far was one of the most important things to you about finding a partner—romantically or platonically.
The rest of the night passed in quiet moments and short conversations, but it was never awkward. That’s how Ron was. There was no need to compensate for the lack of conversation because the quiet wasn’t awkward. It was secure and calm. It was the kind of quiet that came from years and years of learning and growing around the person you loved.
Well, shit, you chose to ignore that.
When it was about time for you to head home, you began to voice a goodbye, and Ron led you towards the front door where he helped you put on your coat.
“Wait, hold on,” Ron says as you’re putting on your shoes. “I have something for you.”
He quickly makes his back to the kitchen and comes back with a tray of food. You already had a large container filled with leftover Penne vodka, so you’re confused about what he was now handing you.
“I made you mac and cheese,” he tells you softly, the cheeks and the tips of his ears tinged red. “You can either put it all in the oven at once, or heat up chunks separately. I don’t know why I told you that because I’m sure you know how to cook for yourself. Anyway, I’ll help you take it out to your car.”
You can’t help the silly smile that takes over your face. You try to fight it, but the smile is there if Ron’s reddening face is any indication. You’ve wanted this boy to talk to you, and by the time you finally get him to say more than two sentences to you, he’s a stern, babbling, blushing mess. It was cute.
“Thank you, Ron,” you tell him, the smile heard in your voice. He nods and makes his way to put on his shoes and walk you to your car.
With the food and leftovers securely placed in your backseat, you and Ron linger at the driver’s side door. You’re leaning against the car as Ron stands close to you, towering over both you and the car. His eyes are searching your face for any indication of what to do next.
“Thank you for having me and cooking for me,” you finally say. You didn’t want to leave, but it was getting late, and his mother will be home soon.
“You’re always welcome here,” he tells you, his eyes sincere and honest. You nod. Without thinking, you lean forward and briefly kiss Ron on his cheek, your lips burning when you pull away, but it’s not any comparison to the way his cheek burns around where you kissed him. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the way Ron’s hand stiffens into a fist as he processes what just happened. His breath is shaky and fast as you pull back, and his eyes are in a daze.
This time, you’re able to hide your smile as Ron’s face turns crimson red.
“I’ll see you soon,” you tell him, unlocking your car and getting ready to leave. “Good night.”
Ron stands there in a daze as you drive away, too confused to move. He’s standing there, unsure of what just happened and why his body reacts the way it did.
When his mother returns home almost twenty minutes later, Ron is still standing there.
“Is everything okay?” she asks as she walks over to Ron. That seems to mostly pull him out of his daze.
“She kissed me,” is all he says, and his mother smiles.
“You’re a lucky guy.”
He nods. “Very lucky.”
If only he could control his body temperature and heartbeat then maybe he’d be able to figure out what just happened.
. . .
“Do you remember Arden from middle school?” you prompt, your heart tugging at the meaning of your words.
Ron thinks for a moment, his thumb drawing circles around your ankle. You’re sitting on the couch in the living room of his mother’s home. She’s out, so you feel comfortable resting against one of the armrests, your feet in Ron’s lap. You’re reading a book. The minute your legs rested in Ron’s lap, he placed his arms on your ankles, tracing small patterns, leaving trails of fire in his fingertips’ wake.
“Yes,” Ron voices, his tone neutral. He doesn’t know where this is going, but if it’s going where he thinks it’s going, he’s not going to appreciate it.
“They asked me out,” you say after a few moments.
“Why are you telling me this?” Ron asks, terser than you expected. You’re taken aback by his response.
“Because you’re my friend—one of my best friends—and we tell each other things,” you reply. “Well, at least I tell you things.”
“What does that mean?” Ron asks, him now taken aback.
“It means you don’t tell me anything. I know nothing about your life since we finished high school, and what I do know, your parents have told me. It’s not fair for me to be the only one to share things! I don’t exist as a form of entertainment for you.”
“That’s not fair.”
You know it’s not entirely fair.
“I don’t have to share what the war was like for me,” Ron spits back. But that’s not what you’re referencing, and deep down, you know that he knows that, too.
“It’s not just that,” you reply. “I’m not talking about that. You’re not required to tell me anything about your time in the war, and that’s not what I’m asking for. There’s so much more to your life that you choose not to tell me about. It’s not fair or right that I’m an open book, and you take it all in, not giving anything back in return.”
“Don’t do that.”
“You know everything about me, and I know pretty much nothing about you, and I’m tired of that.” A deep sigh leaves your mouth. “You don’t need to tell me everything, but I shouldn’t be disappointed in the lack of open communication between us. It’s as if you don’t trust me.”
“How can you say that? I trust you more than anyone else in this world!” Ron hears the rise in the volume of his voice. He leans back on the couch, trying to stop himself from yelling because you’re right. He doesn’t share much with you. As much as he wants to share with you, he can never get himself to say anything, and it’s not just about the war. He’s holding back; he knows he is.
“I’m going to leave.”
“No, please, don’t,” Ron pleads. Despite this, he releases his hold on your ankles. He won’t hold you back despite how badly he wants to.
“You have no idea how much you mean to me, Ron.” It’s a thinly veiled confession of love, and you know Ron picks up on it, but you know he won’t say anything or give you a response.
“What makes you think I want that?” So, he was going to address it, but it still got you fuming.
“I don’t! That’s the whole point! You don’t talk to me, so I have no idea what’s going on in your mind! I don’t want to waste my time, but I don’t want to spend my time with anyone else but you!”
You’re staring at him, begging for him to say something, anything. If he told you it was all in your head, you’d believe him. All he needed to say was anything, but you know he won’t. That’s not the kind of person Ron is. He has his walls up; he always has. The war only reinforced them, and while you can’t blame him for keeping things to himself, you can’t help but feel that your worth in his eyes diminished because of his lack of want to share. It’s almost as if you don’t mean as much to him as he means to you. It’s as if you’re more invested than he is in this relationship—platonic or romantic.
It’s not fair to think those thoughts, but he’s not saying anything to you. He’s not making you feel any better. If he really cared for you in any way, he would say something, right? Ron’s perceptive. He very likely has a clue to what you’re feeling, but you also know he won’t say anything. He stays away from uncomfortable conversations because he isn’t comfortable having them.
“I’m going to leave, now,” you finally decide. “It’s not fair for me to keep hanging around when I clearly don’t mean that much to you.”
“You’re wrong,” Ron spills, reaching out to gently grab your hand. You know that he could have held you tighter, but he didn’t. That makes your heart melt, despite the conclusions you’re gathering tonight. He’s giving you the ability to walk away.
“Tell me why.” You’re looking deep into his eyes, and you want to read into all the looks he’s giving you, but you won’t. Not anymore.
A few minutes pass where you’re looking at him, silently begging him to say something.
“I’m leaving now. Please don’t contact me unless you genuinely understand where I’m coming from or why I’m doing this.” With that, you shake your hand out of Ron’s hold, walking away from him, your heart breaking with every step you take.
As he watches you walk out the door, fuming in anger, confusion, and frustration, Ron can’t help but wonder if he let the best love of his life walk away forever.
. . .
A few days pass, and Ron feels a deep aching in his soul. He watches the phone for hours, begging and hoping you’ll call. He knows you won’t call. He knows the cards are in his hands. That doesn’t mean he knows what to do.
Well, he knows what to do, but he doesn’t know if he’s capable of carrying it out.
Ron doesn’t know where to start.
There’s so much of what you said that’s bothering him, but he can’t tell why it’s bothering him. Maybe it’s because of the way your words pierced a hole through his heart, but then again, there are so many other feelings and things that only came out in his heart, mind, stomach, and body whenever you were around. Are those things connected?
The first thing that made his blood boil and had Ron seeing red was the idea of you going on a date with someone. In theory, the person who asked you out (they who shall not be named) isn’t objectively a bad person, but Ron just doesn’t want you with them. Why would you spend your time with they who shall not be named when you can spend your time with Ron? He doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this angry about you spending your time with someone else.
It’s a date, Ron tries to reason with himself. I can’t give that to her.
But could he?
Those thoughts ran through his mind one night at 2 am when Ron couldn’t fall asleep. Could he give you all of your wants and desires romantically? Could he find it in himself to give you a life with more than just friendship? Objectively, Ron knows that out of all the people in the world, you’re the best option to build a life with, and you’re the only person Ron knows he can handle. But that’s not fair to you, to be the last resort (or is it the best resort? Ron hasn’t gotten there, yet.) or someone to “handle.”
The thought of spending the rest of his life with you freaks him, but it also comforts him. Who knew someone could feel both at the same time? Is this what it means to love someone?
Once he has that singular thought, your other comments spring up in his mind, pushing away any thoughts of love.
It’s not fair or right that I’m an open book, and you take it all in, not giving anything back in return.
The war broke Ron. He was already broken, but the war broke him in ways that he never knew he could break. He’s so broken that he couldn’t imagine subjecting you to that. But that’s my decision to make, Ron, he could hear you saying if he voiced those words to you. And imaginary-you is right. It’s intimately clear that you know what you’d be getting when it comes to Ron, and it would be your choice to choose to make a life with him, but he doesn’t want to hurt you. He knows he can prevent that pain if he keeps you at arm’s length.
But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Ron doesn’t want that. He wants you as close to him as molecularly possible. He wants to stay away, but he can’t. That’s the effect you have on him.
He thinks he has it all figured out, and then he remembers the pain in your eyes as you walked away, and when you said,
It’s not fair for me to keep hanging around when I clearly don’t mean that much to you.
He’s already hurt you. By not having the capacity or the ability to tell you just how much you mean to him, he hurt you. You think you mean nothing to him when the truth is the exact opposite. You are his entire world, the reason his heart keeps beating, and the reason he takes a breath. But it’s gone.
He’s never going to be able to tell you how much you mean to him. He’s never going to tell you how much he loves you.
That thought scares him but also excites him. He’s always been so afraid to think that of himself, but when it’s connected to you, it’s okay. He loves you and knows he’s not good at loving, but somehow, loving you is much better than anything else. He knows that because it’s you, he’ll find a way to fix his shit and be the best possible person for you. But he knows that you won’t let him go and you won’t let him fall. Loving you is the best thing he can do because he found someone who will hold on with their entire being, and Ron knows that he’ll hold onto you with his entire being.
Loving you means that he takes those scary steps in opening up and being vulnerable. For so long, it was ingrained in Ron’s mind and survival that he couldn’t be vulnerable. Now, he’s learned that in some instances, it’s important not to be vulnerable, and in other circumstances, it’s okay to be vulnerable and open. Being vulnerable is okay because there’s someone there who will take your vulnerability and build a wall around you to the point that you’re safe and comfortable.
And Ron knows that person is you.
You’ll take his fragility, emotions, and vulnerability and make it your own. You’ll protect him and love him, and you won’t hurt him because he chose to be fully himself around you.
Because that’s what love does.
Love cures. Love protects. Love endures. But most importantly, love loves.
Ron loves you.
He loves you.
He loves you so wholly that he wants to spill his entire world right at your feet. He wants to lay everything at your feet, but he knows it will take time and patience. He knows that you’re that person who will let him get there, and he knows that he’ll love you for it and make it worth your while to give him the time and the way to be vulnerable.
For a moment, Ron’s scared that maybe he lost his chance with you, but then he remembers something you said that struck him deep in his heart, not knowing the effect it had:
I don’t want to waste my time, but I don’t want to spend my time with anyone else but you!
He knows it’s not guaranteed that you’ll let him back in your life, but he knows he has a small chance. He knows he has a small chance to tell you how much he loves you and to show you that he’s worth it. He’s worth taking a risk for because you’re worth taking a risk for.
You’re worth everything to Ron, and it’s about time he finds the words to tell you.
Maybe all he needs to start with is three little words.
. . .
“You’re right,” Ron blurts out, barely letting you open your door.
“I mean, yeah, but why do you say that?” you say, a small smile on your face despite the conversation you both had a few nights ago.
“That it’s not fair of you to be the only one to share things. I’m not ready to tell you everything, and I don’t know if I ever will be able to tell you some parts of what happened to me, but I want to try. But you’re right, there’s so much more to that than just the war, and it’s not fair of me to have made you feel lesser because I’m not emotionally capable of telling you things or being the person you needed me to be. ”
“Ron—”
This was everything you wanted him to say to you, but does it change anything?
He shakes his head. “If I want to be with you and make a life with you, I shouldn’t be a ghost to you. I shouldn’t be someone you know nothing about.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re uncomfortable with,” you attempt to reassure. “That wasn’t the point.” And that was the truth.
Ron nods, and a small smile tugs at his lips. If only he knew the things he could make you do with just that small smile. “I’ve always been afraid of people knowing too much about me, but I guess the part of falling in love is learning to trust the most important person in your life, and I trust you. I trust you. I want to tell you all the words that are building up in my mind because you’re the only person I want to share them with. I have so many words built up in my mind that it feels like my body will explode. I never wanted to try with anyone else, but you make me want to do better and be better. Even if this goodbye, I’m still going to make an effort for all the people that matter in my life.”
“If it feels like your body is going to explode, maybe you should go to the doctor. That can’t be a good sign.”
A chuckle of disbelief leaves Ron’s mouth as he shakes his head.
“What?” you question. No response follows. Ron gently grabs your upper arm and pushes you into your home as he lets himself inside. Gently and with reluctance, he lets go of your arms and shoves off his shoes.
“I tell you I’m in love with you and I trust you, and the only thing you got from that was maybe I should go to the doctor?”
“Oh, oops.”
“Yeah, oops,” Ron mocks, one of the widest smiles you’ve ever seen stripes his face. “I’m falling in love with you, and I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not going to lose me, and you never were going to lose me.”
He shakes his head. “You really know how to make a man’s heart weaken and emasculate him. But I guess I deserve this bit of agony and anguish.”
“I’m not doing anything!”
“I’m telling you I love you, and you keeping skipping over that part.”
“Because you keep saying things that warrant my more imminent response!” you defend.
“You’re doing it again,” Ron points, stepping towards you.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I’m going to try something,” Ron teases. He’s never teased you before. That was new; it was a new tone to his voice that you wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of your life.
“What’s that?” your voice shaky. You can’t tell if he can hear you over the rattling of your heart, but by the twinkling in his eyes, you know that he’s in complete control, hoping to elicit a response from you.
“I love you.”
It takes a few seconds for you to register what he’s saying. A few blinks help your visual field clear up. Those three little words wipe the air out of your lungs. The ringing in your ears matches the beat of your heart as you process those three little words. For so long, you’ve been waiting for Ron to utter those three words. You didn’t want to be the first one to say those words. He’s so incredibly guarded that you weren’t sure if you were making up how you felt or how he felt, but now you know. You’ve been waiting so long to hear him finally tell you those three little words, and you have no idea what to do next.
“Hey,” Ron whispers, gently lifting your chin to match his eyeline, taking you out of your thoughts. “What’s going on in your mind? Did I say the wrong thing?”
“What—what did you say?” Your breath is shaky, words finally leaving your lips.
“Do you promise that if I say it again, you promise not to silently spiral?”
“No.”
Ron chuckles. “Fair enough.”
A few seconds pass. You’re looking deep into his eyes. You want to say it to him, but you’re unsure if you dreamed it. But also, the way he said those words, his voice deep and husky did so many things to your body that you needed to hear it again.
“I love you.” A small, nervous smile tugs at his lips as he looks at you expectantly. It takes you a few seconds to get your bearings straight, but when you do, a wide smile overcomes your face, and instantly, Ron knows you’re on the same page as him. In a matter of milliseconds, Ron pulls you against his chest, nuzzling his face against your neck, taking in deep breaths, laced with your calming scent. He’s whispering small “I love you”s into your neck as your arms find their way around his shoulders, your fingers creeping into his hair.
Despite wanting to be in his embrace for the rest of your life, you pull back slightly, your nose resting against his. “I love you,’ you whisper, wanting so badly to close the gap between your lips and kiss him.
“You have no idea how much I love you,” Ron replies, his lips brushing against yours. It doesn’t take much for you both to lean in, closing the gap, resting your lips on each other’s. It’s a soft kiss, hesitant and scary. There are still things that need to be sorted out, but right now, things are alright. Things are okay. The basis and the foundation are there.
You love each other. Without that, nothing else matters. With that, you and Ron can build and develop things from there. With love, all the hidden words will no longer be tucked away, slowly finding their way to the surface.
The future is uncertain, and there’s no telling if this will work out. But because you and Ron love each other, everything and anything is possible. With love, the future is endless.
Fin.
Likes are appreciated; reblogs are better
#hbowarsanta23#claudia writes#ronald spiers#ron spiers#ronald spiers x reader#ron spiers x reader#ronald spiers imagine#ronald spiers fic#ron spiers imagine#ron spiers fic#hbo war#op: 2023
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Reader is a fellow youtuber/influencer and they’re modelling a new set as a savagexfenty partner but she needs to have a guy in the photos and videos as well so she asks all her single friends but Colby is the only one down to help. Things get intimate and they start to see each other as more than friends
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I walk around the house, nervous. I face palm myself on the forehead when my friend i talk to on the phone tells me he's busy today.
"I know it's important to you, i'm sorry i can't be there today", he says and i nod like he can see me in any way.
"You're only the eleventh person to tell me that. No problem, see you soon Hayes."
I hang up and throw myself on the couch, my head in my hands and exhale loudly. I hear a ding and grab my phone from next to me. My face lights up and i smile when i see a picture from Colby, a silly photo of him and Sam from the road.
"Weirdos", i text and send to him and he facetimes me. "Hey, weirdo number 1,what's up?"
"It's the first time I'm glad I'm not number one at something", Sam laughs before Colby got the chance to answer and we all laugh at Sam's statement.
"Trust me, he's number one at being a pain in the ass too", i tell Sam and we both laugh, while colby gives us a fake angry face.
"Oh, how well i know that!"
"If you wanted to talk to y/n, you could've just facetime her, now shut up", Colby tells Sam and Sam taps with two fingers on the wheel.
"I'm driving, dude.", Sam defends himself and i giggle at their childish behaviour that always makes me feel better.
"Then eyes on the road and give me a chance to talk to my best friend", Colby's eyes grow wide in his funny way of changing face expressions
"Is she a bigger best friend than i am?", Sam asks and looks at his friend, faking his serious face as well as he could. From the angle of the phone, Sam and Colby looked like a crazy couple.
"Never", Colby answers and turns back to me. For a second i forgot i was talking to them. "Hi y/n, sorry for that", i smile and roll my eyes.
"It's ok, this reminds me why i declined moving in with you two. Where are you guys going?"
"Coming home, actually. We went to check something on Sam's car."
When Colby says that, my heart gets filled with joy.
"COLBY! I JAVE A FAVOUR TO ASK YOU!", i scream on the phone and get up from the couch because of the excitement. Both guys open their eyes wide at me because of my reaction. "Are you free at around 5 PM today? I have a photoshoot today for Savage x Fenty and i asked all my friends who are also into modelling and no one is free tonight. My partner called in sick two hours ago and there's nobody who can replace him at the agency. Can you replace him, please? Two hours maximum is the photoshoot.", i bite my lip nervously, waiting for Colby's answer. " Also, you're single and i talked to every single guy i know, i draw the line now because you're my only chance. ", i practically beg and look at his amused face, while i start feeling stupid.
"You know you could've asked from the beginning, right? Yeah, of course I'm coming with you. A chance for me to see pretty women and a chance for you to model for your dream line."
"Oh My God thank you thank you thank you"
We hang up a few moments later and after a while i hop in the shower to get ready to leave. I wash my hair, dry it and brush it as good as i can, so the hairstylist wouldn't spend half an hour to untangle it. I clean my face once more with a cleanser and prime it a bit so i wouldn't look like i just got out of the bed. I get dressed in my xplr merch, the purple combo, and head to my car to pick up Colby from their house. I pull up ten minutes later and Colby waited for me at the porch.
"I shouldn't have let you track my phone", i exhale when he gets inside
"It's for emergencies.", he closes the tracking app and puts his seat belt on.
"Was me picking you up an emergency? How?", i turn my wheel left-right and look around in the mirrors to make sure nobody hits me while leaving their street.
"It takes me a lifetime to get ready. When you said you're coming, i was in the shower", he laughs and i roll my eyes
"i knew it! You're never ready when i tell you I'm heading to pick you up. I was so confused when you told me you're done."
"That's why you showed up half an hour before?", he looks at me, smiling and i nod, smiling as well.
We drive another half an hour until we reach our destination, a studio downtown LA, used especially for photoshoots and music videos. We go to make up and hair, the process altogether taking close to fifty minutes, which is a lot for both me and Colby to take. Modelling is hard and since we're not quite in the industry, it's hard to wait such a long time for a natural light make up and wavy hair, or in Colby's pov, a slight comb through his messy hair.
I get dressed in the Floral Lace Teddy and i face palm myself in my head, realising Colby's gonna see me like this. My cheeks get red and i head towards the set to meet with him. My eyes widen when i see him already posing, wearing black carnival satin boxers, sitting in a chair, acing every pose. I look dreamily at him, the boxers suiting him perfectly and his concentrated expression gives him a sexy vibe. He catches my eye and smirks at me, but then he looks at me up and down, noticing what i am wearing. I swallow hard and my mouth dries up a little when his eyes linger a few more seconds at my chest, where he can see my nipples.
"Oh, you're here, great. We'll take some couple photos of you two, then single shots for you, ok?", the photographer tells me and i nod, heading towards Colby. I awkwardly stand next to him, unable to think in that moment and it seems like he can't either. " Ok, please take a sit on his lap, your back towards the camera so i cam photograph the back of that thing you're wearing.", he gestures around with his index finger and both Colby and i chuckle when we hear him say thing. I sit on Colby's lap and adjust myself to be comfortable. He looks up at my face while i do that and blush when i meet his eyes. He puts his hands on my waist and i hear the clicks of the camera. "great, now I'm gonna need some spicy shots, boy, please put your hands on her ass.", i chuckle when i the photographer calls Colby a boy and he rolls his eyes but immediately obeys and puts his hand on my ass, harshly.
"Asshole much?", i whisper and he bites his lip, smirking.
"Couldn't help it. You look amazing in this", Colby's raspy voice sends shivers to my entire body and his sight travels back to my almost exposed breasts, where my nipples are poking. I hold in my breath when he gets closer to me and expose my back, pulling my hair on the side of the shoulder.
"Amazing, thank you. Beautiful thing you have on", i laugh at the photographer's remark and relax a bit.
I get up from Colby and we start shooting again, this time both of us facing the camera. He goes behind me and puts one hand on my belly, while one of my hands holds him frkm behind his neck. We take a few shots facing the camera and then we switch again to sensual photoshooting. Colby gets back on the chair, which is seated sideways now, and i sit on him again, this time leaning back, giving him the opportunity to run his hands on my chest and over my breasts, as Michel, the photographer, instructs him to do. I breath heavily every time i feel Colby's fingers run over the thin lace and he tenses up every time he touches me. The boner he started having clearly doesn't do us no good, but i try a lot not to think about it when i get up from that leaning position and i lock eyes with him. He puts one hand around my neck like he's chocking me, but he's so gentle i barely feel his hand.
"Great, amazing", Michel shouts and clicks frenetically on the camera. "Good, we're done with these, go change. Next pair!", he shouts and motions us to leave the room fast, like he's not already paid to be there the whole day.
"You should keep these boxers. They suit you", i smirk and look down at him, his member not softening yet. He blushes and laughs.
"Sorry, i couldn't help it anymore. You look great in this thing"
"No worries. I have my side effects too", i think about my nipples poking out through the fabric and wave at him when i get in my dressing room. I change into the No Strings Attached set and take a few deep breaths before getting out of it. I don't understand why i am so nervous all of a sudden around Colby. I've known him for almost 5 years now, never have i felt like this, not even when we were all hanging out at the pool. Mistake or not, we would always hug each other and touch each other while having bathing suits on, yet everything was normal. I look at myself one more time in the mirror and slap my own ass, feeling myself. I see Colby in the mirror and i start laughing.
"Arrogant much?", he laughs too and i walk with him on set again, to film the commercial. Michel starts playing some music for the two of us to relax a little and to get in the mood. Once we felt ok, i approach Colby and he spins me around, our faces lighting up with happiness because of our good mood. He grabs me by my waist and pulls me closer to him and i grab him behind his neck and glue our foreheads together.
"Great, keep dancing, darlings. It's coming out great!"
"He's such a figure!", Colby shakes his head and i laugh, while spinning one more time and going back into his arms. My back was against his chest and he embraced me, his head in the crook of my neck, getting too comfortable and kissing on my neck and on my shoulder. I turn my back to the camera and face Colby, i cup his face in my hands and he puts his hands on the small of my back, bringing me even closer to him and all of a sudden, he pulls the strings of my underwear. Michel shouts cut! and i grab my strings to tie them back together, shooting Colby an angry look.
"Amazing, folks, that's all with you.", Michel looks in his camera, not disturbing himself to look at us one more time. I thank him and leave Colby behind, but he catches up with me in a second.
"Hey, hey", Colby grabs my hand and i turn to look at him.
"Why didn't you warn me about that?", i drag him into my dressing room to talk to him.
"I just got carried away and i thought it's gonna make a great end of shot. I'm sorry.", he leans back on my make up table and i cross my arms at my chest.
"It's ok, I'm sorry. I overreacted. I was nervous the whole day because of this shoot and now I'm throwing words around.", i shake my head and head over to my couch where i had my clothes grabbing them to go change.
"It's ok. Why were you nervous? You've done this before", Colby comes closer to me
"I was nervous to shoot with you actually. I knew what type of shoot it was going to be that's why i didn't ask you to come in first place, but i had no choice in the end. Meet me at the car, go change", i give him a smile and hit him playfully with my fist. He nods and leaves the room.
Driving home, none of us says anything. The radio plays overly heard songs that we both got tired of, but fortunately, we get home faster than expected. I park the car on their driveway and sigh.
"Thank you for helping me, Colbs. I owe you one", i tap his leg and take my hand away to rest it on the shifter.
"Anytime, y/n. I just.. You know we're never gonna be the same after today, right?", he looks at me, analysing my features.
"Why?", i play dumb and look straight ahead. I knew we are something else after all the intimate moments we've had in the past couple lf hours.
"I had you almost naked in my arms, y/n. You were dressed in the most intimate lingerie possible.", he says, voice a little too loud for the inconvenience we're having.
"I know, Colby, i know what you mean. I just don't want to acknowledge anything", i shout back and look at him. "We've seen the most of each other today and I'm aware of that. But we have to be chill about it"
"What? Why?"
"What do you mean why? Colby, we're friends, we can't just throw it away like that!", i throw my hands in the air
"What if i don't want to be just friends with you? What if i can't see you as a friend again?", he raises his voice and we both hold our gazes, tension thick as hell. I gulp.
"You don't see me as a friend anymore? Why?"
"Fucking hell, y/n. Maybe because you felt like you were mine? And it felt so good to experience this with you that it fucked with my mind so fucking much. You can't come up to my house tomorrow and act like i haven't touched your ass or kissed your breasts the day before. ", he inhales deeply and he holds his head in his hands. I grab his wrist to discover half of his face." What? ", he looks at me and i lean in to kiss him. Surprised, he leans back, but gets into the kiss immediately, his hands in my hair. He pulls at it and i gasp, giving him permission to slip his tongue inside my mouth. Colby moans when my hands travel to his abs, stopping above his belt. All of a sudden, a loud honk is heard right next to us. I let down the windows on Colby's side and encounter two overly excited figures, Sam and Kat, looking at us from Sam's car.
"Now I'm glad you didn't ask Sam to model with you", Kat shouts and we all laugh at her statement.
.
.
.
♥️I had so much fun writing it, hope u liked it
Disclaimer, i would've put the pictures of the sets I'm talking about in here, but i was afraid i would get restricted or something for nudity or some shit so i didn't take the risk.
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Pranks
Summary: You have had enough of Charles and his stupid TikTok prank.
Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!
Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
Thank you, and Enjoy! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
Charles is with his friends in the living room enjoying an aperitif in front of a football game when you finally get out of your office to prepare food. Not even a hello or anything. They all ignored you. You don’t hold it against them, but it annoys you a little.
For some days, Charles has discovered a new passion: TikTok challenges. So it goes from dancing to food and even jokes. He laughs about it with his friends, who find it highly amusing. You, a little less.
Because yes, you have been taken as a prime target. You are entitled to everything to your own annoyance.
You don’t know that you’re being filmed without your knowledge for yet another joke. When Charles finally speaks, you arrive at the kitchen counter and put your phone next to the lever to wash your hands.
“Bitch, what are we eating?”
Shocked, you turn off the running water and slowly gaze at your boyfriend. This is the last straw. You look at him silently without saying anything. Your eyes do not reveal any emotion; it is only when you decide to move that Charles begins to regret his prank.
You still answer nothing and walk to the door with his keys and coat. You slam the door and run down the apartment's stairs to reach the parking lot. You walk quickly towards Charles' Ferrari. You sit on the driver’s side and start the engine. You see in the distance Charles running in.
You don’t wait another second; you step out of the square and start heading out.
“Wait! Wait Y/n. I’m sorry,” yelled Charles trying to open the door.
Annoyed, frustrated and sad, you don’t want to listen to what he says and go out. You drive towards Carqueiranne, a small town by the sea south of France. You drive for two hours before arriving on the coast. The sun slowly begins to set away. You got the music in the car, your sunglasses on your nose, and you’re singing the lyrics all over the place. You deliberately ignore the vibrations on your phone, which you know, from Charles. You finally get to the front of your grandparents' house.
“Open, it’s me!” You say through the small intercom.
They let you in, and you go up the small slopes of the house to park on the side. You get out of your car and take off your sunglasses. You put on the hat you found in the back of the car and walk towards the garden where your grandparents are reunited with some friends for dinner.
“Sorry to barge in unannounced, but I was walking by, and I thought, why not,” you say, hugging everyone across the table.
“You are always welcome. Have you eaten?” Ask your grandmother when you get up to give you a well-stocked plate.
“No, but I’m super hungry.” You sit in the empty chair and take the wine we offer you. “Thank you.”
“So, what brings you? Is it your car? “ Ask your grandpa, looking at the car you walk in.
“No, it belongs to my boyfriend, Charles.”
“Oh, Charles. Can we find out more? How long have you guys been together? Where did you meet him?”
“It will soon be eight months that we are together,” you answer, laughing in front of the many questions everyone is asking. “He’s a racer, and we met at the Austin Grand Prix in the states.”
“Charles, as in Charles Leclerc, the Monegasque driver for Ferrari.”
“Yes, he.” You’re smiling.
Continuous conversation is good for talking to people you’ve known all your life. They don’t see Charles' girlfriend, the great Charles Leclerc. No. They see Y/n as the one and the only. You even posted a small private story on your Instagram account to celebrate this moment. You’re having a wonderful evening when you suddenly hear honking noises coming from the road. You get up to see who the crazy guy is who honks like crazy.
“Y/n,” he yells once he sees people approaching.
“Charles?” You exclaim as you get closer.
“I’m sorry! I’m an asshole.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Please come back. I am gonna stop the TikTok thing. I just realized how much you...”
“No more TikTok or prank!”
“I promise,” he says, getting closer to you to hug you. “I told the guys to fuck off. I was so scared you left me for good.”
“Well, I was thinking about it if you didn’t run after me like you did,” You respond, your head on his chest and hugging him tightly.
“If you ever let me talk to you like that. You better smack the shit out of me! If I ever speak to you like that, do you understand?”
“Yeah...”
“Good, because I love you too much, babe, to lose you.”
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1#prank#wrong
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An Army of Two
Belphie
I gently knock on MC's bedroom door, hoping that they're still awake--or, at the very least, not too deep in their sleep. After all, it is pushing two in the morning; the likelihood of them being up is pretty low.
To my pleasant surprise, they open their door moments later.
"Is everything okay?" they ask, stifling a yawn.
"There's an emergency," I tell them, making sure I sound serious. "I'll explain everything when we get outside, but we have to leave, and quickly."
"O-Okay. Can I at least change out of my pjs first?"
"Of course." MC shuts the door so that they have some privacy, but then they step out of their room a few minutes later. Together, we quietly head downstairs and into the garage. Opening a nearby toy chest, I begin fishing out various weapons and sticking them in various pockets. I don't know if what we're dealing with is human or not, and I don't want to take any chances, especially where Diavolo is concerned.
"Still got your knife?" I ask MC, glancing up at them. In response, they pull their jacket off to the side, revealing a sheath clipped onto their pants.
"Good. You might need it." I pull out a few small, human-safe blades and hand them to MC, who mimics what I've done with mine. It's a little strange that they haven't bombarded me with questions. They may be too tired to think straight, or perhaps they're extremely trusting, but either way it's a bit unsettling.
Once I've ensured that we're both armed, I grab the keys to the least grandiose car we have--a simple black four-door sedan--off its hook and hit the unlock button. I get in the driver's seat, and MC on the passenger's side. Soon, we're out on the road.
"Am I finally allowed to know what exactly is going on, or am I to remain oblivious?" MC asks me, clearly irritated. Making sure most of my focus is on the road, I reply,
"Someone's taken Diavolo. He left me a note."
"What did it say?"
"To the untrained eye, it was him trying to make amends with me. But we already had that talk several months ago, so I immediately knew something was wrong. As it turns out, he hid the actual message by making some of the letters bolder than others. He knew that I'd be able to decode it quickly once I figured it out."
"And he addressed it to you because...?"
"I'm able to keep a level head in crises. Everyone else either freaks out or shuts down completely, so they aren't able to be very helpful."
"Is that why you chose me to accompany you?"
"Partially. I was fully prepared to do this on my own, but I really didn't want to. It's always nice to have an extra set of hands. Plus, you've been able to remain calm in similar situations in the past, so I figured you could handle something like this."
"Well, I'm glad you trust me enough to do this." I find myself smiling slightly.
"I am, too." Things are silent for a few minutes before MC speaks up again.
"So, where are we going?"
"An amusement park."
"That's a strange place to take someone you've kidnapped."
"Depends. Whoever's behind this could need the space."
"For what?"
"Dark magic." MC doesn't respond. I wonder if I've scared them. I mean, I don't know what all Solomon has taught them so far. I hope that he's at least breached the subject with them, but it's hard telling with him sometimes. I can never get a good sense of his priorities.
At a stoplight, I turn my head to take a proper look at MC and freeze. The look on their face is downright terrifying, like they're seconds away from murdering someone.
"MC?" They take a deep breath.
"Listen, I don't know how helpful I'm going to be, but I'm not about to let some fucking lunatics hurt Diavolo. Not without a fight."
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick
#obey me shall we date#obey me mc#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me lord diavolo#wrote most of this on sticky notes while i was bored at work
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bad pt ii | d. dennis
in which you he shows just who he truly is.
u busy
you couldnt help but stare at the message on your screen contemplating how to answer. looking back you felt that you had previously been all too eager to say no just to see the man, but deep down you had always knew this situation was not ideal.
you knew you were more than just quick, passing through town pussy, but why did it feel like you weren’t. why did this man have such an impact on you and most importantly why did you let him?
yes
you responded before you realized what you had done and you threw your phone down on your bed panic and anxiety settling and swelling in your stomach. why did it feel so bad putting yourself first?
almost immediately your phone pinged & the feeling inside worsened. you sat there a few moments steading your breath before picking it back up.
too bad im outside
the words angered you and slammed the phone back down in frustration.
“who the fuck does he think he is, showing up unannounced and uninvited. he can treat me like shit on his terms now too.” you said to yourself and just like clock work your phone began to ring.
you hastily declined and layed down on your bed only for it to ring for a second time to which you answered angrily.
“what the fuck do you want?” you said, annoyance dripping from your words.
“damn ma its like that now?” he chuckled, low voice on the other end filled with amusement.
“what do you want duke?” you said again voice firm.
“man let me in.” he said tone more serious this time.
“no, go home.” you protested.
“you are home.” you could almost hear his smile through the phone.
you couldnt help but laugh at this, “nigga please. get the fuck on somewhere with that bullshit.”
“im forreal bro let me in i wanna see you before i hit the road.” he said and you were willing to bet he was playing with his locs.
“too bad.” you say copying his words before hanging up the phone.
satisfaction was only temporary because only seconds later he was banging on your front door. you jumped at the noise, fear now running through you.
you slowly crept to the door as the noise continued, cringing as it become louder and more frequent. you sighed and took a big breath before opening it only to be met by the heavily tatted man.
“i told you to go home.” you said, voice not letting off the nervousness that was in your gut.
you could barely stand to look him in the eye as you said it. his usually happy demeanor was gone and his eyes were dark and were full of something you had not seen before.
its like he noticed a crack in your facade before he launched himself in your house slamming your door shut behind him and wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you body into his. usually this would have made you elated, but not this time.
“you think that shit was fucking cute huh?” he said, grabbing you by your chin forcing you to look at him.
your eyes wide, you dont respond. it was scary seeing him like this. he was the big bad wolf and you were a helpless lamb.
“oh so now you dont wanna say nothing.” he says leaning down in your ear. “when i say let me in you fucking let me in. that sassy shit aint gone get you nowhere.”
his warm breath on you sent chills right down your being and you could feel your pussy begin to throb. you could now his his dick pressing against your stomach and you begin to ache for it.
your eyes shift from his eyes too his lips as your closeness begins to overwhelm your senses as you can suddenly smell his cologne and feel his body heat. he smirks only before leaning in and brushing your lips against his. you cant help but lean into the movement wanting- needing more.
you felt the desperation beginning to make its way back front and center. oh how he could turn you into a mess in a matter of moments. he was more than just a dominating prescience this time- he had a particular darkness about him that usually was not there.
“p-please.” you stammer out voice barely above a whisper.
“please what?” he quizzes a small smile gracing his face and soft lips still hovering yours.
“use me.” you say giving in.
a devilish grin replace the smile and he pulls you too him and smashes his lips against yours, large hands sliding themselves into your lounge pants and yanking them down.
he grips your ass as he picks you up and sits down on the grey couch with in his lap. your bare pussy grinding down onto his gray sweatpants surely leaving a mark but neither of you care in the moment as he pulls his lips from yours and begin sucking on your neck.
“fuck.” you cry out as his hand goes under your top and begins to rub your nipples between his digits. you grind down onto him hard as he does this, friction of the fabric barely soothing your aching clit. yours hands go to the back of his neck pulling him closer to you.
“ yeah that’s it mama grind on that dick.” he growls voice full of desire. your throw your head back at his words, before reaching down to pull his leaking length from his pants and rubbing yourself against the unclothed skin covering it with your slickness.
“ouuu shit baby, just like that.” he grunts this time throwing his head back and letting it rest on the back of the couch.
you use the words as encouragement as you continue to rub yours clit down the length of his dick, both of your slickness mixing into one and intensifying the sensation.
with the slightest move upwards with his hips he slides into your effortlessly earning a loud moan.
as you begin to bounce on his length he pulls up your top and grabs your breast, squeezing them in his hands.
“this all you needed aint it? some dick to help you remember who i am to you, what i am to you.” you hear him growl, his nimble fingers going down to massage your clit.
“without this dick aint shit bout you right, you need me to make you whole. you need me. you need me fucking you, showing you all that you are in this world is a slut for me.” he says voice drunk on desire and the words fill your ears like scripture.
you cry out in orgasmic bliss as you realize your reality. duke is everything. he is like an addiction- as bad as you know he is, you need him & when you go too long without him you get disoriented, irritable, and seeking a release that only he can fulfil.
“yes daddy, i need you.” you mewl out riding out your orgasm as he buries his head in your chest and begins to thrust upwards into you like he’s gone mad.
struggled grunts escape his lips as he buries himself into with a long final stroke and you feel the all too familiar sensation flooding your insides serving as an escape from the high you just experienced and you are coming back to reality realizing what you just did.
disgust and frustration fill your being almost immediately and you hurriedly pull yourself from his lip, your insides leaking onto his dick and lap as you stood.
“get the fuck out.” you anger beginning to bubble over.
“man what?” he says breathlessly.
“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT DUKE.” you scream irritation coming to fruition.
he looks up at you at this surprise clear in his face & yours not budging. his eyes are searching yours for any hint of weakness but finding non.
“GO.” you scream for one final time before storming off to your bedroom and slamming the door & locking it.
you were done with duke and you vowed to rid yourself of your addiction of him. as much as you wanted to see him in the light everyone else did you knew that would never happen. you always tried making excuses about who he was but you seen him now for who he was- it was just bad.
#duke dennis#duke dennis x reader#fanfic#amp#fanum tax#kai cenat#gaming#smut#twitch#streaming#daddy k!nk#dark#agent00
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The 'Off Menu' Blurbs (Joseph Quinn x gn!Reader)
a/n: heyo! was toying up whether to post this as one or multiple blurbs but decided to do just one bc i'm tired lol. any feedback is greatly appreciated! xx
SYNOPSIS: A collection of blurbs based on each of Joe's courses from the Off Menu podcast, chronicling his and reader's relationship
WARNINGS: slight nsfw mention but very light, mention of reader wearing an outift with bare arms, alcohol and food consumption (lmk if there's anything else!)
OYSTERS & GUINNESS
It was warm in London for a change. You swore you’d never seen the streets so lively since you’d lived there–it was a nice deviation from the normal, private, English stiff-upper-lip London you were used to–people sat out on their balconies for supper and well into the evening as the sun painted the sky a sultry orange.
You and Joe did try to make the most out of the day, but it was just too hot to function. You’d broken out the flowiest outfit you owned and Joe was trying to stay cool in a pair of shorts and a light linen shirt–which gave you the most perfect view of the light spottings of chest hair with his chain laying on top so you could hardly complain. But as the sun beat down on the concrete outside, the two of you seeked solace in your flat with the fan on full blast, devouring a full pack of ice-lollies between you.
As the sunlight began to drip down the horizon, The Big Smoke finally received some kind of relief. After spending all day inside, you were beginning to go a little stir-crazy, not to mention your itchy feet from hearing the hubbub outside.
“Do you want to go for a little walk?” you asked Joe as he came back inside from your balcony after having a smoke. You were sat on the sofa during the early evening, barely even paying attention to what was playing on TV; you had more on your mind.
Joe thought for a second, closing the balcony door and putting his cigarette packet on your side table next to it. “Yeah, why not? D’you wanna get dinner or something?”
“We’ll see what’s open and around.” You stood up to slip on some sandals and grab your phone and whatnot, while Joe did the same, before the pair of you strolled out of your apartment building hand in hand.
The air was still thick from the sweltering day, but there was a light breeze that blew through the street, barely enough to move your hair, but enough to give you the smallest hint of a chill on your bare arms. Joe removed his hand from your grasp, instead opting to pull you into the side of him with an arm absently rubbing your shoulder.
Shops were beginning to close up for the night, which worried you a little, until you found a small shack-like oub about 15 minutes down the road. It didn’t seem too busy, at least the couple of tables set up outside were empty.
You looked to Joe as you both began to slow your pace in front of it. Joe let out a ‘hmm?’ with a questioning look–asking ‘does this look alright?’. You nodded before grabbing his forearm and lightly pulling him into the small pub-like establishment.
There was a young woman behind the bar who smiled at the two of you as you walked in. Before long you were both seated at one the cast iron tables on the footpath, you with some kind of fizzy spritzer and Joe with a pint of Guinness on the way, along with a plate of some oysters–you figured it would be worthwhile with the weather and all.
There was a comfortable air around you as Joe excitedly told you about a project his agent was trying to get him an audition for, his mouth was going a million miles a minute and he frantically waved his hands about as he walked you through the plot and what part he wanted to play–along with how he’d play it. It always amused you when he got so moved by his job, seeing him so enthusiastic simply tickled you pink and he definitely knew it.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, looking to you with wide–yet playful–eyes as he took a break in his spiel.
“Just don’t forget to breathe, babe,” you chuckled, which made him smile quite sheepishly before the woman from behind the bar stepped outside again to bring the pint and plate or oysters–raw, of course. You both thanked her before beginning to dig in, leisurely.
“‘m sorry, darling,” Joe began, taking a sip from his glass. “Just really excited about this role-really want it!”
“And I’m sure you’ll nail the audition!” you answered. “And it’ll get like a thousand award nominations and I can be your cheerleader when you win!”
Joe laughed again–a sound you’ll never get sick of, nor the sight of him holding his hand to his mouth trying to hide his smile. “Here’s to hoping…”
And so, the pair of you spent that summer night at the small pub-shack–that you regretted never catching the name of, even years later when you tried to track it down again, only to find it had since shut down–eating your oysters and talking about whatever random thought crossed your mind, simply living in the love around you and Joe; a night you will certainly never forget.
~~~~~~~
STEAK TARTARE & DIRTY MARTINIS
Hollywood was a scary place to say the least. Everywhere you went, you felt out of place–and you couldn’t shake the feeling that the people around you were thinking the exact same thing. That was the exact reason you preferred to stay in the small BnB you and Joe had rented while he had to go to some meetings in LA–with you tagging along for the fun of it.
It almost felt pitiful, you were hiding away while Joe was working and meeting brand new, exciting people, though you didn’t dare tell him–he didn’t need to be worried about you, you just had to get through a couple more days of isolation before you could hop back on a plane with your love, back to your city and your bed, you could handle it.
You began watching some new show only available in the states during your stay–perched on the sofa with a small blanket and a bag of okay crisps to keep you going. You didn’t even realise how quickly the day had passed until you heard the front door open, along with the clang of keys on the table and some shoes shuffling in the hallway.
“Honey! I’m home!” Joe called out in a sing songy voice, walking into the living room and looking at the TV, standing behind the couch. “What’s going on now?”
“She’s about to find out who murdered the cop-remember I told you about him? He used to live in the city but he moved to the town?” you rambled. Joe had caught glimpses of the show that had taken your attention, though he wasn’t nearly as invested as you were. You barely looked at him, keeping your focus on the screen ahead of you.
Joe circled around the couch to sit next to you, slowly grabbing the remote before pausing it, finally getting your attention. “D’you wanna go out for dinner tonight?”
“Could I give it a miss? I don’t really feel like going to some Hollywood dinner…” you answered, tentatively. “‘ts just not really my scene…y’know?”
It finally dawned on Joe–how could he have missed this?–he’d been so busy, getting caught up in the LA of it all to notice that you’d become somewhat of a recluse in the City of Angels. It was fate that he had plans other than networking tonight.
“I meant just us tonight.” He grabbed both your hands, looking at you with a face of pure adoration–mixed with the slightest amount of concern for you. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since we’ve been here, there’s this diner on Hollywood Boulevard I wanna take you to–it’s apparently like this institution and it’s like classic American diner food. Though you’d love it..”
It was very sweet of Joe to think of you, and you had began to wallow in self pity just a little throughout the day–maybe it would actually be good to go out and get a bite instead of staying in like you did every other night, you just had to work up the courage.
“Just let me get dressed.” You didn’t even let him answer before you jumped up from your seat to the bedroom you were temporarily staying in, looking through your suitcase for something appropriate. “Casual or more fancy?” you called out to Joe a few feet away, stood on the doorway.
“Casual-yeah. I’m just wearing this.” He waved over his outfit, light wash jeans, a white graphic t shirt and white sneakers–you chose a similar ensemble.
In a matter of half an hour you two were stepping out of an Uber and slipping into a red leather booth at Musso & Frank’s Grill. The dark wood of the room made it feel very comforting, and the old waiter in a red tuxedo jacket made sure you and Joe were settled before letting you read through the menu.
It didn’t take long for you to decide on your courses, nor Joe. After your orders were taken you couldn’t help but notice how the lights seemed to soften in Joe’s eyes, and he had gained the start of a tan from the California sun.
“Thank you,” you began. “For bringing me here–getting me out of the house…” The gesture wasn’t lost on you, and you were grateful you didn’t fall by the wayside.
Joe just looked at you, before placing a hand on your thigh and giving it a quick squeeze. “Of course, darling. ‘s why I wanted you to come with me, wanted to experience it all with you.”
That man never failed to make you smile. “Love you…” you answered, scotting a few inches closer to him in the booth to put a head on his shoulder while you waited for your meal.
~~~~~~~
ORECCHIETTE ALLA BARESE & BANG AVERAGE WHITE WINE
Italy was an absolute dream. Days spent exploring the ancient cities, browsing through every souvenir shop you’d come across, and of course, the food. You and Joe were alike with your love of food, and the Italians just knew how to make it right.
On your weeklong trip, you and Joe had decided to try a different restaurant every day and night for lunch and dinner, and it had been working out wonderfully for the pair of you so far. Having a foodie for a boyfriend had its perks, if you didn’t like whatever you ordered, he’d gladly switch with you if his dish sounded more appetising to you.
Oftentimes though, you’d end up just ordering the same dish if you fancied, and that situation normally ended up with you both making obscene noises to each other over the table because–you couldn’t lie–you both had good taste. In fact, that’s been the most common tactic for you both while on holiday.
You couldn’t stop eyeing Joe all evening, in a cream cotton leisure suit with a baby blue button-up underneath, paired with a light sunburn on the top of his nose–after all, he was an Englishman on holiday in the Mediterranean–he looked the perfect picture for your memories of your trip to the country, and he knew exactly what was swirling through your mind as you continued to stare at him all throughout dinner, letting the occasional smirk swipe across his face when he’d catch your gaze, placing a hand on your thigh that slowly began to inch higher and higher.
Your frustration, you realised, was only beginning as Joseph asked the waiter for a subpar white wine–the subpar white wine, a sign he was planning on going in for the night. You see, you and Joe had a philosophy when it came to wine, unless compared to other wines, the quality doesn’t matter, what did matter–at least to Joe during times like these–was how you both seemed to get more of a buzz off of wine than anything else, which always made for a fun night.
You enjoyed the game with Joe, the flirting and innuendos–especially when you both knew you’d end up screwing at the end of the night anyway, it was just more fun to engage in the pursuit. You both liked watching each other squirm, it was a competition between the two of you. First, he’d start playing with his ring, ‘absentmindedly’ sliding it up and down his finger while making sure you were watching, and then you’d say you were getting too hot so you’d constantly be pushing your hair away from your face and chest to give him a good view, and then before you’d know it, your foot would be sliding up his pant leg while he’d be begging you to abandon the rest of dinner and just go back to your hotel room already–”we can just order room service after-later! I meant later, when we’re both more hungry!”.
But tonight, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold out like you normally did, between what may have been the best plate of pasta you’d ever eaten in your life, and the start of a buzz growing in your head from the cheap wine Joe had insisted on getting, your self-control was beginning to falter, you could barely keep a conversation by dessert.
“Darling, have you been listening to anything I just said?” Joe asked with a smirk, snapping you out the trance that his light stubble held over you for a moment too long. “You looked all spaced out…”
“‘m just…” you began, stretching your back and pushing your chest out. “Just a bit tired is all. Ready to head back…”
Joe let out a short huff, smiling at you–while you sat across from him at the table, head jokingly hung low in defeat. “Well then…. ‘ll pay if you go call a taxi, can’t leave you hanging, can I?”
You couldn’t help but smile, you may have lost, but in a way it wasn’t bad, not when you caught that particular glint in Joe’s eye that only meant there wouldn’t be any rest for you any time soon.
~~~~~~~
BIG BUTTERY FISH WITH DAUPHINOISE POTATO & NICE WHITE WINE
It was always interesting to see how Joseph interacted with his friends–always caught you off guard just how much he loved being at the centre of the party, especially when he was always so soft-spoken and tentative with you–it piqued your interest when you two first began dating and he told you all about the big dinner parties he’d held for friends since way back in his teens when he was still living in his childhood home, you couldn’t wait to see just what he meant when he said he’d put on a feast for a king.
It took months in the making, but the two of you had managed to invite just under a dozen of your closest friends over for a dinner get together one late June evening, and you’d gone all out.
Between the tacky-yet-endearing Poundland decorations you’d hung around your back garden, to the LED speakers you’d been blasting anything from ABBA to Frank Sinatra on, your place was ready for a party. And then there was the menu, you and Joe spent weeks brainstorming the most perfect menu that was filled with fresh, seasonal ingredients that complimented each other, and a specialty drink, which when you couldn’t decide, you just decided to pop to the off-licence in search of whatever white wine they had the most of–because knowing his friends, you’d need a lot of it.
The pair of you worked well in the kitchen, while Joe took care of roasting the fish you’d picked out fresh that morning, and you worked on layering the Dauphinoise potato, you were a well-oiled machine.
“Could be on one of those cooking shows, like Come Dine With Me but for couples,” he joked, hanging up the apron he’d brought special for the night–plain white with ‘KISS THE COOK’ in big, scribbly lettering.
“Pretty sure they already did that a couple years ago, love,” you answered, making sure everything was in its place in the kitchen before your guests began to arrive, being cut off by the doorbell.
“Well we’d win it!” Joe called as he walked down the hallway to answer the door, making you laugh and setting your mind at ease before the social labour you were about to endure. You heard a chorus of ‘hello’s and ‘how’re you going?’s in the next room as you finished wiping down the counters in the kitchen, eager to make a good first impression, and that you did.
The night went much easier than you’d built up in your head, thanks in a large part to Joe, who would check up on you periodically to make sure you felt included in the conversation, your social battery was depleting, and you weren’t becoming overtired. The group began to thin out at around eleven, and just yourself and Joe were left alone by midnight.
You were grateful for the fact that after dinner, Joe announced it was time to help clean, creating an assembly line in your kitchen as your guests took turns scrubbing and drying the plates and cutlery while the two of you took a seat in the living room.
“We cooked a five star meal for you all! The least you could do is the washing up, ungrateful pricks!” he joked, voice heavy and slurred due to the several bottles of white wine you’d all shared in the few hours since the little get together began.
As much fun as you had, it felt good to take off your makeup and slip into your bed with Joe, engulfed by your duvet, finally letting your mind rest as your home was once again quiet and the only light still left on was the lamp on your bedside table.
“D’you have fun, darling? I know they can all be a bit much at times…” Joe nuzzled into your neck, barely leaving enough room on your own pillow for you to lay down properly.
“No, no, it was a great night…” you answered, grabbing his hand that hovered over your hip underneath the bed sheets. “Dinner was really good, good fish.”
Joe let out a ‘hmph’ while trying to move even closer into your side, his eyes closed and his breathing was beginning to even out. Somehow, in only a t-shirt and boxers, Joe could always manage to keep the two of you warm, leaving your bed during the night became a tried and true effort when he stayed over because the second you’d pull the covers off of your body, you’d be quickly reminded of the comfort you’d grown so accustomed to in your slumber.
Before long, the man next to you let out a few snores, letting you know he’d finally drifted off, leaving you to recount the night, and just how much you loved your cooking partner, who would make a killer buttery fish.
~~~~~~~
DUKE’S MARTINI
It was an exciting night for you and Joe–the night of your anniversary. In all honesty it crept up on the two of you–between Joe’s career skyrocketing and simply the fact that in the past year, the two of you were in a place that felt like you’d known each other for a lifetime, and frankly you just forgot to count out the date months ago.
It wasn’t until you received a notification a week prior from your Facebook about a post you’d made that reminded you of the date and it’s significance. You both were frantic trying to prepare surprises that seemed adequate enough for the occasion–you’d gone the traditional route, the first anniversary gift is a clock so you got Joe a new watch, and a nice one at that, while Joe wanted to go for something more to do with an experience rather than a tangible gift. He almost regretted how much he had to namedrop to get a reservation at Duke’s in Mayfair on such short notice, though he wouldn’t do it for anyone else, you were the one thing special that would force him to run to the ends of the earth if he had to.
So by some miracle, he managed to snag an eight-thirty dinner reservation at the upscale restaurant. Dressed in your finest, you were confused about where he was taking you–keeping it a secret from you was part of the fun, he decided, so he simply told you to dress as fancy as you could and be ready to go at eight. It wasn’t until you’d finally stepped out of the taxi that you realised where he’d brought you.
“Ready for London’s best martini, my love?” he joked as you both stood outside on the footpath, hooking your arms together and walking in through the front doors. Martinis had kind of been ‘your thing’ with Joseph. Before you got together, he’d never met a person who’d enjoy a dirty martini like he did–while all your friends couldn’t understand why you didn’t just always opt for a fruity cocktail or a pint when you went out all together, just to make it easy. But the two of you enabled each other in your cocktail snobbiness. In fact, you’d mentioned the iconic Duke’s martini to Joe before, wanting to try it together was on your bucket list.
The bar reminded you of something out of the Titanic, with the decadent blue velvet seating, the classically painted portraits decorating the walls, and the bartenders decked out in waistcoats and white blazers–it was a little intimidating in the moment.
After you were settled and ordered, you sat in comfortable silence with Joe, who was admiring his new watch still, making you smile.
“Hey, what’s the time?” you joked, snapping Joe out of his trance. He playfully showed off his wrist to you–the sixth time since you’d given it to him, you were just glad he liked it.
“It’s…” he paused to build suspense. “Time to get a watch. No, it’s eight-fifty.”
You couldn’t help but look all around the room, there were just so many intricate details of the room–Joe was doing the same, pointing out the portraits while you whispered to him about the amount of different bottles stored behind the bar.
You felt out of place but not alone, Joseph was acting just the same as you–as a giddy child trying to be quiet and as well behaved as possible at a fancy museum–but that was part of why you loved Joe, he always did what he could to make you comfortable, it was his top priority. Whether he was just keeping a hold on your hand as you walked down the street together or making sure you were included in conversation, asking you if you remember a particular story and prompting you to tell it, or simply putting your pleasure above his, he never faltered.
To put it simply, you were a goner a long time ago, and celebrating a full year together just solidified that for you. No words, nor a figure, could describe the amount of love you had for him, and he to you, so much so it made you uneasy at first. But as you began to put your feelings into words–as best you could–you realised you’d finally found your person–the one, if you will, and Joe felt the same. In a year, you learnt so much, experienced so much, and loved enough for a thousand lifetimes, perhaps more.
~~~~~~~
MADELEINES FROM THE FRENCH HOUSE
You hated being busy, you hated when Joe was busy, and when those two events overlapped, it was almost like your own personal hell. Between your deadlines and Joe’s constant travel, you had almost no time together, for weeks on end–and you could barely get by with your sparse phone calls when you had a free ten minutes.
It seemed well overdue when Joe had finally gotten back to London after jet setting around the world, doing the famous actor thing. You were so proud of Joe–of course, you were–but you just missed him. And even being in the same city, you still had client dinners and it seemed like you’d have to work well into the wee hours of the morning just to be on track to finish on time.
Your only solace was your lunch hour–which you’d had to convince yourself to even take after begging from Joe to just take some time for yourself. You and Joe had plans to meet at the French House in Soho–a five minute walk from your office. He’d made it easy for you, already ordered your favourites so you’d be able to just sit, eat, and spend some time with your lonesome boyfriend.
You’d sat down in a rush, not before giving him a kiss–you’d missed the feeling of his lips on yours, you’d missed breathing in his scent, and seeing the way he’d scan over your body–it wasn’t lost on you in the slightest.
Your lunch was delicious–Joe knew you like the back of his hand, he’d even ordered dessert to be baked while you ate so your fresh madeleines would be ready right after you finished eating. And of course, the conversation was vivacious and lively–you both talked about your work, he told you about Brazil, you told him about the jokes the new intern was making that caused your whole office to crack up laughing.
There was an air of domesticity to it all, Joe was very happy to play the doting boyfriend while you were busy being a superstar in your field, you’d done the same for him so if anything it felt only fair. It all just felt easy for you, Joe made it easy. He’d thought it all through, even already gave the waiter his card so you didn’t have to worry about paying while you frantically looked at the time and realised you’d better get back to work–though not before another kiss, and a promise that when your deadline was over, you’d thank him–and really thank him, causing him to blush, even as a grown man in a crowded restaurant.
#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn imagine#joseph quinn drabble#joseph quinn blurb#joseph quinn x you#joseph quinn fluff#joseph quinn fic#joseph quinn fanfiction
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forty days and forty nights (day ten!)
(short one today my lil cherry blossoms :) i’ll make it for it i promise!!)
(read them all here!)
you thought a lot about how bakugo came at the exact same time every day. you had mixed reactions about it, ranging between anywhere from concerned or amused depending on the day. you decided to ask about it next time he came in.
“hey, loser.” bakugo greeted. you’d accepted that he wouldn’t get polite the longer you knew him. he’d just get more casual.
“medium black coffee for bakugo, coming up.” you hummed, tapping the computer as he swiped his card. save for yesterday, it was the only thing that really varied— the way he paid. not that it mattered to you, anyway.
“so, you come at the same time every day.” you begin as you slide him his coffee across the counter.
“so what?” was his snappy response.
“i was just curious is all. kirishima seemed to imply that his patrols vary.” you shrug. “don’t yours?”
“yeah. but i’m always done at 4. then i do the reports and shit til 4:50ish.”
“ish?” you raise an eyebrow. “you get here at 4:56 exactly every day, without fail.”
“obviously. i don’t fail.” bakugo replied bluntly.
“so where are your patrols anyway?” bakugo begins to list road names, but you interrupt him.
“i don’t know road names.” you state. perhaps bakugo’s blunt nature was rubbing off on you. bakugo rolled his eyes.
“god, can you get any more damn clueless?” bakugo rolled his eyes, scoffing. you sheepishly pull out your phone and slide it over, the map app open. bakugo groaned and reluctantly began marking points of interest on it.
“i start here, see?” he taps the screen impatiently and you nod.
“at your agency. makes sense.”
“and it’s a big loop.”
“also makes sense.”
bakugo slowly begins to point out each corner and turn on the map, and you chime in with the landmarks that you always refer to when on said corners. you work through it like that for about half an hour.
“i think i’ve got it memorized.” you laugh.
“weirdo.” bakugo tched. you grin, embracing the title.
“maybe one day i’ll find you on your patrol and just bring your coffee to you.” you joke. bakugo looked at you with disdain.
“you think a villain’s gonna listen if i go, ‘hold on a sec, i gotta have a sip of my coffee first’?” bakugo drawled. “like hell.”
“i’d listen.” you smile smugly.
“oh, fuck off. like you’d ever have it in you to be a villain, much less go up against me.” bakugo snorted.
“yeah, you’re right,” you agree. “i’m not made for the hero business.”
“you made that clear when you didn’t know who i was.” bakugo glared, albeit without much malice.
“are you ever gonna let that go?”
“no.”
“god, can you get any more damn clueless?”
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(feel free to comment + leave ur thoughts :)
tags: @k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity
#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#bakugou#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha#mha#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo oneshot#coffee shop au#pro hero bakugo x reader
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The Road Ahead - Epilogue | Frankie Morales x female reader
Series Masterlist
Previous Chapter
For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.
But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.
Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)
Word Count: 4K
Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty
Chapter Summary: This isn't the end, rather it is just the beginning of the rest of your life.
Notes: All right everyone, this is it. I can't believe this story is over, I am so happy I took the plunge and started to post online. This experience has been wonderful and you all have been amazing. Thank you to everyone who commented, liked or reblogged this story you guys helped me so much when I thought about giving up. If ever anyone wants more content from this universe I'd be more than happy to answer any prompts or asks. Now I am unto my Joel Miller x reader fic, I know a bunch of you want to be tagged and I am working on figuring out how :D
Hope you all enjoy this last chapter and in the meantime, take care of yourselves and I love you all very much xoxox
Family
"Here you go, a large sparkling water with three slices of lemon. You know I would've made a lemonade if you wanted; it would probably taste better than that stuff. Smells sour as hell." Will puts the large glass on the small table next to the pool lounge chair. You smile over your sunglasses.
"Thanks, Will. I really appreciate it," you express with gratitude. "Lemonade is just too sweet, these days only something that packs a good sour punch can even begin to curb my cravings. I think that if I send Frankie on another midnight hunt for Warheads, he might just end up moving back in with Alma," you add playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes. As you speak, you pluck one of the large lemon slices off the glass and eagerly sink your teeth into the tangy, bitter flesh, savouring the burst of sour flavour hitting your tongue.
Will scrunches his nose. "Fish told me he saw you put a whole bag of Sour Patch Kids in your vanilla milkshake last week. Anything else we gotta be worried about, except for major heartburns and fried taste buds?" Will teases. You playfully put one of your hands on your taut round stomach. "Gotta keep the little one happy, and he insists that a milkshake with Sour Patch Kids is the breakfast of champions." Will smiles, trying to hide his amusement. "Hope you're still getting all of your food groups, though." You roll your eyes in jest. "My goodness, you're worse than Frankie. Don't worry, this isn't my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing." Will raises his hands in surrender. "My apologies didn't mean to offend. I know you know what you're doing. I just want to make sure you're all right.” A pause, as pregnant as you are, emerges “Are you alright?"
A giddy smile makes its way to your face. "Better than ever. Honestly, you have nothing to worry about, Will. I am thriving," you exclaim as you shimmy your shoulders in a little up-and-down dance. Will softens at your little display. "I am glad, then. You know I am always there if you need anything, right?" "I know, Will. And thank you." You hum in response before a comfortable silence opens between you two as Will looks over to where his brother is trying his best to not burn the burgers under Pope’s disapproving glare.
You gasp as you feel your baby start kicking you as if there's a goddamn karate class going on near your ribcage. You hold your breath for a second, feeling the rhythmic movements, before the kicking recedes. You lovingly place your hand on your stomach, feeling the gentle flutter within. "Are you okay? Is anything hurting? Do I need to get Fish?" Will's voice is filled with genuine concern.
You let out a joyful laugh. "No, no, don't worry, it's all right. Don't bother Frankie; he seems very focused on his task at hand." With a playful gesture, you wave your hand in Frankie's direction, where he's holding a not-so-little Ella just above the water, teaching her the proper way to kick her small pudgy legs to stay afloat. Despite being just over 3 years old, Ella is more interested in gleefully splashing her papa with water kicks than learning any of the supposed swimming techniques. Frankie, however, looks absolutely delighted, and after a particularly vigorous splash to his face, he playfully plunges Ella with him underwater. When they resurface, Ella is screeching with excitement, her tiny fists reaching out to grab her father.
Both you and Will can't help but laugh at the adorable display, shaking your heads with fondness. You return your attention to your growing bump and softly caress it. "When I was pregnant with Ella, she was the calmest little baby around. It all changed when she was born; then she turned into a little tornado," you reminisce, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I hope that since this little one enjoys using my bladder as his personal trampoline and keeps me up until the early hours of the morning, it means he'll be a little ray of sunshine after he is born."
You feel another kick, causing you to huff in response. Your eyes shift to Will, who looks amazed by your side, and you can't help but smile. "You want to feel it?" you ask, noticing Will's uncertainty and the hesitation in his eyes. "Come on, I'm sure he's excited to meet his uncle." Seeing him struggle a bit more, you take matters into your own hands, guiding one of Will's hands decisively to your round, 6-month bump.
You both wait with bated breath, but it's not long before your little karate champion makes himself known. "Woah, that's insane! Does it hurt a lot?" "It's uncomfortable, but nothing that I can't handle." Honestly, you love how rambunctious your little baby boy is. Since you started feeling him, some of your best memories were you sitting on the couch with Frankie's hand sprawled over your taut stomach and Ella sitting in your lap, talking to her soon-to-be baby brother.
"It's been great, magical really. Couldn't ask for anything better." You gulp the last of your sparkling water and suck another lemon slice into your mouth while Will shakes his head affectionately. "I am glad to hear it. We were all a bit worried when you two announced this new baby. I guess we were a bit scared Frankie was going to fall back into... old destructive habits. But I guess we were worried for nothing." Will gulps from his beer, while you munch on your slice of sour heaven.
"I was worried too, don't get me wrong," you admit, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. "Those first few weeks, I was so afraid Will. Couldn’t keep my eyes from Frankie, I hovered like one of his helicopters, like I already condemned him you know. God, I could barely sleep. But now, looking back, I realize that we were all worried for nothing."
You pause for a moment, a sense of pride evident in your words. "It's going to be three years in two months, you know. Three years of sobriety." A spark of excitement lights up your eyes as you share your plans. "I'm planning a pretty big party to celebrate, so you and Ben better clear your schedules for late May," you say playfully, wagging your finger in front of Will's face, reminiscent of a mom giving orders to her child. Will responds with a smile, placing his hand over his heart in a salute stance. "Roger that," he affirms seriously.
You smile, relishing in the tranquillity of the moment, before feeling a pair of wet arms envelop you from behind. An equally wet torso presses against your back, and you can't help but let out a playful screech as you try to wiggle your way out of the tight embrace. Your legs flail in the air as Frankie's nose nuzzles against your neck, eliciting a tickling sensation, and his hands dance across your side. You laugh so hard that tears fall down your eyes, while Will is laughing even harder at your predicament.
"Stop it, Frankie! You're getting me all wet!" You can feel Frankie's smile turn devious against your neck as he hikes up toward your ears and whispers low enough so that Will wouldn't hear. "That's not what you were saying last night when I was getting you wet. You were a bit louder, screaming my name for 'More, more, Frankie!'" He finishes his sentence in a shrill tone, a poor imitation of your voice. You swat him, feeling heat rushing to your body.
Will looks at both of you with a knowing smile before teasing you more. "You look overheated. Maybe you should lie down for a bit." "Shut up, Miller," you grumble. "I can't believe you two are ganging up on me!" you exclaim dramatically.
"Sorry, mi cielo," Frankie begins, attempting to untangle his arms from your side, but you swiftly grab hold of him, keeping his arms right where they were. "Don't you dare, Morales," you assert, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Frankie responds with an affectionate eye roll, nudging your side in response. "Let me tell you, Will, pregnancy makes them hard to follow," he remarks, attempting to defend himself. You let out a displeased huff, not fully convinced. "Don't talk as if all women are a monolith," you retort.
"Sorry, you are right, mi cielo," Frankie says reverently, acknowledging your point. However, a mischievous glimmer dances in his eyes as he turns to face Will. "Pregnancy makes this one hard to follow," he playfully adds, eliciting laughter from all three of you. You let your head fall back onto Frankie's firm torso, playfully nipping at his jaw. "You shouldn't be mean to me. You know it's your baby who's been using me as his private target practice," you retort with a hint of mock indignation.
Frankie's expression softens as he leans in to kiss the top of your head. "You are right. Will my beautiful pregnant wife forgive me?" You respond with an exaggerated haughty tone, pretending to consider his plea. "Maybe, what do I get if I grant you leniency?"
"We could stop by Sonic after the BBQ, grab..." "Milkshake and Sour Patch Kids?!" You screech. "Forgiven, completely forgiven!" You exclaim excitedly. You hear Will laugh in front of you. "You two are a sight to see, making me believe in love and all that jazz." "What can I say? You won’t find a woman like my beautiful wife on every street corner. I gotta make sure that she is as happy as possible. Can't lose her, so if that means that everything in the house tastes like lemon or acid mouthwash, then so be it."
"Where is our little tornado?" you crane your neck trying to check your surrounding as you realize that Frankie came to see you alone. Frankie points back to the pool where she is getting thrown around by an overexcited Benny. It was a hard process to get Benny and Frankie's relationship back to what it used to be. Both men bruised, Frankie believing that Benny wanted to replace him in your and Ella's life, and Benny angry that Frankie would think so low of him.
It was only after you and Will had conspired to lock them in the Miller's basement for an entire day that things had begun to repair themselves. When you had come back with Will and opened the door, you had seen the two men sitting down, their backs against the hard concrete walls, and a bunch of beers littering the unfinished floor. You had scrunched up your nose, put your hands on your hips, and spoke in the same tone you used when Ella was misbehaving. "Are you two ready to get along, or do we need to lock you in overnight?" Will had stood behind you like a bouncer, ready to throw hands if necessary.
But in the end, both men had simply laughed and, clearly drunk, had held onto each other as they scrambled to their feet. The sight would have been rather pathetic if it wasn't for the laughter the two men were sharing. They assured you that they were the best of friends again before launching into a long-winded explanation, cutting each other off with "You know I would die for you, Ben" and "Nothing compares to you, Fish. You are the best man ever." All in all, it was a good result, one that you and Will were satisfied with. You had let the two men leave after getting them to promise that they would start getting along again, which led to another rant on promises, brotherhood, and love. So yeah, satisfied.
Now it was as if all those awkward months between the two men had never existed, and their bond was stronger than ever. Frankie didn't feel insecure that Benny was Ella's favourite uncle (although that changed every day and highly depended on who brought the biggest gift or the sweetest treat—today it was Benny with the new rendition of "Mermaid Barbie"). And Benny was just happy to be a part of your extended family of six.
Frankie tenderly strokes your belly, his touch filled with love and gratitude, before locking eyes with you. In that silent exchange, you offer him an encouraging nudge with your shoulder, urging him to speak his mind. Frankie coughs, trying to mask his nervousness, before finally gathering his words. "Actually, Will, there's something we wanted to ask you," he begins. Will nods, signalling for Frankie to continue. "You know how challenging these past couple of years have been, overcoming my struggles with drugs and everything. But through it all, you've been there for me. You've helped me immensely with the court case, my sobriety, and supporting the girls. I feel incredibly fortunate to have you as my brother, Will."
Touched by Frankie's words, Will's expression softens, genuine gratitude shining in his eyes. "Fish, we're family. I'd move mountains to help you, and your work at the VA has been remarkable. The conferences you lead on addiction and recovery for veterans are making a real difference. I should be thanking you.” A tinge of embarrassment colours Frankie's cheeks, his friend's compliment catching him off guard. Ever since Frankie achieved sobriety and regained his piloting license, Will arranged for him to lead weekly conferences at the VA. Frankie would meet with a group and talk about his experience, the importance of speaking up and opening up, the importance of seeking help, and how it wasn't a failure to help yourself and be there for those you love. Frankie had flourished in this role, finding purpose and fulfillment.
"But really," Frankie continues, breaking through his momentary bashfulness, "I wouldn't be where I am today if you hadn't paved the way for me at the VA. For that, and for everything else, we want you to play a significant role in little Javi's life.”
Will frowns in incomprehension. "Well, I intended to be a part of Javi's life. You don't have to ask so formally." Will teases, while Frankie shakes his head. You come to the rescue, placing a comforting hand atop your husband's, resting on your growing belly.
“What Frankie is trying to ask, Will, is if you would consider becoming Javi's godfather." Will's eyes widen in surprise as if the notion is beyond his wildest expectations. "Me?! Godfather?! Shouldn't you be asking the Pope for something like that!?”
Frankie shakes his head, rejecting the suggestion with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't be stupid, ironhead," he retorts. "Pope’s head is big enough as it is being Ella's godfather. And I don't want to inflate his ego any further. Besides, there's no one I'd rather have as my boy's godfather than you."
You see Will soften as tears well up in his eyes. "Thank you, Fish. That means... It means the world to hear that," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to live up to what you expect of me." You can't help but let out a playful snort, knowing all too well that his formal tone is a feeble attempt to conceal the depth of his feelings. Behind that stoic facade, Will is a big softie, and right now he is on the verge of dissolving into a puddle of tears.
Will clears his throat once again, and you notice tears glistening in the tall blond man's eyes. "I... Thank you, Fish... I... I have to tell Ben!" Will scrambles to his feet and exclaims loudly, "Ben, guess who's going to be the godfather!!!" The response is a shocked "WHAT?!" as you spot Ella attempting to use Benny's head as a trampoline. A snort escapes you as you relax against your husband's chest, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. With your husband's strong presence behind you, your daughter happily playing with her uncles, and your baby boy safe and snug in your belly, you softly whisper, "I don't think it can get any better than this."
Frankie's gentle humming resonates behind you, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your growing belly. You turn your head, a quizzical expression lighting up your features as you meet his gaze. A warm smile graces Frankie's lips before he leans in to plant a soft, tender kiss on yours.
"I wouldn't know," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. "Every day I spend with you is more wonderful than the last, mi cielo. I can only imagine how tomorrow will surpass even today." His words send a rush of heat through you, a deep feeling of being cherished and adored. One you only feel with Frankie.
You shift your body, the weight of your burgeoning belly making it a slight challenge, until you face Frankie, perched securely on his strong, muscular thighs. He holds you close, ensuring you won't slip, his touch providing both comfort and desire. You love how Frankie can make you feel safe and excited at the same time in an overpowering cocktail of desire and want. You press your lips against his, murmuring against his plump ones, "You have such a way with words, Mr. Morales, and I love you deeply." Frankie's smile blooms against your mouth, his affectionate gaze locked on yours.
"I also know how insatiable you've been lately, Mrs. Morales," he playfully remarks, allowing one hand to wander downwards, firmly grasping a handful of your soft, supple ass. He kneads and squeezes the plushness, igniting a delicious tingling sensation throughout your body. You tease him in response, slowly grinding against him, making sure that no one is looking at the pair of you.
"Ah, but I don't think I'm the only insatiable one here, my love," you whisper mischievously as you feel a bulge growing in Frankie’s swimming trunk. Frankie's breath catches in his throat. "Of course, how could I be anything but insatiable when my wife is out here looking like a goddamn dream." You roll your eyes. "Please, my belly is the size of a basketball, and I'm pretty sure my ankles have disappeared with how swollen they are." Frankie starts kissing your face all over, punctuating each kiss with an endearing word: "Beautiful. My. Beautiful. Girl. Never want anyone else." You feel yourself melt against him.
"OI!" Both you and Frankie turn your heads where Benny stands in the shallow end of the pool, Ella perched on his shoulder, her little hands covering her eyes. Benny's exasperated tone fills the air. "Can you save that for the bedroom, you animals? There are children around!”
"Pendejo," Frankie whispers under his breath, while you try to wiggle out of his grip and gather yourself in a more presentable position. But Frankie holds you where you are. "It's high time you find yourself a girlfriend if you need to get your rocks off looking at my wife and me!" Frankie screams back.
Benny gets all red and huffy, and you can hear some expletives being thrown your way. "Goddamn idiots... acting like high school kids... no shame... A girlfriend?! Idiots." In response, Ella swats him hard on the head where she is still resting and screeches, "LANGUAGE! Mama, 'cle BenBen said a no-no vord!" You smile. "Indeed he did, Estrelita. Looks like Uncle BenBen needs a little punishment!" Ella erupts into laughter, thoroughly amused by the prospect, while Benny's expression betrays a mix of fear and unsureness as Ella proceeds to sway back and forth on his shoulder screaming loudly about the bad language.
"You think we should rescue him?" Frankie asks. You consider the situation before responding with a noncommittal tone, "Nah, he's a big boy, he'll be fine.”
Frankie looks pensive for a second "Do you ever regret it?" he asks, his tone laced with vulnerability.
"Regret what?" you reply, genuinely puzzled by his inquiry.
Frankie's frown deepens, and he searches for the right words to convey his thoughts. "Taking me back. Starting again. No one would have blamed you if you had chosen to leave,” Frankie, for all the work he has been doing for the past three years, for all the individual and couple therapy he has attended, still sometimes feels like a scared little boy, yearning to be good enough for those he loves.
A soft smile graces your face as you gently stroke his cheek, your touch filled with reassurance. You guide his hands to rest on your taut stomach, emphasizing the life growing within. "There is no one I would rather be with than you, my love," you say tenderly. "Nowhere I would rather be than in your arms. You are everything to me—always have been and always will be.”
As Frankie's tears flow freely, his emotions cascading over him, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, seeking your warm solace and quiet reassurance that he is enough, that he is loved. Frankie’s voice quivers as he whispers, "I love you so much, Mi Cielo. Thank you for everything you have given me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” A tender silence wraps around you both, allowing space for the weight of his words to settle between you. Frankie's murmurs against your collarbone provide comfort, his soft words acting as a balm to your souls. After a minute, Frankie's voice gently resurfaces. "The road ahead looks rather bright," he begins, his tone soft yet resolute, "and I can't wait to keep walking it with you."
Your smile widens, illuminating your face with pure joy as you savour the sweetness of Frankie's words. The road ahead does shine brightly, you think, as you tenderly place a kiss on Frankie's lips. And no matter how stormy it may become, as storms are inevitable on any journey, you are certain that you wouldn't walk it with anyone else by your side but your beloved Frankie. Like the sun and the sky, you are forever intertwined, destined to navigate the highs and lows together, casting light on each other's path.
Loving each other until the end—that's the life you've always wanted for yourself and Frankie and as you feel another kick from your baby boy and feel Frankie screeches excitedly and he start talking to baby Javi (well to your belly) in quick Spanish, praising the to be born baby. And as you spot baby Ella trying her best to run after Will and Benny while Pope eggs her on you thnk back to when she could barely crawl around. Your hands join Frankie and you feel your heart swell with love and happiness, yes this is all that you’ve ever wanted.
Loving each other until the end—that's the life you've always wanted for yourself and Frankie. As you feel another kick from your baby boy and hear Frankie's excited cheer, expressing his love and admiration, you can't help but smile. He speaks to baby Javi in Spanish, filled with warmth and anticipation, knowing that your family will soon be complete.
Across the yard, you spot Ella as she playfully chases after Uncle Will and Benny. Surrounded by the warmth of your found family, you feel a deep sense of contentment. This is everything you've ever wanted—the love between you and Frankie, the growth and happiness of your children both here and yet to be born, the bonds of friendship that only strengthen over time. Holding Frankie's hand, you know that together you will continue to build a life filled with love, support, and countless moments of joy. This is the life you've always dreamed of, and it fills your heart to the brim with love. The road ahead is bright indeed.
#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro boys#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#francisco morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales fanfic#triple frontier#frankie catfish morales#triple frontier fic#frankie morales x you#frankie morales#francisco morales x you#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales x reader#pedrohub#will miller#will ironhead miller#william miller#benny miller#santiago pope garcia#fic#fanfiction#fanfic
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Ch. 1: The Hazbin Hotel
Unknown Amount of Time After Arriving in Hell-
The chapter starts with a voiceover of The Princess of Hell, Charlie singing:
"~At the end of the rainbow, there's happiness.~" A human is falling down from the sky as a rainbow bursts upwards through the clouds.
"~And to find it, how often I've tried.~" Charlie is seen being told off by her father.
"~But, my life, is a race. Just a wild goose chase.~" Camera pans over to where a figure was pointing at, which shows hell being circled by Angels
"~And my dreams, have all been denied. Why have I always been a failure?~" A shadow of Lucifer looms over a disappointed Charlie as demonic arms and tentacles cover the screen
"~What can the reason be? I wonder if the world's to blame.~" The Earth rotates as many eyes begin to surround it.
"~I wonder if it could be me.~" The Exorcists are seen smiling deviously as they look down upon the souls they have gotten rid of. The scene turns to black as the camera focuses on the middle Exorcist's face and halo.
"~I'm always chasing rainbows. Watching clouds drifting by.~" The scene fades in on graffiti and signs that says "F**k You, Heaven", "Punishment" and "Your Days Are Numbered" can be seen throughout Hell.
"~My schemes are just like all my dreams. Ending in the sky.~" Charlie heads towards a buildings's balcony as she releases fireworks that signals the rest of Hell that the extermination has ended.
"~Some fellows look and find the sunshine.~" A handful of demons are seen checking the area to see if the coast is all clear.
"~I always look and find the rain.~" An Overlord opens the blinds to her room, revealing the display of fireworks. The camera then proceeds to show a four-eyed Overlord with Yn sat on his lap lovingly.
"~Some fellows make a winning sometime.~" At The Porn Studios, Velvette takes a selfie with Vox wheres Valentino is not amused when he sees that hes got a text from his employee.
"~I never even make a gain. Believe me.~" Two demons check to see if Franklin is still alive and proceed to head offscreen as the cannibals waiting nearby pounce onto her dead body. Rosie then crosses out Franklin's name from the sign above their business.
"~I'm always chasing rainbows.~" A demon can be seen cleaning up what's been left of the extermination as other demons begin to freely walk about in the open.
"~*in tears* & Waiting to find a little bluebird. In vain.~" Charlie looks back at the clock tower as it resets the timer for the next yearly cleanse.
-Time Skip-
A sinner has fallen into Hell and has been transformed into a demon. He falls face-first onto the road and is surprised to see that he is still "alive".
"Aaaaah! Ugh. Huh?" He checks himself.
"I'm alive! I'm alive-" He then gets run over by a taxi driven by Travis which Angel Dust walks out of, Travis snickers.
"Heh. Thanks for the fun time, hot stuff!" Angel Dust pushes his hand through his hair.
"Yeah, yeah, listen. Keep this discreet, you hear me? I can't let it get out I'm offerin' my services to randos on the street! It was a quick cash grab. Ya got it!" He makes a gesture with his fingers and snaps his fingers at him, smiling.
"Pfft! Whatever you say, slut! Muhehehehehehe!" He laughs, Angel Dust pretends to be offended.
"Ouch! Ooh! Such an insult! Let me know when you've come up with something creative to call me." He looms over Travis and points at him with all his index fingers.
"You sack of poorly packaged horse sh*t! Tell the missus I said "'hi", Shnuckums!"
"Pack a - puh.." As Travis angrily drives off, Angel looks behind him to see a vending machine for his namesake drugs. He goes for the Angel Dust and just as he gets a hold of it, a random demon runs by and steals his drugs.
"Yoink!"
"Hey!"
"Up yours, drag show!" A boulder proceeds to fall out of the sky, crushing the feathered demon alongside Angel's drugs.
"Oh my GOD!" Angel gasps. He leans in to pick up what's left of his pack of drugs with a devastated look on his face.
"MY DRUGS!" He yells.
"Damn it!" He clenches the cloth angrily and looks up. A war ship can be seen passing by, destroying its surroundings.
The camera zooms in on the war ship, revealing Sir Pentious and his henchmen inside.
"Ahahahahahahahahahahah! Those other cowardly ssssinners dare not hinder my territorial take over! A wise decision! The power of my machines are unmatched!" He proceeds to push two levers as his hood flares open.
"No other demon can compare to the likesss of I!"
Egg Boi #23: "Gee! That was pretty swell, boss!"
Egg Boi #666: "Yeah!"
Other Egg Boi: "You really showed them what for! I liked when you." His hand mimics the action of a shooting ray gun.
Other Egg Boi: "Shot them with your ray gun" He gets slapped away by Sir Pentious.
Egg Boi #23: "I wish he'd shoot me with his ray gun!" Other Egg Boi pats him as Sir Pentious' hood flares open.
"At this rate, I will seize control of the entire west side of the Pentagram by day's end! And nothing, not a single beast in this inferno of suffering will be able to take back this empire from my constrictive grasp!" An Egg Boi suddenly pops on screen and pops open a bottle of whiskey onto Sir Pentious face. Sir Pent proceeds to swat said Egg Boi aside.
Random Egg Boi: "Oh, boy!"
"Hell will be mine! And everybody will know the name of Sir Pen-"
"EDGELORD!" Sir Pentious is interrupted by a scream coming from offscreen. Sir Pentious and two Egg Bois become surprised.
"Pardon?!" He looks around angrily and eyes the two Egg Bois behind him.
"Who said that?! What did you just say to me, you fried chicken fetuses?! Speak up!"
The Two Egg Bois: "That wasn't us, Mr. Bossman." A small bomb with a print of a skull on it breaks through Sir Pent's ship. It then lands right between Sir Pentious and the two Egg Bois. The bomb proceeds to blow up, leaving red smoke behind. As the smoke clears up, the owner of the scream is revealed to be Cherri Bomb as she prepares another borab in hand.
"You lookin' for a fight, old man?!" She begins to juggle around her cherry bomb.
"Why don't you get that tinker toy bullsh*t off my turf before I.." She proceeds to throw and catch the bomb in her hands.
"...smash it?!" A large pipe falls on top of an already dead Egg Boi, crushing him as Sir Pentious and Cherri momentarily look at the carnage "...More!"
"Oh! You wanna go, missy?! Well, I'm happy to oblige! Ahahah!" Sir Pentious is then backed up by his henchmen of Egg Bois.
The logo for 666 News is shown on a black background, which is followed by the day's newscast.
"Good afternoon, I'm Katie Killjoy."
"And I'm Tom Trench! Chaos out at Pentagram City today as a turf war is raging on the west side!" An image of Sir Pentious trying to be hip, followed by a drawing of Cherri flipping the bird is shown.
"Between notable kingpin, Sir Pentious, and self-proclaimed spunky powerhouse, Cherri Bomb!"
"That's right, Tom! After the recent extermination, many areas are now up for grabs! Demons all over Hell are already duking it out to gain new territory!" A live clip of Cherri and Sir Pentious's clash is shown.
"Those two seem to be really going at it, huh?"
"Looks like they're fighting tooth and nail." She fishes out a tooth and a nail respectively from her mug of coffee.
"For that hot spot!" She proceeds to swallow said tooth and nail while Tom looks over at the live broadcast focusing on Cherri.
"And I'd sure like to nail her hot spot! Hoohoo!"
"Haha, you are a limp-d*ck jacka** Tom! Or should I say-" She pours scalding hot coffee onto his crotch, "No d*ck?" She laughs.
"Ugh... not again!" Screen shows a picture of Charlie as Tom can still be heard whimpering in pain in the background.
"Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of Hell's own head honcho who's here to discuss her brand new passion project! All that and more, after the break!" She crushes her mug in her hand and turns to Trench who's still in pain.
"Suck it up, you little bi-!" The news cast cuts off and goes on a commercial break. The camera pans out from a nearby screen, focusing on Charlie and as Vaggie fixes Charlie's bow.
"When is Yn coming?" Charlie said worriedly.
"She said she'll be a little late but you remember what to say?" Charlie inhales deeply.
"Yes! Let's do this!" She smiles determinedly.
"Just, look at me and I'll mouth it to you." Vaggie forced a smile.
"Come on, Vaggie! I know what to say! I just feel like we need to... I don't know." She grabs and throws a doughnut away, "Make things sound more exciting! Hooo! What if I si-".
"Sing a song about it?" Vaggie rolls her eyes.
"You knew I was gonna say that!" Charlie boops Vaggie on the nose.
"Because I know you. But, please don't sing!" She shakes Charlie. "This is serious! Yn may like to hear you sing but now is not the right time." Vaggie sighed.
"Well, you know, I'm better at expressing myself and my goals through a song!" Charlie smiles, standing on the table where Razzle and Dazzle happily munching on doughnuts, watching her.
"But, life isn't a musical, hon" Vaggie places her hands on her hips.
"Fine. But, I have these other ideas of what to say!" She starts bouncing a bit as she shows Vaggie a piece of paper.
"The highlighted bits are the best part!"
"Uh... A wedding plan?"
"Huh?!" Charlie grabs the paper from Vaggie and looks at it then smiles.
"Oh! This is our and Yn's future wedding plan!" Vaggie smiles and blushes while Charlie is looking at the piece of paper but then she puts it away and takes out another piece of paper.
"This is the one." Vaggie grabs the piece of paper.
"Uh, it's all highlighted. Is this a drawing..?"
"Yes! That's the happy ending, see?! Everyone smiling and happy in Heaven!" Vaggie pinches the bridge of her nose.
"I don't think it's that simple. Just please follow the talking points we went over. And-" She grabs Charlie to face her.
"Do not sing!" She warned.
"Okay, fine. I'll just have to resort to my impeccable improv skills!" She salutes Vaggie as she walks over to Katie Killjoy.
"Hi! I'm Charlie!" Charlie spoke nervously, Charlie tries to go for a handshake.
"Katie Killjoy." She blows out the smoke of her cigarette, "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie." She throws away her cigarette, "And you can put that away." Katie gestures to Charlie's hand, "I don't touch the gays.... I have standards!" Katie rolled her eyes, Vaggie heard as she clenched her fist.
"Yeah? How's uh... how's that working out for ya?" Charlie turns to look around nervously.
"Look, my time is money. So, I'll keep this short." She proceeds to poke Charlie, "You're not here because we wanted you here. You're here because Jeffrey couldn't make it for his cannibal cooking segment."
A billboard of Jeffrey's cannibalism cooking show titled "It's Dahm Good!" can be seen in the background, "You might be some royal big shot..."
She fluffs her hair, "But that doesn't mean sh*t to me. I'm too rich and too influential to give a flying f**k about what some tux-wearing demon "princess" wants to avertise." Katie crossed her arms. Tom can be seen shaking his head in disapproval as Katie boasts about her wealth and influence to Charlie.
"But, I-" Charlie gulped.
"So, don't get cute with me, honey, or I will f**king bury you!" Katie Killjoy continues to poke her chest.
"And we're live!" News Staff said. Killjoy rushes back to her desk, holding papers while cracking her neck.
"Welcome back! So, Charlotte!" Katie kept her forced smile as she looked at Charlie.
"It's... Charlie." She smiles nervously as a spotlight flashes her way.
"Whatever. Tell us about this new passion project you've been insistently pestering our news station about!" Katie tries to hold in her outburst by clenching her pen.
Charlie looks around as Vaggie motions her to go on, "Well..." Charlie clears her throat and exhales, "...as most of you know, I was born here in Hell and growing up, I always tried to see the good in everyone around me!" Charlie smiled. Killjoy spots a slug and stabs it with her pen, the slug's blood bursts all over.
"Hell is my home and-" She gets slug blood splattered across her cheek which she then wipes off, "You are my people. We... we just went through another extermination." Vaggie is seen giving Charlie two thumbs up as Killjoy quickly starts to lose interest.
"We lost so many souls, and it breaks my heart to see my people being slaughtered every year. No one is even given a chance!" She slams fist on table, waking Killjoy up. Charlie walks up from Killjoy's desk.
"I can't stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such violence! So, I've been thinking: Isn't there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell?" She walks around the audience.
"Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through... redemption?" She throws her arm around one of the News Cast's staff members.
"Well, I think yes! So, that's what this project aims to achieve!" She returns to Killjoy's desk.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!" Her broadcast is being shown at The Radio Shack, which many other demons are also watching by the streets and everywhere else in Hell. Charlie starts to lose her confidence.
"Y'know? 'Cause hotels are for people passin' through. temporarily.." She gulped.
"Ahahaha! IS this girl for real?! She thinks." The lizard demon tries to hold in his laughter, "You hear what she thinks?! She thi. HAHA! Ah, she's nuts." He walks out of The Kaiju Klub with his friends.
"I think it'll serve a purpose... a place to work toward redemption.. yay..!" Charlie seemed more worried. The scene cuts back to the demons watching her broadcast from The Radio Shack. A mysterious figure walks up to see her broadcast alongside a bunch of other demons watching such as Crymini and a handful of others.
"Stupid b*tch." Vaggie punches the cameraman square in the face Charlie looks around, saddened.
"Look, every single one of you has something good, deep down inside. I know you do! Maybe I'm not getting through to you." Razzle and Dazzle are then alerted that Charlie's about to sing and that she may need their back-up vocals. Vaggie facepalms.
"Oh no... Yn please come soon..." Charlie snaps her fingers as the room turns dark and a spotlight is shown over a piano that Charlie, Razzle and Dazzle start performing on. Meanwhile, back at The Radio Shack, Alastor and his shadow can be seen tilting their heads curiously as their smiles widen.
-Plays Song-
Charlie ends the song, rather exhausted as everyone in the news station looks at her with disgust and disbelief.
"Wow! ...That was sh*t!" Top hat demon declared.
Everyone in the audience including Killjoy and Trench begin to laugh at Charlie. Charlie looks crushed and devastated and slumps back down to her seat.
Outside the building the Magne limousine stops right at the front, the back door opens and Yn steps out of the car with small black and purple marks all over her neck, Yn touches the marks.
"I think Zestial and Carmilla did this on purpose." Yn looks up at the building and growls.
There was a boo section in the news and the demons look uninterested.
"Booooo!" The demon called out, Blue Flame Demon looked deadpan.
"What in the Nine Circles makes you think a single denizen of Hell would give two sh*ts about becoming a better person?! You have no proof that this little experiment even works! You want people to be good?! Just... because?!" Katie continues to laugh.
"Well, we have a patron already, who believes in our cause and he's shown incredible progress!" Charlie smiles brightly.
Katie Killjoy feigns shock, "Oh? And who might that be?" She smirks.
Charlie tries to look smug and confident, "Oh, just someone named... Angel Dust!" She smirked.
"The porn star?" Tom snickered.
Katie Killjoy turns to him menacingly, "You fucking would, Tom!" She turns back to Charlie, "In any case, that's not even an accomplishment. I'm sure you could get that hooker to do anything with enough booger sugar and lube." Katie motions doing a handjob.
"Oh, I beg to differ!" Charlie clenched her fist and begins to count on her fingers., "He's been behaved, clean, and out of trouble for two weeks now."
News Staff spoke offscreen, "Breaking News!" Killjoy shoves Charlie off her desk.
"We are receiving word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war! Let's go to the live feed.." Katie smiled her usual smile.
The live feed shows Angel Dust stepping on an Egg Boi and throwing a grenade over at Sir Pentious with visible laughter in the background as Charlie stares at the screen in defeat.
"Oh...sh*t.." Charlie gulped.
Angel Dust was in the background, "I'm a bad person!" He yelled.
"'Oh, sh*t' indeed! It looks like the one who just joined the battle is none other than porn actor, Angel Dust!" She turns to Charlie as she shakes her fist.
"What a juicy coincidence! You must feel really stupid, right now." Killjoy and Trench proceed to laugh at Charlie.
Killjoy and Trench do Jazz hands, "Ratings!" They laughed.
"Don't look at this!" Charlie stares at the live feed in distress and attempts to block it from the audience's view.
"Well, it sure looks like your little project is dead on arrival..." Katie looms over Charlie, "Tell us, how does it feel to be a total failure?" Katie smiled evilly. Everyone in the room starts bursting into laughter.
Charlie tries to think of a comeback, "Yeah, well..." She looks around, "How does it feel that I got your pen, huh?!" She grabs Killjoy's ballpen, "...B*tch!" Charlie smiled.
Everybody instantly stops laughing while Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench give her the death stare.
Charlie laughs nervously, "Ehehe..." She puts pen back down, "Oops..." She forced a worried smile.
Tom Trench runs off set. Killjoy's demonic form reveals itself as she looms over Charlie from the shadows.
Yn enters the studio, she stands in the shadows the only thing visible of her are her fc glowing eyes. Purplish red smoke transitions into Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb fighting egg bois.
-Meanwhile at Turf War-
"Heyyy, thanks for the back up, Angie!" Cherri smiled brightly.
"Hahaha!" Angel Dust laughed. Cherri Bomb fires a rocket launcher.
"You kiddin'? This is the best action I've seen in ages!" Angel Dust puts hands behind his head.
Cherri Bomb launching another cherry bomb, "Where've you been, anyway? I thought you up and died or some sh*t..." Cherri questioned.
Angel Dust lighting a bomb and handing it to her, "Oh, I wish! I've been staying at this crappy hotel on the other side of town. Some broads are lettin' me stay rent free if I play nice." Angel Dust grumbled.
They both cover their heads as the explosion sets off behind them, then grin at each other as they jump into the field.
Angel Dust continues to shoot down Egg Bois with what seems to be a drum mag M1928 Thompson, "Y'know, no fights, no pranks, no 'problematic language'... Her words, not mine.." He steps on a broken tile, launching an Egg Boi airborne and shoots him from behind as he sighs again, "These crazy b*tches are no fun! I've been clean for two weeks! I guess in't not all bad, I got to try and have fun with Yn~" Angel Dust smirked.
"Ho-ly sh*t! Really?! Yn! You got a thing for her?!" Cherri Bomb stares at him in disbelief.
"Yeah! And I've been... well, sorta clean." Angel Dust looks at the leftover smudge on his finger.
He destroys an incoming Egg Boi, "Just clean as you can get from a sh*tload of Bolivian marching powder!" Angel Dust gets chained and thrown aside by Sir Pentious, "Ohh. Harder, daddy!" He raises left eyebrow.
Sir Pentious, taking it seriously as he gasps,
"Son?!" He exclaims.
Angel lowers eyebrow as Cherri kicks Sir Pentious to the side.
Sir Pentious hood flares open, "Ger! You whores have no classss! In war, The side remembered is the side with the most ssstyle!" He adjusts his tie.
"Or the side that ain't dead!" Cherri decapitates an Egg Boi.
Angel Dust stands up and removes the chains restricting him, "Speakin' a style, is your hat like, alive or something?" Angel questioned as his phone started to ring.
'Ah Shit..' Angel grumbled.
"Oh! Well, that's none of your GOD DAMN BUSSSSINESS! Now, is it?" Sir Pentious yelled.
"Hah, would that make your hat the top and you the bottom?" Angel Dust smirked. A sign that says "Loser" can be seen in the background pointing at Sir Pentious as an Egg Boi acknowledges the roast.
Egg Boi cups his hands, "Oooooh!" They gets pebble thrown at him by Sir Pentious.
Sir Pentious seemed to be enraged, "I'm going to blow you to bitssss!" He hissed. Angel Dust eyes him up and down, trying to get his phone ringer down, "Hm, kinky!" He smirked.
"Oh, not like that!" Sir Pentious' hood flares open as a sign that says 'Pussy' can be seen pointing at him in the background, "Pervert!" He knocks over an Egg Boi.
Angel notices an egg boi with a tentacle launcher which causes him to push Cherri to the side out of fear. As Angel gets tangled up in all the tentacles. Cherri catches Angel's phone as she sees the username, 'Princess as she picks it up.
"Hello?" Cherri smiled.
<Cherri? It's Yn. is Angel there?> Cherri looked at Angel Dust and sighed, "Yeah just. give us a minute.. Kay, Sweet Cheeks?" Cherri smiled, she put hold on Yn, "So, think you're gonna get in a lotta trouble for this?" Cherri asked, handing the phone to Angel Dust.
"Eh." Angel Dust retracts his third set of arms, "What's one little brawl gonna cause?" He smiled as he got on the phone and heard a pure sweet voice of anger.
-Meanwhile at 666 News-
Charlie and Killjoy can be seen trying to duking it out on each other like it's some sort of WWE match while a fire alarm goes off in the background with Trench entering the scene, covered in fames
"WHY WON'T ANYONE HELP ME?!" Tom yelled.
-View switch-
"Glad you haven't changed!" Cherri slugs him on the arm, "You know you're my favorite guy to party with!" Cherri smiled brightly.
"You know it, sugar t*ts!" Angel Dust puts his phone away.
Cherri Bomb takes out one last bomb, "You ready to finish this?" she smirked.
Angel Dust takes out a Thompson gun, "Born ready, baby!" He smiled. Angel and Cherri pounce onto Sir Pentious and his army as they prepare to clash, Charlie and Killjoy are still at each other's throats screaming, Trench is still on fire, screaming in agony.
Suddenly chains made out of fire ties everyone but Vaggie and Charlie, everyone looks around confused while some people struggle to get free.
"I think that's enough for now." Everyone but Vaggie and Charlie freeze, they turn and see Yn walking out of the shadows.
"Yn, you're here!" Charlie smiles and jumps into Yn's arms.
"Sorry I took so long, I had trouble escaping my other partners..." Charlie chuckles a little but inside she's a little pissed.
"I think we should get out of here, don't you think so Hun?" Vaggie walks over to Yn and pats her back.
"Yeah..." Yn who carries Charlie walks out of the building with Vaggie. Yn look back one more time sending death glare to Killjoy who shivers in fear, just as the girls walk out of the room. The fire chains vanish but not before giving everyone left in the room some nasty burns.
The royal family limousine can be seen driving back to the hotel. Charlie can be seen lying on Yn's lap, her face facing her thighs her jacket is ruined after Katie Killjoy attacked her, while Vaggie sits next to her and Yn, glaring furiously at Angel Dust.
Charlie sighs and Vaggie's eye twitches and Yn just blankly stares at Angel Dust who can be seen amusing himself by playing with the car window roller repeatedly. Vaggie scrunches up her face which Angel Dust takes notice of "...What?" Angel Dust asks.
"'What?', 'WHAT?!..... What were you DOING?!" Vaggie almost rips off her hair.
Angel Dust sighs, "I owed my girl buddy a solid! Isn't that a 'redeeming quality?" He does air quotes, "Helping friends with stuff?" Angel Dust rolls his eyes as he watches his sister play on her phone.
"Not with turf wars that result in territorial genocide!" Vaggie exclaimed.
"Eh, you win some, you lose a few hundred. Ehahahahahah!" Angel Dust inhales, "It wasn't that bad, anyway..." He proceeds to play with the button of the car window roller. Vaggie throws a folded pocket knife at the window roller
"Aw, come on! I had to! My credibility was on the line! I mean, what kind of reputation would I have if people found out I was tryna go clean? It just throws out my entire persona!" He suggestively pushes up chest floof while looking at Yn, Vaggie's eye twitches even more when she sees that.
"Your credibility? What about the hotel's?!" Vaggie looked annoyed, She gestures at a defeated Charlie, "Your little stunt made us look like a fucking joke!" Vaggie combusts.
Angel Dust scoffs, "No, no, no, babe. Jokes are funny! I made you look... uh, sad!" The camera pans to Charlie, "And pathetic! Like an orphan... with no arms... or legs... Oh! With progeria!" Yn looked at Angel Dust annoyed as the camera focused back on him. "Great! Now I'm bummed thinkin' about it!" He starts looking around the limousine.
"This thing have any liquor?" Angel Dust asked as Yn started to get slowly hyper.
"Can you please just try to take this seriously?! Also don't mention liquor around Yn?!" Vaggie grumbled as Angel Dust flicks off a dust bunny.
"Fine, I'lI try Just don't get your taco in a twist, baby!" He snaps finger at her while smiling.
"Was that you trying to be sexist or racist?" Yn questioned.
Angel Dust groans, "Whatever pisses her off more. Is there seriously no liquor in here?!" Angel Dust looked around as Yn got more excited.
Vaggie returns to sit next to Yn as she crosses her arms, "I'm gonna kill 'im." Vaggie growls.
"Calm down." Yn pats the top of Vaggie's head.
"Too late, toots. Wait! Would that make me double dead? Hah, and where exactly do I go? To Double Hell? Hahahahahahahaha! Sorry, you're stuck with me, b*tch. Get used to it" He folds his arms confidently.
Vaggie looks at him angrily, as she grits her teeth, "¡Con una mierda, malparido hijo de..!' Vaggie yelled in spanish. (For f**k's sake, you bastard son of..)
"Listen, who cares if some jack-offs got hurt? Most of 'em are ugly freaks. Look around!" Angel Dust look out the limousine window, smirking, "You got a bunch a f**kin' Harlequin babies down here!" Angel Dust stated as he was laughing.
"You're one to talk.." Vaggie smiles smugly.
"Hey!" Angel Dust motions to his body, "This body is flawless! Everyone wants to summa' me..." Angel Dust pushes up chest fluff and takes out a letter, "and we've got the creepy fan letters to prove it!" Angel Dust smirked.
Takes letter from in between his chest floof and reveals it to Vaggie that features a small picture of a dirty naked old man, who ironically has a 'No Angel Dust tattoo, smothering his mouth on an Angel Dust body pillow and a message at the bottom saying 'Show me your feet!! - Bryrin, # 1 Fan /Critic'.
"Freaks..." Yn mutters under her breath.
"Grrr..." Vaggie growls.
"That was really uncool, y'know, Angel..." Charlie sits up while Yn takes off her jacket, Charlie hands Yn some grape juice as she smiled widely and drank the whole bottle, feeling less angry.
"...Uncool?! After that train-wreck, there is no way anyone is gonna wanna stay at the hotel!" Vaggie looks toward Angel Dust, "All thanks to..." Vaggie points at him, Angel Dust, "...you and your selfish bullshit!" She yelled.
"Does that mean I don't have a free room anymore?" Angel Dust asked. Vaggie motions 'What do you think? "Ah, well shucks."
Angel Dust snaps finger, "...Guess I'll stay with Yn." Angel Dust poses for her, "and have some fun time~?.."
"What do you think?" Angel Dust groans, "oh well at least you won't ever leave me out to dry!" He smirked.
"Hey, come on. We don't know if things are over yet!" Charlie said.
"Yeah, and again try to relax, Vaggie. It'll be okay!" Yn added as she puts a hand on Vaggie's left shoulder while petting Charlie's hair. Vaggie and Charlie smiles at Yn.
Arrived at the Happy Hotel-
The limousine arrives at the hotel as the hotel door opens, revealing a very old and dirty establishment.
"Ugh! Yn, could you be a dear and help me with my shoulders?" Vaggie throws herself on the couch, facing the wall.
"Sure." Vaggie lies down on the couch and Yn starts to give her a massage. Angel Dust rummages through the fridge leaning by the wall and grabbing a box of Popsicles.
"Eh, it's probably a good idea to get some actual food in this place. Y'know, to feed all the wayward souls you got in here! Ahahaha! Ahaha..! ch... ah.." He closes the fridge door as he tries to comfort Charlie but decides to back off.
Charlie exits the hotel and tries to contact her mother. Charlie sighs, "Hey, mom. I know I keep calling and you must be busy... Really busy... But, um, the interview didn't go well..."
She shrinks to her knees, "and... I don't know if I'm ever going to make a difference.." Charlie starts tearing up as she wipes it off her face.
"I don't know what I'm doing: I could really use some advice, mom. I... I think dad was right about me... Ahah, oof, eh, anyway..." She wipes her face once more.
"I'll stop talking before this gets long. Love you, bye..." Charlie walks back in and leans by the door in defeat as a sudden knock can be heard from the other side of the door, surprising Charlie. She contemplates on whether or not to open the door but decides to open it anyway. The mysterious figure watching her performance from before can be seen standing before her.
"Hel..." He gets door slammed in front of him. Charlie looks to the side for a brief moment before opening the door again
"lo!" Charlie slams door in front of her face once more before making her way to Vaggie and Yn who is still massaging Vaggie.
"Hey, Yn? Vaggie?" Charlie gulped.
"Whaaaat~?" Vaggie groan annoyed.
"Something wrong?" Yn looks at Charlie.
"The Radio Demon is at the door!" Charlie looked down nervously.
"What?!" Vaggie quickly sits up and Yn looks horrified.
"Uh... who?" Angel Dust takes out the popsicle from her mouth.
"What should I do?!" Charlie asked.
"Uh, well- Don't let him in!" Vaggie advised.
"I'm f**ked! I'm so f**ked! Whatever you do, don't let him in!" Yn suddenly vanishes from the spot as Charlie decides to disregard Yn and Vaggie's advice once more and opens the door for Alastor.
"May I speak now?" Charlie seemed confused.
"You may.." Alastor reached his hand out.
"Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart!" He pulls Charlie towards him.
"Quite a pleasure!" He lets himself in, "Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on a picture show, and I just couldn't resist! What a performance! Why, I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929! Hahahahaha.." Alastor plays with his mic staff, "..sooo many orphans..." He chuckled.
Vaggie holds a harpoon towards his chest, "Stop right there, cabrón hijo de perra (bastard son of a b*tch!) I know your game and I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone here, you pompous cheesy talk show sh*tlord!" Vaggie warned as Angel's head pops in, unamused.
Alastor uses finger to move the harpoon away, "Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here.." He turns into his full demon form, "I would've done so.." Alastor smirked.
The screen distorts as Charlie and Vaggie stare at him in fear.
Alastor snaps back to reality, "No! I'm here because I want to help!" Alastor smiled.
"Say what, now?" Charlie questioned. Alastor repeats himself, "Help! Hahaha, hello? Is this thing on?" He taps on his mic, "Testing, testing!" He smile.
Alastor's Mic opens its one eye, "Well, I heard you loud and clear!" It blinked.
"Um, you want to help? With..?" Charlie questioned slowly.
Alastor teleports behind the two with his shadow, "This ridiculous thing you're trying to do! This hotel! I want to help you run it.." Alastor smirked.
"Buuut... Why?' Charlie asked, suspicious.
"Hahaha, why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom! I've lacked inspiration for decades. My work became mundane, lacking focus..." He shoves Vaggie offscreen, "aimless! I've come to crave a new form of entertainment! Hahaha!" He laughed. Alastor suddenly stops and sniffs the air, his smile widens even more causing Vaggie and Charlie to feel unnerved.
"Excuse me." He walks over to a closer and when he opens it Yn is seen hiding inside.
"Oh sh*t..." Yn cursed.
"Hello Darling~" Alastor grabs Yn's hand, twirl and dips her while his other hand holding her waist keeping her from falling, he smashes his lips onto Yn's lips. Yn's eyes widen along with Vaggie, Charlie and Angel Dust's. Vaggie starts to shake.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" she snatches Yn away from Alastor and holds her spear towards Alastor again.
"That's not fair!" Angel Dust said pissed.
"I'm expressing my love towards her." Alastor smiled pleased and satisfied to see his Darling.
"You two know each other?!" Charlie asked surprised. Yn clears her throat while she's blushing a little.
"Yeah... In the early few weeks when I arrived at Hell, I met Alastor at a tea party, he tried to make deals with me since I was a newcomer and it didn't go like he planned..." Yn explained.
"What do you mean?" Charlie and Vaggie confused about what she mean.
"We fought and she clearly won!" Alastor replied spinning his cane.
"And ever since that day, he's been like... this." Yn points at Alastor who is holding Yn from behind. Charlie and Vaggie looks at Yn and Alastor shocked.
"And that's one of the reasons why I'm an Overlord..... and the other reason is my relationship with the... seven sins..." Alastor is the only one that hears that and his smile drops a little before it returns back to normal. Charlie looks at Yn with a raised eye brow before looking back at Alastor.
"Does getting into a fistfight with a reporter count as entertainment..?" Charlie asked.
"Hahaha! It's the purest kind, my dear: Reality! True passion! After all, the world is a stage and the stage is a world of entertainment." Alastor smiled.
"So, does this mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate a demon?" Charlie questioned.
"Hahahahaha!" Alastor shakes hands in front of her, "Of course not! That's wacky nonsense!" He shakes head back and forth, "Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! No, no, no, no. I don't think there's anything left that could save such loathsome sinners!" He looks over to Vaggie who is offended and Angel who just shrugs.
"The chance given was the life they lived before, the punishment is this!" He puts his arms out, gesturing the entirety of Hell, "There is no undoing what is done!" He smirked.
"So, then. Why do you wanna help me if you don't believe in my cause?" Charlie asked.
"Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!" Alastor said.
"It's always entertainment with you." Yn replied. Alastor winks at Yn and then he pulls Charlie close to him and twirls her, "I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure!" He forced a smile.
Charlie removes Alastor's hand from her back, "Riiiight..." Charlie sighs.
"Yes, indeedy!" He grabs Yn and Charlie by the waist and drags them offscreen, "I see big things coming your way and who better to help you than I?" He trails off.
"Uh, so... uh, what's the deal with Smiles over there?" Angel Dust asked.
"Wait, you've never heard of her before? You've been here longer than me!" Vaggie rolled her eyes, Angel Dust shrugs cluelessly.
"The Radio Demon. One of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?" Vaggie questioned.
Angel Dust shrugs a second time, "Eh, not big on politics..." Angel Dust answered.
"Ugh!" Vaggie leans in on Angel Dust as she begins her story, "Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell..." Vaggie started.
"...seemingly overnight." Scene changes to a visual presentation of Vaggie's story regarding Alastor.
"He began to topple Overlords who have been dominant for centuries. That kind of raw power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his carnage all throughout Hell just so everyone could witness his ability. Sinners started calling him "The Radio Demon" (as lazy as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world's most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing's for sure. He's an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can't rish getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!" Vaggie finished her story with a sigh.
"Ya done?" Angel Dust Laughs dryly, "He looks like a strawberry pimp..." He stated.
"Well, I don't trust him!" Vaggie crossed her
arms."
"To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?" Angel Dust asked, Vaggie walks over to Charlie and grabs her by her shoulder.
"Charlie, listen to me. You can't believe this creep! He isn't just a happy face! He's a deal-maker! Pure evil! He can't be redeemed! ..And is most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we're trying to do! We already have Yn who is a powerful Overlord, we don't need him!" Vaggie stated.
"I know we have Yn, Vaggie. Look, I know Alastor is bad, and I know he probably doesn't wanna change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance!" Alastor inspects a portrait of the royal family.
"To have faith things will be better! How can I turn someone away? I can't. It goes against everything I'm trying to do. Everything I believe in." She puts hands on Vaggie's shoulders.
"Just... trust me. I can take care of myself, plus like you said, we have Yn!" Charlie smiles.
"Charlie, whatever you do, do not make a deal with him!" Vaggie rolled her eyes, Alastor makes a gesture with her hand, seemingly focusing on Vaggie.
"Don't worry, I picked up one thing from my dad!" Charlie imitating her dad's voice, "...You don't take sh*t from other demons!" She walks off to where Alastor is causing Vaggie to groan, Yn walks over to her and places her hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry Vaggie, Alastor won't do anything as longs as I'm here." Vaggie smiles and leans her head agains Yn.
"Okay, so, Al. You're sketchy as f**k and you clearly see what I'm trying to do here as a joke." She sighs. As Charlie turns away, glowing red symbols start to appear beside Alastor which quickly disappear after Charlie turns back to Alastor.
"But, I don't. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I'm taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no..." Charlie makes gestures with hands, "...tricks or voodoo strings attached." Charlie crossed her arms.
"So, it's a deal, then?" As Alastor rolls his eyes at that last statement. He twirls his mic staff and presents his hand for a handshake as green energy bursts throughout the hotel.
Charlie refused his handshake, "Nope! No shaking! No deals! I... hmm... As princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I, uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel. For as long as you desire." Charlie smiled.
A howling wolf can be heard in the background as Charlie looks over to Yn and Vaggie for approval, Vaggie looks away while Yn gives her a thumbs up.
"Sound fair?" Charlie asked.
Alastor rubs his chin, "Hmm..." He retracts his mic staff, "Fair enough!" He smiled.
"Cool beans." Charlie sighs in relief.
"Hmm hm hmm hmm.." He continues to hum while looking around as He stops in front of Vaggie, "Smile, my dear!" He tickles the underside of Vaggie's chin who shakes in anger and glares at him, "You know you're never fully dressed without one!" He walks away as he continues humming.
"So where is your hotel staff?" Alastor questioned.
"Uh, well-" Charlie looks at Yn and Vaggie who's staring at Alice dead in the eyes.
"Though my dear Yn is good... you're going to need more than that." He walks towards Angel Dust.
"And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?" He asked.
"I can suck your d*ck!" Angel Dust answered.
Mic feedback can be heard in the background as Alastor tries to process what he was just offered.
"HAH! No..." Alastor said with a straight smile.
Angel Dust scoffs, "Your loss." He looked away.
"Well, this just won't do!" She takes out her mic staff, "I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up." At the snap of her finger, a new fireplace has replaced the hotel's worn down one as she approaches it and picks up the mysterious figure covered in soot, which then opens its eye and stares at the trio behind her. Niffty poofs off the soot from her body.
"This little darling is Niffty!" Niffty drops to the floor, unaffected, "Hi, I'm Niffty! It's nice to meet you! It's been a while since I've made new friends!" She eyes the four, "Why're you all women?" Niffty lifts Charlie with no effort causing Vaggie to point her spear at her, "Are there any men here?!" She puts Charlie down, "I'm sorry, that's rude." She looks around the hotel when she sees Yn. Niffty's eye widens and her smile widens.
"Crimson Queen!" She bolts towards Yn and smashes into her sending them both flying into a wall. Everyone else looks at them shocked.
"Hey!" Vaggie and Charlie rush to Yn and rips Niffty who is clinging onto Yn off of her. Alastor helps Yn stand up as Yn dusts her clothes.
"Well isn't she full of energy." Yn chuckles at Niffty behavior.
"Forgive me my dear, Niffty is a big fan of yours since she's heard stories of you from me." Alastor said.
"No worries." Yn replied.
"Oooh, man! This place is filthy! It really needs a lady's touch!" Niffty grabs a spider and crushes it, "Which is weird because you're all ladies, no offense." She stares offscreen as she takes out a feather duster, "Oh, my gosh! This is awful!" She quickly cleans throughout the hotel, "Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope!" She spots a cockroach and stabs it with a sewing pin, "Nope!" She gags.
The four stare at Niffty as a voice coming from an unknown cat demon can be heard nearby.
Husk lays his cards down the table, "Hah! Read 'em and weep, boys! Full Ho..." The demonic illusions and voices distort the surroundings temporarily, "..tel? What the fuck is this?" He looks around and spots Alastor, eliciting an angry purr as he points at him, "You!" He growls.
"Ah, Husker, my good friend! Glad you could make it!" Alastor smiled brightly.
"Don't you 'Husker' me, you son of a bitch! I was about to win the whole damn pot!" Husk grumbled and the jackpot disappeared into nothingness.
"Good to see you too!" Alastor smirked. Husk facepalms angrily, "What the hell do you want with me this time..?" Husk asked.
"My friend, I am doing some charity work so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services! I hope that's okay!" Alastor leaned on something, a wall.
"Are you shittin' me?!" Husk questioned.
"Hmm... No, I don't think so!" Alastor smirked, leaning on Husk.
Husk shoves Alastor off, "You thought it'd be some kind of big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere?!" The camera pans to Alastor dusting himself off, "You think I'm some kind of fucking clown?!" Husk crossed his arms.
Alastor grins as if he's about to laugh, "Maybe!" He laughed.
"I ain't doing no fucking charity job." Husk tried to walk off.
Alastor teleports behind him through his shadow, "Well, I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment!" He gestures towards the bar he made out of his magic, "With your charming smile.." Alastor pulls Husks's lips into a forced smile, "...and welcoming energy, this job was made for you! Don't worry my friend..." He walks over to the bar, revealing the soles of his shoes to have deer prints, "I can make this more welcoming! If you wish...." Alastor makes a bottle of 'Cheap Booze' appear out of nowhere, which grabs two demon's attention.
"Oh Hell Yes!" Angel Dust and Yn smiled.
"Oh Fuck No..." Vaggie groaned.
"Uh.. We don't like to have...booze here.."Charlie seemed worried.
Husk stares at the booze for a second, "What? You think you can buy me with a wink." He winks sarcastically, "and some cheap booze?!" Husk grabs the booze and looks at it, "...Well, you can!" Almost downs the booze until Yn steals it.
"Hey, hey! Hey, hey, hey! No! No bar, no alcohol!" She snatched the booze and poured it out, "This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of mouth..brothel.. man cave!" Vaggie sighed.
Angel Dust launches himself at Vaggie from somewhere off screen, "SHUT UP! SHUT! UP! We.." He points to the bar with all his fingers, "are keeping this!" He gestured to Husk.
Angel Dust starts flirting with Husk, "Hey.." He flirted.
"Go f**k yourself..." Husk rolled his eyes. Angel Dust holds Husk's face, "Only if you watch me!" He smirked.
Angel Dust was shove out of the way by Yn.
"You like booze?!" Yn smiled widely.
"Oh Hell Yeah I do..." Husk smirked, looking Yn up and down, "You look pretty tonight..." He flirted.
"Oh, my gosh! Welcome to The Happy Hotel! You are going to love it here!" Charlie swizzle next to Yn tries to go for a handshake.
Husk reaches for his booze, "I lost the ability to love years ago.." He continues to down his booze as Yn seemed excited. Husk felt his heart beat a bit, 'Sh*t...' He handed Yn the booze as Yn drank some.
"So, whaddaya think?" Alastor smirked. "This is amazing!" Charlie rubs her cheeks excitedly.
Vaggie with crossed arms, "It's... okay..." She tried to get the booze away from Yn but she was running away, with Husk cheering for his new drunky buddy.
"I think it's quite nice." Yn added finishing her drink as she walk next to Charlie.
Alastor reels the three towards him, "Hahaha! This is going to be very entertaining!" He smiled.
He then lets go of Vaggie and summons a fireball, launching it to the hotel ceiling just so he could distract Charlie and Yn fast enough for him to shove Vaggie offscreen. He dresses himself in a tux and matching top hat. Just for fun, dresses Yn and Charlie in beautiful dresses as he puts Angel Dust in whatever he likes and finally Husk and Niffty in their respective outfits.
"~You have a dream!~" He twirls Yn and Charlie while she dresses them up
"~You wish to tell!~" She turns to Vaggie who's now on the floor glaring at Alastor with her face completely red.
"~And it's just laughable.~" He turns back to Yn and tosses him mid-air.
"~But, hey, kid, what the hell?~" The background behind Yn changes to neon colored lights featuring two apples and a skull. Alastor catches Yn by the hand as they both tap dance together.
"~'Cause you're one-of-a-kind! A charming demon belle!~" The two slide down the railing of the stairs.
"~Now, let's give these burning fools a place to dwell!~" She dresses up the rest of the hotel staff.
"~Take it, boys!~" Shadow demons appear from the floorboards and begin playing their instruments as Vaggie tries to talk to Charlie who is having too much fun. Alastor pulls her in with him and the others as Alastor's shadow demons surround them.
"Boo!" The shadow demons are scary.
"~Haha! Inside of every demon is a lost cause!~" Alastor puts a fedora on Angel's head as he snaps his fingers back at Alastor.
"~But we'll dress'em up for nore, with just a smile!~" Alastor summons a scarf and a hat on Vaggie and then she slaps Vaggie's ass causing her to grit her teeth and throw her hat onto the floor. Yn chuckles dryly causing Vaggie to look at him clearly annoyed.
Shadow Demons: "~With a smile!~"
"~And we'll chlorinate this cesspool with some old redemption flair!~" Alastor kicks off the skull which Niffty rushes in and cleans off.
"~And show these simpletons some proper class and style!~" Alastor summons a shadow clone of himself.
Shadow Demons: "~Class and style!~" Alastor snaps away his shadow.
"~Oh! Here below the ground,~" Alastor pinches Yn and Charlie's cheeks, "~I'm sure your plan is sound!~" Alastor holds hands with Charlie as they both twirl.
"~They'll spend a little time down at this Hazbin Ho...~" The hotel door explodes, knocking Niffty offscreen as Yn, Charlie, Alastor, Angel Dust, and Vaggie look outside. Sir Pentious' warship has made an appearance outside the hotel.
"Hah! Well, well, well. Look who it is harboring the striped freak! We meet yet again, Alastor!" Sir Pentious hissed, Yn looks at him confused.
"Someone you know, Alastor?" Yn question.
"I'm not quite sure. Do I know you?" Alastor asked.
Sir Pentious ego deflates, "Oh, yes you do!"
His hood flares open, "And this time, I have the element of.." He pulls a lever, "SURPRISE! Ahaha! I'm so evil!" He laughed.
With a snap of a finger, an otherworldly dimensional portal opens with tentacles and shadow demons emerging from it, destroying Sir Pentious' ship while he is inside. Alastor can then be seen finishing it off as he clenches his fist with a few drops of blood dripping off his hand. Alastor is then shown grinning menacingly in satisfaction for a moment as everyone else but Yn looks at him in shock and horror.
Alastor breaks the tension, "...Well, I'm starved! Who wants some Jambalaya? My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for Jambalaya. In fact, it nearly killed her! Hahaha!" Charlie smiles at Vaggie in place. Vaggie smile at her but when she turns around Vaggie's smile drops, "You could say the kick was right out of Hell! Ohoho, I'm on a roll! Yes, sir! This is the start of some real changes down here! Darling, do you want some Jambalaya! I'll even give ya' booze! The game is set! Now..." He smirked as he walked off with Yn. Alastor uses her magic to change the sign atop the hotel from "Happy Hotel" to "Hazbin Hotel", "Stay tuned. Hahaha..."
Previous Page: Ch. Pilot: Welcome to Hell
Next Chapter: Ch. 2: Immediate Murder Professionals
Beginning: Front Cover
#SoundCloud#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#reverse harem#axel gear#arackniss#alastor#adam#angel dust#andrealphus#Yn the crimson queen#belpegor#blitzo#barbie#beelzebub#charlie morningstar#cherri bomb#carmilla carmine#fizzarolli#glitz and glam#husker#moxxie and millie#monty python#lucifer morningstar#lilith#loona#nifty#octavia#rosie#stolas
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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @josephseedismyfather and @simplegenius042 ❤️
This week we're diving in some Leslie and Cal shenanigans, and then stopping by for a visit at the Ryes. ❤️
"So, I see your morning has been going well.", Leslie noted with amusement the second the door of the bar closed behind them.
Calahan snorted a laugh as he picked up Zorro and headed towards his truck, "If you count having the woman you like almost walking in on you when you're about to be butt naked…", he shook his head at his companion's raised eyebrow, "What?"
Leslie came to a stop by the passenger side door and popped it open for him, "Not a problem I've faced before."
"No?"
"Were you like… trying to seduce her?", the words left him slowly, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to ask the question.
Calahan shot him a wink as he placed Zorro in the seat, "What do you think?"
"Probably not… and that it won't even work with her."
Tell me about it, chief.
"Yeah."
The simple but very true statement bounced around his mind as he climbed behind the wheel and tugged at the seat belt with more force than necessary. The pent-up frustration was beginning to get to him, especially when he couldn't imagine taking to bed anyone but her.
You're messing with my head, Angel. It's not good.
Zorro eyed him as if sensing his souring mood, and Calahan couldn't help but crack a smile, "Feeling like visiting uncle Nick, my boy?"
The slam of the car door cut him off and he watched Leslie settle in the backseat before he muttered, "Sorry."
"What for, chief?"
"For what I said about Mary May…"
Hartley waved him off, turning the key in the ignition, "It was the truth."
"I think she likes you."
Two pair of blue eyes met in the rearview mirror as Calahan backed away from the Spread Eagle's parking spot, "Yeah?"
"She certainly looks at you the way I wished Rina would look at me someday."
His confession wasn't all too shocking after how he had spoken about Sabrina the night before with the alcohol loosening his tongue and letting the hurt slip out a little.
He must have seen something in Hartley's eyes because he rushed to add, "I'm over that."
"Even if you ain't… I'm not judging."
Leslie cleared his throat as he shifted his gaze out of his window, "Where are we headed? You said Nick…"
"Nick Rye. I have to drop him off some spare parts for his truck since Gus and the boys fled the Garage. Plus, it's always good to check on him and Kim. John has them on his list."
Calahan felt the sigh that left his new partner when they passed by a group of cultists rounding up civillians in the back of a van, "He's probably laughing at all of us from his bunker."
"He won't be for long. I promise you that.", he said and hit on the breaks sharply, the screech of the tires making the two Peggies and their hostages look up as he came to a halt behind them.
The Eden's gate truck he was driving served its purpose, winning him a couple of extra seconds where they didn't react by reaching out for their weapons, or at least that's what he blamed their inaction on.
"Get down, my boy.", was all Hartley shouted before he swung his door open and jumped out with Leslie in toll.
"Brother Jo-", one of the Peggies uttered out in confusion, not getting a chance to finish whatever he was about to say thanks to Calahan's fist connecting with his face.
Parish took down his buddy as he was reaching for his walkie to call back-up.
"Aye, Leslie, see what I mean about using you as decoy?"
"Very funny."
"It would work. You can straight up march into his bunker and they'd be none the wiser."
"Sure, past the first gate. Then I'd be dead."
Calahan rolled his eyes as he walked over to the civilians and pulled out his switchblade, "Not if we have the right outfit. Come on, Detective, doesn't your kind love going undercover?"
One by one the men and women were freed of their zip ties, muttering quiet thank yous before scrambling down the road towards Falls End.
"Stay safe, people.", he called out after their retreating forms.
Leslie released a groan and sent a hateful look at John's billboard ahead of them, "I'm not dressing as John Seed, Calahan."
Hartley looked up from the man he was meticulously tying up, "For now."
"Ever."
"We will see."
Seconds later the two Peggies were in the place of the people they were planning on kidnapping: defenceless and restrained in the back of the Eden's Gate marked van.
"What do we do with them?", Leslie asked as he slammed the doors shut and secured the lock.
"I'm gonna call in my buddy. Oakley's gonna make sure we get whatever information we can out of them. It ain't everyday we get potential alive informants."
"Think they know about Sabrina?"
Hartley raised the walkie to his mouth, "Doubtful. Come in, Moore. Over."
Silence filled the other line but it wasn't long before Oakley Moore's modulated voice broke it, "Rookie. Listenin'."
"I have a package for you, just outside Fall's End near the fucker's billboard. Two 'volunteers' for pick-up."
A haunting chuckle mixed with the static, "You know how to start my morning just right, buddy. I will be right there. Over and out."
"So… Oakley?"
Calahan smirked as he patted Zorro's head before starting the truck, "John's not the only one who can make people talk and spill out their secrets."
And Moore was damn good at it, never turning down an opportunity to unleash her anger about the Project going after her grandparents and forcing her to come back to Montana after working as a private military contractor overseas.
"Now I'm curious to meet him."
He bit back a smile at the incorrect assumption and the chaos it could emerge from it at the introduction. He could almost picture Parish's expression when he inevitably would realize the mistake he had made.
It would be priceless.
Popcorn worthy even.
Oakley would love it too.
"Can be arranged. Though, Oakley is someone we need to warn in advance if you don't want to be taken out for good when your pretty face gets mistaken for John Seed's."
"I'm starting to think I should shave."
Calahan's eyes scanned the road ahead of them, watching out for more targets, "And ruin our plan for infiltration? No."
"Your plan.", Leslie corrected him, "That you devised after getting drunk yesterday."
"Most of my plans are conconted that way, chief."
Parish pursed his lips, "From all the people you folks had to decide I look like…"
"You still ain't gonna admit you're a dead-ringer for good old Johnny?"
"Am not."
Calahan's fingers drummed on the steering wheel as he turned on the radio and "Oh, John" boomed from the speakers, filling the truck and making Leslie swear out loud.
"Oh, Leslie, bold and brave, agree to march over to Johnny's GATEEEE…", Hartley sang over the usual lyrics, meeting Zorro's dark gaze, "He looks like John, right, my boy? Even the universe agrees, Parish."
The torture with cult songs didn't proceed much further since he himself couldn't tolerate them, so he switched to his usual station, humming along the song that came on.
Leslie's head poked in between the seats as they took the turn, leading up to Nick's property, "Should I prepare myself to be punched in the face or worse upon meeting the Ryes?"
"Erm…"
"Doesn't sound good."
"Nick and John don't get along. Just stay behind me, and you should be fine."
"Should?"
Calahan shrugged, "I can't predict the future, chief."
"And Nick, he's a pilot?", Leslie asked as they went under the gate marked with a "Rye & Sons Aviation" sign.
"Yeah. Used to give tours, offer deliveries before everything went to hell. Gray even took Tiny for a visit once, she wouldn't stop talking how uncle Nick promised she'd fly with him next time."
"Fuck."
"Yeah.", Hartley cleared his throat, willing for the gut-wrenching feeling that swooped in anytime he thought of Savannah to dissipate, "Everything will be alright."
It had to be.
He couldn't imagine losing anyone else to the Project.
As he pulled into the driveway, the first thing his eyes stopped on was an all-too-familiar crude mark sprayed over the white siding of the Rye's house.
"Sinner.", Leslie read out loud, "You weren't kidding about them being on his list."
His words were a hopeless statement, and Calahan couldn't help but dread finding the house empty the next time he'd stop by.
That the Ryes would vanish like Ms. Darcy and so many others, the numbers only growing since the start of the Reaping.
"I'd be damned if he takes them, too.", he muttered darkly as he reached around to let Zorro's out first, who lasted no time to start sniffing around one of his favorite places in the Valley.
"Nicky, y'all awake?", Calahan called out as he slammed his door shut, the sound of Leslie's echoing simultaneously, "Stay behind me, chief."
"You sure they're here?", Parish asked in a low voice, "What if-"
"Nothing's out of place, Leslie. Nick would put up a fight if John's fuckers had stopped by."
He couldn't in fact imagine a not-so-friendly visit not leaving behind any traces, not with how much Nick Rye had to protect.
The two watched as the front door swung open and Calahan breathed out a sigh of relief at the confirmation his friend was alright for the time being.
Nick took a second to stare at the house's extrerior before descending down the small set of stairs, hollering back, "Rookie" and reached out a hand for Hartley to shake.
"I'd ask you to fine the bastard for defacing my property, but ain't the times different now.", he added quickly, noticing for the first time Calahan had brought along company.
"Nick. Before-"
"Holy fuck.", Nick exclaimed in surprise, his tone making Hartley reach out his hand to stop a potential assault from taking place.
Maybe I should let him shave…
"I know he looks like a certain someone. But he's far more pleasant, I promise."
"Rookie-"
"Leslie Parish,", Calahan slipped into his usual introductions, "Nick Rye. Nicky, Les is a friend of Sabrina's. A detective, nonetheless."
He could feel Parish cautiously inching closer until he was standing by his side and a hand was offered to Nick in a greeting, "Pleasure to meet you."
The man's aviators were doing too good of a job of concealing his eyes and any indication of where the encounter might go. Second ticked by before a smile spread across his face and he grasped Leslie's palm, "Well, if that ain't something I didn't think I'd see. KIM."
"What?", a faint voice carried from inside the house.
"Come and greet our guests."
"Guests?", Kim's question was accompanied by the creak of door as she peeked outside, then as she noticed the people standing in her driveway she walked over with a hand cradling her very pregnant belly.
"Hello there."
"Not John Seed."
Kim rolled her eyes at Calahan's automatic warning, "Figured that, Rookie. I'd accept the world is ending the day I see you and John in such close promixity."
"Kim Rye.", she announced when she turned to Leslie, "Hope my husband here didn't do anything drastic."
"Ah, Kim, I was on my best behavior.", Nick argued, looking at Calahan quickly, "Help me a little here, partner."
Leslie just gazed between the two in amusement, "No, m'am. Leslie, Leslie Parish, nice to meet you."
"Well, aren't you the sweetest. Come on, enough standing around out here.", her eyes darted around the yard until they stopped on Zorro, who was swatting away at a butterfly, "Glad to see you got him out."
"My boy bit off a Peggie's finger, Kimmy.", Calahan said proudly as the group climbed onto the porch.
"He truly is your kid, Rookie.", Kim replied with a smirk as Nick let out a laugh and asked, "Think our son would hate John and his men as much, baby?"
She sent him a glaring stare, "We talked about this already."
"Aye, woman, technology ain't always right."
"Nick!", Kim called out after his retreating form as he breezed into the house and disappered in the direction of their kitchen.
"Won't convince me, until baby Rye is in my arms, Kim.", he shouted back.
Calahan could tell Leslie was doing his hardest to be polite and not chuckle at the exchange as they followed closely behind Kim.
"Sit. Sit, you two.", she pointed at the kitched table as she opened the fridge, "Beers? Shit. Or is it too early? Coffee?"
Nick nodded, "I will get those, you sit down, too."
Calahan watched the two exchange a look, the type that oftentimes filled him with a sense of longing in the recent days and made him wonder if he'd ever have what they had.
Jesus.
Am I getting old?
Is it too late to ask for that beer?
Or something stronger…
"Thank you.", Leslie muttered as Nick placed a cup of coffee in front of him.
"So, a friend of Sabrina's ending up in Hope County-", he started, taking a seat next to Kim and grabbing her hand in his.
"Any news?", Kim interjected his small talk attempt, worry slipping into her gaze.
"No.", Calahan hated it was all he had to offer anytime anyone inquired about Sabrina.
Nick leaned in, like there was anyone around to overhear, "And Harker… he's positive it was her?"
"With John Seed from all people.", Kim shook her head, the same way she had when she first had heard the news, "Why would she even?"
"He said so. I showed him a picture, I needed to know for certain."
"How reliable is he on Bliss?"
"Nick."
"What? All I'm saying, is you know how potent that shit is. People have seen Bigfoot on it, for Christ's sake, Kim."
The whole time Leslie sipped his coffee without a word, his frown only growing deeper.
"Savannah was with them.", Calahan reminded them with a scowl of his own.
"He left us a note to go with his other "we're coming for you next" message, you know."
Kim sighed, "Nick."
But her appeal didn't stop him from getting up and retrieving a folded piece of paper that he passed over to Calahan.
"He really thinks by marking my house, he'd scare me into joining them. Claims he cares for the "three" of us, Rookie. Fuck, we should have left when we had the chance, Kim barely sleeps as is."
"We're not leaving. We talked about this, too."
"And have him go after our son once he's born? Parade us around like he's doing with Hudson?"
His words won another eyeroll from Kim, "Daughter."
Calahan stared at the letter, scanning over John's no doubt carefully selected words. The empty reassurances were something the Baptist loved using as a tool, how he had convinced so many to join him: by instilling fear and promising safety, when he himself was the danger.
Nick,
The Collapse I talked to you about has started. I know you want to protect YOUR FAMILY. The only way to do this is by joining OUR FAMILY. Our bunkers have everything Kim & Baby Rye will need to survive. There are dozens of expecting mothers and children here already with us.
This is my final plea to you.
Say YES.
John Seed
"Want me to send someone over as back-up, Nicky? Give you two some peace of mind."
"I can protect my family, Rookie. Would at any cost. You know that."
"I know.", Calahan nodded as he placed the letter back on the table, "But… if you need any help, just say the words."
Nick took off his sunglasses, rubbing at his eyes tiredly, "Thank you, partner."
"Did you two pick out a name yet?", Leslie broke the heavy silence that had fallen over the room, his question making Kim groan out loud while Nick beamed at the in he had unknowingly granted him.
"Oh, here we go."
"We've been making a list, actually. Agreed each would get 6 names for boy and girl."
Calahan just bit back a smile, having heard a version of Nick's name ideas already, but back then the list had been longer.
Leslie gave him a small nod, "I assume John is off the table."
"Hell yes.", Nick raised a hand, counting the names as Calahan drummed his fingers on the table for dramatic effect, "So for boy, we have Nick Jr., Nick II, Ace, Pilot, Gunner and Wingman."
Parish chuckled, "Naturally."
"I, of course, deeply feel like baby Rye would be a boy. But Kim, here, insisted I have back-ups in case it's not…"
Kim send her husband a warning look, "Were you not with me at the ultrasound appointment, Nicholas?"
"That was on a messy black and white TV screen. You know them things ain't reliable."
"We're having a daughter, Leslie. Nick is just still in denial he won't be handing off the business to a son. Breaking a little tradition they had going on."
"It's not certain yet.", Nick insisted, "And anyways… if, and that's a huge if, baby Rye turns out to be a girl, I narrowed the names to Nicole, Nicola, Nikita, Nikki, Nicky and Nicoletta."
"Cute.", Calahan noted, knowing no matter what name or gender baby Rye had, they would be loved unmeasurably.
"Don't encourage him, Rookie, please."
"Who do you think helped me with my first list, Kim?"
Kim patted his hand, aiming to change the subject away from the name picks, "Ah, Leslie, you know Sabrina was the first person to guess we will be having a girl. Took one look at my belly on her last visit and said how she couldn't wait to meet my daughter. Nicky did his best to convince her her feeling was wrong, but then we went to the ultrasound…"
Her revelation made Leslie crack a smile, "Rina's always been intuitive. Our captain hated to see her go, probably hoped if I come to visit her, she'd change her mind and return."
Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @strangefable @strafethesesinners @voidika @madparadoxum @florbelles @corvosattano @henbased @aceghosts @adelaidedrubman @jillvalentinesday @cassietrn @clicheantagonist @josephslittledeputy @g0dspeeed @poisonedtruth @purplehairsecretlair @nightbloodbix @thesingularityseries @theelderhazelnut @trench-rot @chazz-anova @euryalex and anyone with something to share ❤️
#Cal thinking his truck is puzzling them Peggies when it's Leslie's face instead...#Not him intentionally letting Les believe Oakley is a man 😂 i'm sure it won't end in disaster 😂#Calahan will be starting a petition for Les to cosplay John soon#and you bet I so had to include baby Rye's gender discourse and Nick's baby name choices 😂😂😂#tagged <3#wip wednesday#wip: in hope of tomorrow#oc: calahan hartley#oc: leslie parish#oc: oakley moore#nick rye#kim rye#fc5 ocs#fc5 deputy#far cry 5 oc#far cry 5 deputy#wip snippet#wip whenever#character dynamics#current wip#wip tag
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Chapter 3 Stupid teenagers
Stargirl chapter 3
A/N- Don’t you just love happy chapters!
Warning- Swearing, ANGST, fluff! SLOWBURN, talks of alcohol & blood, violence, long chapter.
Pairing- Steve Harrington x fem!reader, male!oc x fem!reader
Episode- 2x05-2x06
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
————
“So,” you roll out slowly as you try to break this awkward silence between Steve and you.
Maybe hanging out wasn’t such a great idea. He’s being such a grump.
“Do you have a fake ID?” You ask and glance at him hoping he’ll just loosen up.
“Yeah, obviously how else do you think I get beer? Do you?”
You nod and pull out the little plastic ID. “One just doesn’t know when you need it. I’ll show you mine if you me yours.”
Steve spares you a glance, he debates whether giving in or not for a moment before he lifts off his seat and pulls out his wallet. His eyes are back on the road but he manages to flip his wallet open with his thumb and show off the ID with the fake birthday.
“Ah,” you grin. “So your hair has always been great. Is that how you whoa the cashiers selling you alcohol.”
Steve looks a bit in disbelief to how bold you are, but he doesn’t find it awkward, he plays along. “I was just born this way. A blessing.”
You snort and he looks at you with amusement while his smile slowly spreads.
“I’m surprised you have one, and that you can come out given it’s dark out,” he mentions.
“Eh,” you shrug. “My dad and I agreed 12:30 was my curfew, he doesn’t really care though. He’s just trying to sound authoritative, he’s chill about it. It’s my grandma that was the strict one,” you laugh softly and imitate her accent. “You can’t talk to boys until you’re out of college, you can’t wear such revealing clothes, don’t speak English at home.” You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing could get past her, but now I can do what I want.”
“That’s nice,” he mumbles. “At least she worried about you.”
You huff out. “Yeah, it seems that way now, not before. You, do you have a curfew? What time should I bring you back home?”
Steve scoffs softly. “I don’t have one. But hey, if we’re going to this club how do you know about it?”
You smirk now. “Eddie, my friend from last night. He said that it’s like a disco, that they do themes too! It sounded cool, but I had no one to come with. Until now. We can drink, dance, forget about shit, be stupid teenagers.”
Steve’s smile fades and he nods slowly in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He said with grief.
You want friends. Let’s make friends.
“Is everything okay?” You probe.
Steve exhales deeply and gently taps the steering wheel. “Yeah,” he nods and lies, it’s obvious; No eye contact, soft voice, deep breath.
But you aren’t close enough to press him so you let it go and try to assure him as best as you can. “Well It’s like my daddy says, nothing can solve a agonizing heart like—”
“Alcohol?” Steve cuts you off with a sly smirk.
“No,” you chuckle. “Music! And dancing.” You clap and shift around to face him. “Tonight we’re going to be…” you trail off and look at fake name on his fake ID. “Steven Harrel? Really?” You put his wallet down and look at him with a judgmental gaze. “There’s so many names you could have used man!” You begin to tease him. “Edward, Jo, Bob! But no, your name is Steven! You’d make a terrible spy.”
A small laugh gets past his lips. “Yeah, it was at the moment thing. I couldn’t come up with anything else, how about you then judgy?”
You grin and show off your id again. “Rio. Rio Mendes. Steven and Rio coming at you tonight.” You wink.
Steve this time bursts out laughing and shakes his head. “You are truly something else.”
You go serious. “In a good way or a bad way?”
Steve rolls into a parking spot and turns off his car before answering sincerely. “Good.” He meets your gaze and holds it for a lingering moment before he pulls away and opens the door to climb out, leaving you smiling at yourself before you climb out of the car too.
Luckily the security bought your fake ID’s and lets you inside. However, it’s when you’re inside that your illusions get shattered as you see how slow it is. It’s not completely stranded, but the dance floor isn’t full of people drunk dancing, the bar is not full and the bartenders aren’t busy.
Maybe you were expecting too much?
“What about fun?” Steve remarks and walks past you.
You sigh and look away from the dancing floor flashing in different bright colors, and then follow him to the bar. “We can make it fun.”
“Two beers—”
“No I hate beer,” you cut Steve off as he was ordering from the eager bartender. “Two shots of tequila,” you request. “It’s on me.”
“Right away.”
You shoot the bartender a smile, and Steve leans on the surface and looks at you with an impressed smile. “Really? Are you sure?”
You clasp your hands on the bar and face him. “Yes,” you nod. “I invited you, you drove me here, I owe you.”
The bartender returns with glasses and slides them to the both of you. When you grab them you push your cup to Steve. “To…being stupid teenagers,” you toast.
Steve scoffs softly and nods as he raises his cup. “To being stupid teenagers,” he repeats and then clinks his cup against yours.
You then proceed to quickly drink your alcohol, not failing to make faces as the strong liquid burns your throat. Yet it’s oddly satisfying when you’ve swallowed it all.
“So,” Steve avoids having this be awkward. “Why Hawkins?”
Is no one ever going to stop asking you that?
“Uh,” you sigh and turn to watch a group of friends dance. “My dad retired from work,” you lie. “This was his hometown so we came, settled. Albeit he’s brought all his work with him so is he really retired?” You complain.
“Yeah I understand that workaholic dad,” Steve comments, making you blink and look at him watching his empty cup. “No time for anything, not even the kid.”
Yeah, can’t relate there…
“What does your dad do?” You ask instead of trying to relate to something you don’t. You just needed to get some annoyance out some way.
Steve shrugs. “He owns businesses. What about yours?” He redirects.
“Government agent,” you avoid the entire truth.
Steve’s eyebrows raise and he hums softly. “Interesting. Like, FBI? Because that would be cool.”
You let out a breathless laugh and nod. “Yeah, something like that. He’s cool, or at least he thinks so.” You smile. “With his badge and his armory in his office closet.”
Steve gasps. “Does your dad hunt aliens?”
You giggle and shake your head. “No! Not that I don’t believe in them, but no. He does more mundane stuff.”
“I saw an alien once,” Steve comments, heightening your amusement. “Of course I was high off a bad patch.”
You laugh at him and lean in. “I hear monsters dwell in Hawkins. If you’re lucky you’ll see a real one.”
Steve bursts out laughing and reaches for his cup but it’s still empty. He puts the cup back down and shakes his head. “That would be something wouldn’t it?” He laughs softly almost as if he’s nervous.
You squint your gaze in confusion, but don’t question him, instead you ask for another round. This time after you drink your shot, the space between you isn’t filled with chatter, “Under Pressure,” by Queen plays overheard and steals every ounce of your attention.
“We have to go dance!” You exclaim and grab his hand to pull him out the dance floor, but he gently pulls his hand away.
“Nah, you go, I'm not drunk enough yet.”
You scoff. “Not drunk enough? You don’t need to be drunk, let’s go!” You begin to back pedal whilst you bop your head to the beat. “Come on, we’re Steven and Rio tonight. Stupid teenagers!” You yell as you get further and further away from him.
Steve shrugs nonchalantly with a big sigh escaping past his nose.
“We drank, we’re not carrying anything on our shoulders, let’s go dance!” As you step on the dance floor you start moving your body to the music. However, Steve remains in his seat so you have no other option but to pretend to throw a cord and reel him in.
Steve rolls his eyes, but you see his smile peeking through. “That’s stupid,” he mouths.
You shrug. “Who cares,” you rebuttal. “Come.”
Steve’s shoulders fall and he lazily slides off his chair and drags himself to the dance floor. When he begins to get closer, you step further back and let the music take control.
At first Steve starts off slow, with awkward movements that loosen up bit by bit. You keep your eyes on him as if it was possible to lose each other on a lonely floor, and that distance that stands between you begins to close as you grow more comfortable with each other, and as the song's climax rises.
Now as the colorful club lights dance on your own faces, turning you from blue to purple, to orange and yellow, nothing bothered either of you, it’s like you were truly alone just dancing to the music. You were two best friends it seemed like, lost souls finally rekindling.
There comes a moment when you’re both lost in the moment that you lean forward, you glance at each other's lips and almost dive into temptation, but there are people in each other of your minds that come up and have you both swiftly moving away from each other.
Thankfully that…weird moment doesn’t make things awkward, you continue dancing to more songs without falter. You drink one more shot and continue to dance and dance under the hot lights until you’re both worn out and tired.
Regardless, neither of you feel any pressure to return home, so you find a 24/7 mini mart and buy late night slushies. Now albeit the conversation back to the car wasn’t so lighthearted, it was serious, which you enjoy.
“I fear disappointing people,” you confess. “My dad mostly. He’s all I have in my life now….” You swallow thickly. “If I disappoint him, what then?”
“Yeah, well as someone who has disappointed their father…just push through it,” Steve tells you softly. “It’s…depressing at first, but if they don’t try getting their head out of their ass then just keep going for yourself.”
You hum softly and take in his advice before you interject. “I’m sorry he made you feel that way. No one deserves to have their parents treat them like that.
“Eh,” he shrugs. “I’m over it.”
You don’t believe him, but there’s nothing you can do to take that away from him. “So,” you continue moments later. “Your fear?” You ask and take a sip of your sweet crushed ice drink.
Steve take a moment to answer, but before he does he exhales deeply. “Doing nothing with my life. I fear…I don’t know…feeling like I’m a failure. I mean I'm not good at school, which now sucks because I'm graduating. Colleges won’t accept me. Working with my dad will turn me to a recycled copy of him, I don’t want to stay in Hawkins all my life.”
“Well,” you try to assure him the best you can. “It’s not the end of the world if you don’t go to college. My dad didn’t go to college and he became a wealthy, skilled government agent who’s traveled the world. Just get out there, follow your heart,” you laugh breathlessly. “That’s what my daddy always says.”
Steve hums and lowers his cup to look at you with a curious look. “Have you traveled the world with him?”
You nod happily. “Yep.”
Steve smiles softly at you. “What’s your favorite place?”
You draw in a long breath and shrug. “I don't know,” you breathe out. “I’ve been everywhere…uh,” you press your straw against your lip and then picture a place in mind. “Antarctic.”
“What?” Steve asks softly and full of wonder. “No way.”
You nod. “You get on a boat in Argentina and sail there. It’s cold as fucking shit, but it’s amazing, you see ice caps that have lived for millions of years, wild animals, and the best of all, the Southern lights.” You beam at your cup. “They dance down on earth, glowing pink, green and purple. My grandma says that it’s dragons having a celestial battle in the skies,” you giggle and steal a glance at Steve, noticing his smile.
“I love them regardless of what they are, it’s magical, breathtaking.” You muse.
“I believe it,” Steve interjects sweetly.
You meet his gaze and assure him again. “You won’t stay here Steve, don’t put that energy out into the universe. You’ll see what you want, live the way you want. Okay?”
Steve holds your gaze for a moment before he looks ahead and nods. “I hope so.”
You take a long sip of your drink and actually don’t hate the silence that follows. He still breaks it however, with more questions. “Can I ask about your mom? Is she…around?”
How do you avoid making this awkward?
“Uh…not around me,” you mutter and grab your straw to turn your drink around. “She’s busy traveling from place to place…she calls, she gives me money, but besides that she’s a stranger. I'm a burden to her.”
Steve scoffs and probes. “How so?”
You exhale deeply, and feel hesitance sharing now. “She’s in the entertainment business,” you mumble. “She’s an actress.”
“What?” Steve presses.
You avert your gaze and mumble again, but a bit louder. “She’s an actress.” You look at Steve and see his interest piqued.
“Do I know her?” He asks with a growing grin.
You shrug. “Maybe…have you heard of Mayra Rivers?”
Steve stops walking and meets your gaze with a serious expression. “Shut up,” he mutters. “No. She’s not.”
You scoff. “Yeah, sometimes I wish she wasn’t. But that’s her, my mom.” You continue walking to his car.
Steve runs to catch up to you and looks excited now. “She's a good actress! Great. You know what, I see the resemblance.”
You roll your eyes. “Well she might be a good actress, but not a good mom.”
Steve huffs. “Bummer. To absent parents then.” He presses his cup towards you.
You cross your arm over your chest and clink your cup against his. “To absent parents.”
“But whenever you see her, let me know, or get me a autograph,” he says.
“Whatever.” You sass.
——
*THE NEXT DAY*
“Throw it,” you urge your dad and swim away from the pier.
The water is cold, sure, but you don't mind much, you’ve stepped in colder waters. Besides, you can’t possibly wait for summer to dip in.
“Catch it this time,” he remarks and throws the piece of candy at your mouth.
Yet as you open your mouth and move to where it’s going to fall, the candy plops in the lake water and begins to sink down. “You think fishes can eat that?” You ask as you watch the candy sink further and further away.
“They might die,” your dad deadpans.
You hum with pity and glance up at him, seeing him sit back and read his work papers about this town that has more than meets the eye. So much so that your dad came home late last night, way after Steve dropped you off. And he hasn’t spoke about it either, which adds to your curiosity.
“Daddy, guess what?” You interject to try and get something out of him.
He hums as a response, letting you swim towards the pier and continue. “I found out the other day that the girl, Nancy, was friends with Barbara, the girl who disappeared.”
Your dad lowers the paper he was reading and tilts his head, letting your floating figure in the water reflect off his sunglasses. “Really?” He presses.
You hum and nod. “Yeah. What about you, have you learned more?”
Your dad sighs and hesitates for a moment before he puts his paper down on the small round table, and leans forward. “Yes actually,” he thankfully begins to say. “The other day, a lady called the police about this girl wandering around the park alone. She said that one minute she was there and the next the swing moved by itself, and then when she looked back the girl vanished.”
Your curious expression fades and worry and fear begins to bleed through.
“I tried to follow the lead to the middle school, but there was nothing. After that I went to your uncles place, stalked him a bit and found out he’s not living at the rv.”
You blink in confusion and this time you probe. “Why are you spying on uncle Jim?”
Your dad pulls his sunglasses off and begins to look enthused. “Because he’s the chief of police, he’s in charge of all the important files, he’s the one hiding things. So I followed him, he lives in my grandfather's cabin. I stalked the place, saw him and then at night a girl just about the same age as the Russian girl, walked in the house. And guess what happened later?” He smiles.
You swallow thickly and now regret asking. “What?” You mumble.
“All the windows in his house broke,” your dad shares. “I think Jim knows that Russian girl. He’s working with Hawkins Lab. We’re close, baby girl, so close,” he pinches his fingers.
So what will that mean for uncle Jim? You haven’t gotten to see him since arriving at Hawkins. Will they confront each other? Will this girl kill your dad? Someone with abilities, anomalies like her won’t go down without a fight.
“Hello?!” A third voice cuts through your rambling thoughts.
Your dad looks back, and you look up, catching Steve, and some tiny boy with a head of curly hair squished under a hat, approaching the pier very cautiously.
“Friends of yours?” Your dad directs at you.
You nod. “The tall one is, the short one must be his brother.”
“No one was answering the front door,” Steve explains as he points to your house. “The cars are in the drive away so, I thought well since it’s sort of urgent we'll check the back.”
You close the gap between the pier and you to grab the edge as they get closer.
“Hello there, I didn’t know y/n was expecting visitors,” your dad greets them with kindness. “I’m Rowan, her father.”
Steve’s eyes go wide and he glances at you with surprise. “Oh,” he mouths and walks down the wooden pier with his friend. “I’m Steve, her friend. And this is,” he pats the boy's shoulder.
“Dustin Henderson,” the boy introduces himself to both your dad and you. “Pleasure.”
You pull yourself onto the pier, catching Steve’s double take before he keeps his eyes on your father as he gets out of his chair.
“Welcome,” your dad continues to be nice and even greets them with a firm handshake. “Please help yourself to some lunch, there’s things to make sandwiches, there’s candy, chips. We were having lunch.”
“Oh,” the boy Dustin says with a growing smile. “Don’t mind if I do.” He approaches the table, and you walk into your sandals and quirk your eyebrow.
“Hi…Steve,” you greet reluctantly since this is truly a surprise visit. “What’s up?”
Said man folds his arms over his chest and shrugs. “Oh, nothing…just came to visit.” He shoots you a smile. “You.”
You point at Dustin making himself a sandwich, and then glance back at Steve with a confused gaze. “Oh, with your brother?” You ask.
Steve quickly shakes his head. “What? No, he’s not my brother. He’s…my friend.”
Oh. He’s friends with children…how weird.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Hey, don’t worry, feel yourselves at home, I’m stepping out,” your dad interjects.
Your gaze snaps to him and you quickly interrogate him. “What? Really? Where are you going?”
Your dad points back. “Work errands, I’ll see you later okay?” He pulls the dry towel from the chair, and then walks over to you to press a kiss on your forehead as he wraps the towel around your shoulders. “Take your walkie if you go out, I tuned it into the right channel. It’s on your desk.”
You slowly take the towel as you narrow your gaze. “Why?” You ask.
“Just in case,” he says and lets you go to collect all the things you used for lunch once Dustin is done using them. When he’s inside you finally address your surprise visit.
“So what’s up? Why didn’t you call?”
Steve and the boy share a quick glance, the boy shares a nod before Steve faces you and responds. “We need your help. I remember that you told me about your dads armory last night, so I came with the intention to borrow a gun or two.”
What?
You let out a nervous laugh. “Be serious.”
“I am,” Steve deadpans and drops his arms to his sides to press his hands on his hips. “We need to borrow guns.”
This isn’t helping cure your confusion whatsoever. “What for?” You demand to know.
“Can we or can we not?” Dustin blurts.
You shoot him a perplexed glare and then meet Steve’s gaze and step towards him to answer. “No. No! You can’t just borrow my dads guns. First of all you won’t tell me what for. Second of all, if something happens it’s on him. So no, I'm sorry but no.”
Steve gasps and shares a worried glance with Dustin. They share silence so you scoff in annoyance and decide to sit down on the chair and wait for their shitty excuse.
“We—” Dustin stammers.
“Shh,” you cut him off.
“Wh—”
“I don’t know you. Steve,” you slowly wave your finger around to point at him. “You tell me what’s going on. Why you came over here demanding weapons?” You cross your leg over the other and narrow your gaze.
Steve points his hand at Dustin with his mouth agape and then blinks repeatedly before he attempts to answer. “We’re going monster hunting. Dustin…found some slug thing that keeps molting, and ate his cat...”
What the hell?
“…he escaped from his shed, and we’re after it. So we need weapons to kill it.”
“Slug thing?” You quote between disbelief and fear since a part of you believes him after all you’ve heard from your dad.
“Yes!” Dustin exclaims. “It’s a monster from a different dimension called the Upside Down. It’s dangerous, we need guns or else it will start making people disappear. Again.”
The anomalies…is this all connected?
The unexplained deaths?
“These monsters,” you say in a serious tone. “Do they come from Hawkins lab by any chance?”
Both guys share a quick worried look before Steve begins to sputter.
“Yes or no?” You demand.
Steve lowers his head and scratches the back of his head. “Yes,” he mutters. “Well not anymore, but it all started there. It’s a long story we can maybe share later?”
You hum and nod slowly before you respond to their previous request without thinking. “Fine, you can get your guns, but only if I go with you and use them.”
Steve rolls his head up and meets your gaze with sass. “We can use a gun.”
You shrug. “Take it or leave it.”
Steve and Dustin share another speechless look before Steve responds. “Fine,” he grumbles. “But at your own risk. If you get hurt it’s not on me, tell your dad that.”
You begin to grin. “I will.”
This is for him after all, to help him with his mission.
“Let’s go get those guns then,” you encourage both guys.
——
*LATER*
“So help me understand, you believe it all,” the little boy keeps repeating for the third time since you left the house. “The interdimensional called The Upside Down, the Demogorgans? The girl who has telekinesis? All the batshit crazy things?”
You groan and fix your shotgun strap around your shoulder. “Look, Justin—”
“Dustin,” he corrects you.
“Yeah,” you brush him off. “It’s just like I said the last time, I’m superstitious. Besides, people here say that demons come out to play here, why wouldn’t I believe it?”
“Well, because people are oblivious to it all.”
You hum in comprehension and glance down at the meat trail that Dustin made Steve and you leave behind.
“Besides,” Steve adds. “Her dad was an old CIA agent, he hunted aliens.”
“No he didn’t,” both Dustin and you counter at the same time.
“The CIA doesnt do that,” Dustin corrects him. “Sure they can, but that’s not its main focus.”
Steve lifts his hands up in the air and mumbles. “Sorry, jeez.”
“Anyway,” you change the subject and lazily let a piece of meat go. “Are we almost there? My legs are getting tired. And the sun will be going down soon. By the way, why am I the one dropping the meat?”
“Because you wanted to risk your life and tag along,” Dustin sassily rebuttals.
You scrunch your nose in annoyance. “Yeah because I don’t trust you,” you point to Steve on your left side. “With my dads guns.”
Steve blinks in confusion. “I’m really responsible. I don’t know where this judgment is coming from. I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” you agree. “But it doesn’t mean I get to trust you with a shotgun that can kill someone. And if you lose it…my dad might just get me in trouble.”
He doesn’t really do that. He’s never even grounded you before either.
“Besides, it has serious kickback if you don’t know how to use it,” you add.
Steve looks at you offended. “But I can. I just had to have you remind me.”
“Mh-mm,” you hum. “Well I still don’t trust you with the guns, so I’ll use the gun. You use the cool nail bat.”
Steve huffs, letting silence build between the three of you again. Not like you minded because you can think about your dad and wonder what he was up to that he didn’t care to share. He just left.
He does seem close to putting all the pieces together, he’s just missing a few pieces. And also seems like you’re collecting those missing, but you can’t just tell him anything through the walkie, not yet anyway. You need more information, or if you see the Russian girl who Dustin calls Eleven, then you’ll call him. Until then you’ll stay quiet.
“All right,” Steve interjects. “So let me get this straight. You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who…who you just met?”
You smile softly at the thought of this young boy committing to such a dangerous gesture all for a girl.
“All right,” Dustin rebuttals. “That’s grossly oversimplifying things.”
“I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?” Steve asks.
“An interdimensional slug?” Dustin says. “Because its awesome.” He says as if it isn’t obvious.
“Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn’t,” Steve argues. “I…I just…I don’t know. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard.”
You furrow your eyebrows and slowly side eye Steve. “I think it’s quite cute,” you defend Dustin. “I mean dangerous, but It’s the thought that counts.”
“So you’re saying that you’d want a guy to bring you a dangerous slug monster because he thought it looked cool?” Steve questions you.
“Well,” you sigh and tilt your head to the side. “When you put it that way no, but that’s just me. It’d would be kinda weird and gross,” you scrunch your nose. “But! Everyone else is different, who knows this girl could like it.”
“But she didn’t,” Steve blurts.
You shrug. “Still,” you try to help Dustin. “Everyone has different tastes in stuff, Steve.”
“And she was one who did not like the slug. I’m just trying to help him out.”
“Well,” Dustin interjects between your conversation. “Not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?”
“It’s not about the hair man,” Steve argues. “The key with girls is just…just acting like you don’t care.”
You slowly furrow your eyebrows at the sound of the horrendous comment and slowly side eye Steve again.
“Even if you do?” Dustin asks probably soaking up all this useless advice.
“Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts,” Steve agrees, making you shake your head. Steve notices and throws a piece of meat at you. “Butt out.”
“Well,” you chuckle and walk ahead to hop on the metal railings at the side. “I'm a girl. I could help.”
“How? You haven’t even had a boyfriend yet!”
“Hey!” You exclaim over your shoulder. “That was told in confidence. And I’m getting there.” You roll your ahead again and continue to throw meat pieces down.
“Anyway, back to me,” Dustin interjects. “Then what?”
“You just wait until, uh…until you feel it.”
Your curiosity piques this time, but you don’t look back.
“Feel what?” Dustin asks.
“It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know?” Steve explains. “You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh…electricity, you know?”
Hm, you’ve felt that before with…well him, when you were dancing, when you were talking on your way back to the car…
“Oh, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere—”
“No, no, no, no, no,” Steve corrects him while you stifle your laugh. “Like a…like a sexual electricity.”
“Oh.”
“You feel that and then you make your move.”
Too bad you can’t make your move with him.
“So that’s when you kiss her?” Dustin asks very innocently.
“No, whoa, whoa,” Steve quickly cuts in. “Slow down, Romeo.”
“Sorry.”
“Sure,” Steve continues. “Some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a…I don’t know, like a lion.”
You snort.
“But others you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a…like a ninja.”
Hm, okay that one was better. Lion? Pft. Everyone knows a tiger is more aggressive.
“What type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, this time you just peer back.
“Nancy’s different. She’s different than the other girls.”
You smile down at the ground, and feel the need to want someone to talk about you like that when you’re not around.
“Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess,” Dustin says.
“Yeah. Yeah, she is.”
“But,” Dustin adds, “this girls special, too, you know. It’s just, like, something about her.”
You look ahead and grin at his innocent way of describing what he feels.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve cuts in. “Hey, hey, hey.”
“What?”
You hear their feet stop agaisnt the gravel so you just turn and slowly continue to walk back and watch them.
“You’re not falling in love with this girl, are you?” Steve presses him seriously.
Dustin hesitates before he shakes his head. “Uh, no. No.”
Aw so cute.
“Okay, good,” Steve mutters and continues walking. “Don’t.”
“I won’t.”
“She’s only gonna break your heart, and you’re too young for that shit,” Steve adds with his gaze down.
You sigh at his comment and once again begin to wonder what happened between him and Nancy that night at the party.
“Well,” you finally pitch in as they both stay quiet. “My dad said that it’s okay to get your broken once. It builds character, he says. And my grandma got her heartbroken once and never married again. Instead she became pretty cool at her old age, she lived longer and looked 50 at 60, so.” You shrug. “Won’t be the end of the world.”
“That’s pretty sad,” Steve counters and meets your gaze.
You shrug. “I wouldn’t say so, I got more attention and am trauma free.” You shoot him a smile.
Steve rests one hand on his hips and sassily points his finger with the other one. “Except you’re barely getting a social life at the ripe age of 17. I would call that trauma.”
You shrug. “Like I care. I’m rich, and have traveled the world. Have you?”
Steve parts his lips, but just huffs, making you smirk and turn around to continue facing ahead. The silence lingers but only for a little.
“Fabergé,” Steve breaks the silence.
“What?” You probe.
“It’s Farbergé Organics,” Steve continues. “Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hairs damp…it’s not wet, okay? When it’s damp…”
“Damp,” Dustin echoes.
“You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray.”
You snort and can’t help but begin to giggle.
“Farrah Fawcett spray?” Dustin teases.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “Farrah Fawcett.”
They stop again so you stop this time and wait with your back turned.
“You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass,” Steve threatens Dustin. “You’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?”
Said boy agrees, making Steve sigh and continue walking.
“My grandma used to use Farrah Fawcett spray.” You look back with a teasing smile.
Steve albeit remains nonchalant. “You did say your grandma was cool, so by default I am too.”
You quirk a brow and scoff. “Sure.”
“Farrah Fawcett, really?” Dustin query’s.
“I mean she’s hot.”
“Yeah,” Dustin agrees.
You roll your eyes and put an arm out to focus on walking on the railing. Albeit then your mind goes to your dad so you pull out the walkie as if he was contacting you. You just need to make sure it’s on the right channel and it has batteries.
When you put away again the silence hanging over the group lingers until you finally reach your destination, a used junkyard. Wow.
“Well,” you grumble in disgust as you place your hands on your hips. “Isn’t this a piece of junk.” You huff. “Pun completely intended.”
Steve sighs. “Ignore her. This will do.”
You scrunch your nose.
“This will do just fine,” he adds and walks ahead whilst he takes his sunglasses off. “Good call, dude.”
You drag your feet after Steve. “I hope you guys are up to date on your tetanus shots. One cut here and it’s lights out.”
“You should eat your snacks your dad packed,” Steve throws back at you as he dumps the leftover meat in the middle of the yard. “You’re getting cranky.”
You feign a laugh. “My dad didn’t pack shit. I packed it, I didn’t know how long this monster hunt was gonna take, but just tell me you don’t want snacks and I won’t share with you. Justin and I will have more to eat ” You dump the meat out on the same pile and shoot him a pointed look.
“Dustin, it’s Dustin!”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you mumble.
“I said medium-well!” Another voice startles you.
You look back and see a ginger girl, and a young boy waving.
Dustin and Steve did say a friend of Dustin’s was going to join, you actually didn’t expect it though.
“Who’s that?” Steve points out the girl most likely since Dustin mentioned his friend was a boy.
Alas rather than having Steve’s question answered, Dustin stays quiet, making you glance at him and notice that he looks slightly upset. Whatever for?
“How many kids are you friends with?” You ask Steve as you lean towards him.
Steve leans towards you as the kids approach. “They’re not my friends.” He says.
“Hm,” you hum.
“Who’s this?” The boy points to you as he comes to a stop.
“Y/N,” you introduce yourself with a stiff wave. “A friend of Steve’s.”
The boy shoots Dustin a quizzical look, so the boy quickly explains. “She had guns, so we need her. Steve vouches for her.”
Vouches?
“…So we can trust her. She also knows.” Dustin glances at you. “Y/N, this my friend I mentioned earlier Lucas. L-U-C-A-S, Lucas,” he spells out.
You playfully roll your eyes as you fold your hands over your chest. “I got it man. And this is…” you point to the girl…wait is this eleven? He mentioned she was gone, but is it?
“This is Max…”
No it isn’t.
“Sup,” you greet them both and awkwardly turn away to try and…just look busy. Steve follows you soon after that.
“Don’t you think if this monster is hungry and a predator that it would prefer blood?” You wander out loud. “It must have a drive.” You look back and see Steve pick up some dingy scrap metal.
“I mean Nancy said that blood attracted the Demogorgon last year, but this is different, I mean different instincts, right?” Steve shares.
You shrug and don’t ask why but you also pick up a piece of metal. “Sure. Different animals run by different instincts, but in order to catch prey, they use smell, blood is strong. It could attract what Dustin saw a lot faster.”
Steve sighs. “Sure, but let's take advantage that it isn’t here now to shield this bus.”
You nod and help him and the children fortify the bus to hide while you wait, and hide when that thing comes. And since there’s many helping hands it’s done quickly. And thankfully the monster doesn’t come while you’re building.
Soon albeit the sun sets and the night sky reigns over, bringing a tense wait that is accompanied by silence that you break when you can’t help your thoughts anymore. “So help me understand, how dangerous? Like based on the aliens from the movie Aliens, and well a bear.”
Dustin turns sharply on his heels and answers right away. “Aliens.”
You draw in a breath and nod. “That’s,” you breathe out. “Great.” You slide the gun off your shoulder and drag your body down the bus wall to sit and wait. “So Max, you said you’re new, where do you come from?”
Said girl shifts in her seat before she answers. “California. What about you?”
“London,” you share and turn your head to glance at her. “I didn’t live there, my dad had a job there that took some time, but that’s the last place I was, so.”
Her eyes go wide. “Really? How is it? Is it true that it's never sunny?”
You scoff softly. “It’s not true. You see the sun. Not as much as in California though.” You smile at her. “Would you surf?”
Max shrugs. “Sometimes. I’m more into skating.”
You huff. “Cool. I tried, not my things. I can’t find my balance.”
Max leans over and points to your gun. “Can I shoot that thing?”
You furrow your eyebrows. “No? Do you know how?”
She shakes her head. “I can try,” she tries to assure you. “How hard is it?”
You scoff lightheartedly. “Not hard, but a shotgun is more trickier….come. I can show you while we wait.” You pick up the shotgun and rest it on your lap.
“Really?” Max probes with the sound of excitment.
You take the bullets out and nod. “Yeah, I’ll teach you the way my dad taught me.” You glance up at the younger boys paying close attention. “You boys can come try too. I mean considering we’re monster hunting in a hellscape, it’s important.” You chuckle softly. “Steve, can you give me a quarter from my pack, it’s in the small pocket in the front.”
“Sure,” he sighs and does what you say, while you stand up and walk to where Max is standing at the front. “Okay, first.” You say as you shove the bullets in your pocket. “Grip…here,” you hand her the gun. “Put your trigger hand on the side of the stock wrist, so here,” you point.
Max lifts the gun and does what you say carefully.
“Next,” you continue, “your grip, relax your trigger finger ‘kay? And wrap your remaining fingers around the gun, the way you feel comfortable.” You lower your head and watch her attempt to do it.
“Like this?” She asks.
“Here,” Steve cuts in.
You put your hand out and he throws the quarter into your palm. “Thanks,” you mutter and focus back on Max. “Yeah, like that. Now,” you add, “and with your other hand grab here.” You take her other hand and place it under the fore-end. “Grab it firmly, not too tight or too loose. Firm, got it?” You look up at both boys and notice they’re slowly huddling around you to watch. “Got it?”
Lucas nods and Dustin agrees quietly, letting you move on with a tiny smile.
“Don’t stretch your arm or scrunch. Just…” you trail off and fix her arm. “Like this. This grip will feel natural, so don’t stress too much. The difficult part is the recoil, you hold it wrong, you can knock yourself out, pop out your shoulder, shoot someone else, different variations, but,” you make it clear. “That’s why I'm teaching ya,” you chuckle and catch Steve’s attentive gaze on you.
What does it mean? His eyes are on you, soft it seems, he’s smiling just slightly…so he’s paying attention to your teachings…or you?
You’re being delusional.
“Uh,” you clear your throat and look back at Max to continue instructing. “Lift the stock to your cheek, let it touch the ridge below your cheekbone.”
Max adjusts the gun the way you said, but Dustin cuts in, “that’s not the ridge. Right here,” he leans forward to help her, but Max leans away from his touch.
“Yeah, yeah I got it,” she clarifies.
Dustin pulls back with his hands raised. “Sorry.”
You roll your eyes and continue. “Keep your eyes in line with the barrel, raise your shoulders a bit—good. Like that,” you compliment her. “Now wedge the butt of the gun in your shoulder pocket, right between the shoulder and the pectoral muscles…” you trail off and shift the end of the gun the right away. “Here. You’ll barely feel the recoil that way. Keep your head naturally erect, point the tip of your feet ahead, and put your weight on the balls of your feet.” You look down and fix her stance with your own foot. “Great!
“Now,” you continue excitedly, “this is where the coin comes into play.” You then move away and pass Dustin to lay the quarter on the barrel of the gun. “Look this isn’t a competition, okay? Don’t stress yourselves out if the coin falls, I’ll be shooting today, this is practice.” You tell them sweetly as you step back. “Now the point of this trick is trigger control, if the coin falls it means you’re tilting, dipping, just moving in general. Your goal is to have a steady aim. When that happens the coin won’t fall. Now. Shoot.”
Max exhales deeply and taps the trigger. She then closes one eye before hitting the trigger. And when she does the coin falls, making the boys snicker and Max to groan.
You grin at her. “Hey, its just practice. It happens. It took me a while.” You shift your stance and point your chin at Lucas. “You go next Lucas.”
Said boy smiles with enthusiasm and takes the gun from Max. You have to fix his grip, but once he has it, Max places the coin on the barrel of the gun.
“Go,” you instruct.
This time though before he can shoot the coin falls.
“Come on man,” Lucas complains, and lets Dustin move in.
Dustin manages to get the grip right, so Lucas quickly places the coin down. As soon as Dustin shoots though the coin tilts and falls.
“Bummer,” Lucas teases his friend.
Dustin shoots him a pointed glare. “You didn’t get to shoot so shut up.”
You take the gun from Dustin and look to Steve. “You want to give it a try?” You ask him. “Show me those skill you were showing off?”
Steve meets your gaze and then glances at the gun in your hand and shakes his head. “No, you guys do it. Someone has to keep watch.”
You don’t insist. “Okay, then two more tries for each of you. We do have shit to do. Max, again.”
As the kids go again Max fails her second time, Lucas does manage to keep the coin on this time, but when he shoots it falls, and Dustin fails before he can shoot. The third time, Dustin is eager so he does his turn back to back, but fails when he shoots. Max snatches the gun and again loses the same way, Lucas however, on his third attempt manages to keep the coin on the gun.
“Hey, great job kid,” you compliment the grinning boy. “That was good. If I get mauled to death you can take over.”
“Beginners luck,” Dustin complains and walks away.
Max scoffs. “Cool, but I will be better.”
Lucas shrugs and muses. “It’s all my wrist rocket training. So don’t worry you can all stand behind me when shit goes down.”
Max shakes her head, but you catch a small smile as she shoves past him to retake her seat.
“Thanks,” Lucas now directs at you as he hands you back your gun. “That was cool. I guess Steve wasn’t wrong about bringing you here.”
The thought of siblings always kind of pissed you off, you enjoyed your dads attention all to yourself. You enjoyed your grandma's attention; even if doing all the chores by yourself was ass you never wanted help from someone like a brother or sister. But being stuck here with these kids…well it’s not so bad. You like sharing your wisdom.
You smile softly and mutter back. “Thanks. And this goes for all of you, if you want more practice you can come over…I mean it’s kinda weird, but life-saving? Plus you guys can annoy my dad too. He’s good with guns.”
Lucas nods slowly. “Yeah, that’s cool.”
“Yeah, I mean now the Eleven is gone, and these things are coming back, we need the skills,” Dustin interjects. “Lucas' wrist rocket won’t save shit.”
Lucas turns to shoot Dustin an offended look.
Dustin just shrugs, so Lucas moves on and just climbs up to watch from the top. Which, he’s a kid, but he wants to keep watch, so you all let him, leaving Dustin, Max, Steve and you to wait inside.
“You have siblings?” Steve asks as you sit back down beside him.
You begin to put the bullets back in the gun, and shake your head. “Nah. My parents separated young. My mom, well you know her…she has no time for kids. And my dad never married again, he had girlfriends but they never had kids.” You look over at him. “You?”
Steve shakes his head too. “No, my parents just never tried again. I don’t mind though, I mean…” he sighs. “One forgotten kid is enough.”
You sigh and gently nudge him. “You’re not forgotten, you’re just experiencing life without them. Creating stories,” you try to assure him.
“Yeah, sure.”
There isn’t much you can say, you can’t relate to him, you just try to make him feel better. That’s what friends do.
“So you really fought one of these things before?” You hear Max direct at Steve.
You look at him and catch him nod as he fidgets with his lighter, leading Max to her next question.
“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”
“Shit,” Dustin cuts in bluntly. “Don’t be an idiot. Okay? It wasn’t a bear. Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?”
Oh jeez. Harsh. Mean. Dick.
“Just go home.”
Max gets off her seat and counters. “Geesh. Someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” She climbs up the ladders in the middle of the bus and joins Lucas on the roof, leaving you to awkwardly focus back at your shotgun.
“That’s good,” Steve comments. “Just show her you don’t care.”
“I don’t,” Dustin spats back. “Why are you winking, Steve? Stop.”
You glance over at said man and shake your head, he just shrugs and hits you back with a sassy comment. “We all like different things.”
You sigh and cock the gun to have it ready. “So you want to be treated like trash?” You comment on his logic.
Steve gets cocky and shrugs. “Ignore me and I’ll be all over you.”
You snicker. “You’ll swoon?” You tease.
“Yeah sure.”
You smile. “Is that how Nancy won you over?” You ask.
Steve blinks and his smile flickers away, but he maintains it and shakes his head. “I won her over with my charms. I was hard to resist.”
You snort. “Well, it seems I’m going to need some advice,” you tell him. “‘Cause I want to impress this guy. And well I don’t know shit.”
Steve leans close to you and throws his arm around your shoulders. “I got you. Just don’t dance like the other night and you’ll be okay.”
You giggle. “The music spoke to me,” you joke. “But you’re not such a great dancer yourself.”
Steve scoffs and playfully pushes you to the side. He’s about to comment something but then a loud growl in the distance cuts him off and has you both go stiff and fearful.
However, he then quickly turns and looks out the window, Dustin joins his side, and you sit there with your mouth agape, your eyes wide and full of disbelief and horror.
The possibility of monsters was never something you laughed at thanks to what your dad is after, thanks to what you know of Hawkins Lab, but well it didn't set, you hadn’t seen it with your own eyes or heard it until now.
“What do you see?” You ask Steve quietly in case the monster had some kind of super hearing.
“Nothing,” Steve says.
Oh fuck. That’s worse than actually seeing something. Fuck. Fuck!
“Lucas, what’s going on?!” Dustin yells out.
You pick up your shotgun and slowly turn to peek over Steve’s shoulder.
“Hold on!” Lucas shouts back.
There’s nothing but fog and that pile of meat you all left as bait. There’s rusted junk and woods. Fuck. Fuck!
Okay don’t freak out. That’s the first weakness in shit like this. Right? So just remain calm. Calm.
“I’ve got eyes!” Ten o’clock!”
Fuck!
“Ten o’clock!”
You slowly drag your eyes towards the direction, but you don’t catch anything right away. It’s not until you squint your eyes that you catch a dark figure through the thick fog; it looks like some black skinny coyote.
“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks.
“I don’t know,” Steve answers.
The sound of soft chitter travels inside the bus, making the beat of your already racing heart pound faster.
“He’s not taking the bait,” Steve comments as you watch the monster just stand there. “Why is not taking the bait?”
“Maybe he’s not hungry?” you mutter shakily.
“Maybe he’s sick of cow,” Steve says before he pushes himself back to stand to his given height. You and Dustin watch him, and you notice that he wasn’t up to anything good.
“What?” You murmur.
Steve turns and walks to the doors, making you follow after him. “Hey, hey, what are you doing? Steve?”
Said man turns and shows off his lighter. “Just get ready.” He then throws the lighter, and Dustin catches it since you’re still standing there confused.
“You can’t just get out and risk your life like that,” you sneer. “It’s stupid.”
Steve opens the doors and only responds when he’s stepped out. “Only if I get caught.” He looks back at you and points his chin at the handle. “Close it. Be ready for when I come back.”
You lick your lips nervously and nod since you can’t argue with him anymore. When you close the doors behind him you walk to the last step and watch him stalk towards the monster.
When it doesn’t get closer though, Steve then whistles and tries to lure it close. “Come on, buddy.” He then continues to whistle as he swings his bat low.
Meanwhile, inside someone steps down, you don’t know who until you hear Max question Steve’s tactics. “What’s he doing?”
“Expanding the menu,” Dustin answers as you keep your eyes trained on Steve as he gets closer to the pile of meat.
“He’s insane,” Max comments.
You nod in agreement, but Dustin applauds Steve’s actions. “He’s awesome.”
This time as the monster gets close to Steve, you finally manage to get a good glimpse; you see that besides walking on all fours, it’s not like a coyote at all. The monster doesn’t seem to have eyes which makes it even more terrifying, and the head looks like….like a closed flower. It looks slimy too, especially as the moonlight reflects on it.
It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before, not like any monster from any movie. This is real and horrifying.
Fuck, why did you come?
“Steve! Watch out!” Lucas warns.
You look over at the hatch and then back out the window, but only see the one.
“Three o’clock! Three o’clock!”
There’s more?!
Footsteps rush over and before you can look Dustin barges in front of you and opens the doors. “Steve!” He yells out. “Abort! Abort!”
The monster cuts in with a growl as Steve has his back turned. When Steve gives it attention, the monster charges at him and opens his head like a flower; only this isn’t beautiful, its mouth is a weapon full of darkness.
More growls throughout the junkyard fill the air before you actually see them charge at him from all directions, closing his path to the bus bit by bit, and making you just as stupid as Steve as a thought comes to mind.
You don’t even double think it, you pull a switchblade out of your coat pocket and hop off the bus to run towards the other side where Steve wasn't.
“Y/N! Hey! Wait! What are you doing?!” Dustin bellows.
You glance over at Steve and see him swing his bat covered in nails at one of the monsters. Not like it helped, more huddle around him and get closer by the second. So you do the only thing you can think of and cut your palm with the blade.
It stings like hell, you grimace at the burning pain, but the moment blood pours out, and the first drop hits the ground, all the monsters stop and snap their heads back at you.
So blood does call their attention a lot better. Good to know.
“Come on!” You taunt them. “Come on!”
Without waiting another second all the monsters charge at you now, letting you snap your eyes to Steve. “Go!” You yell at him. “Get inside go! I’ll use the back ladders!”
Steve hesitates, he meets your gaze with his eyes wide, with his lips parted and his chest heaving. He looks almost dumbfounded or in awe, so he just stands there looking at you.
“Steve!” You break him from his stupor.
Said man blinks repeatedly, and then does what you say and runs back inside, letting you turn and run to the ladders.
The monsters weren’t close at first, but they’re fast. One manages to break from its group and gets closer to you, causing you to quickly strap your shotgun over your shoulders and rush up the stairs.
You don’t look back, you keep your eyes ahead and pick up your speed. When you reach the top, Steve is sticking his head out of the hatch and hurrying you over. “Come on! Come on!”
You stand on the top, but when you take your first step your shoe slips because of the moisture from the fog that had lightly layered the ground. “Uh, fuck!” You say between pants after you fall on your knees.
“Hurry!” Steve bellows.
You don’t bother standing back up, it would be stupid, you’d only slip again. So instead you crawl over as fast as you can, hearing the monsters now crowd around the bus trying to figure a way in and up.
“I’m almost there!” You cry out with panic. “Don’t leave me!”
Steve shakes his head and stretches his hand out. “I won’t! Just come on!”
When you reach the makeshift post the kids built you stand up and jump over it. The moment you get close to Steve, he climbs down, letting you follow him inside the bus. It isn’t the best place, worst case scenario you’re all perfectly boxed in ready to get eaten, best case scenario the monsters are stupid and can’t find a way in. However, based on the fact that they seem to be throwing their bodies against the bus, they’ll figure a way in.
“Fuck! Fuck!” You panic as your eyes dart around the bus. “I’m going to call my dad!” You break away from the stairs to dig through your backpack on the seat.
Luckily the walkie isn’t deep in your backpack you find it right away. But as you do one the monsters seems to have crashed through the rusted metal. You quickly look over as you turn on the walkie, but the seat covers the view so you only see Steve beating It, and hear the monster screeching.
“Dad! Pa!” You cry through the walkie. “I need your help! I’m at a junkyard with my friend…friends! And we’re getting attacked by monsters from Hawkins Lab! Please come!” You let go of the button and wait.
But there’s only static, so you go again. “Dad?! Dad?!”
Another bang hits the side across from you, causing you to jump and look over to see the monster was tearing apart the scrap metal.
“Dad!” You keep calling as you begin to move away from the windows.
“…we’re at the old junkyard, and we are going to die!” Dustin yells at his own walkie.
“Dad—” You then cut yourself off as the banging stops, and one loud clatter hits the back door. A banging then hits the top of the bus…
Fuck, they’re climbing?!
More banging hits the ceiling, and then over the open hatch stands a monster.
Max screams, and the monster opens its mouth again, letting you see all the razor sharp teeth it has in every inch of its flesh. The sight makes you freeze, but only for a little because you then remember you have your gun.
“Out of the way!” Steve yells as he cuts through the kids to try and hit the monster, however you drop the walkie and cut him off to lift the gun.
The monster growls at you, opening its mouth wide and spreading its disgusting smell, so you respond by hitting the trigger.
The bullet shoots out and goes into its open mouth, piercing through the flesh. And since the monster was close, the power of the bullet impact throws it back.
It’s not over yet though, because then another monster begins to run at the hatch. Just as it shows itself though it turns it’s head away and looks out for a moment. It then growls out as if responding to something before it jumps off the bus. The others that were with it seem to follow it since growls echo in the distance.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp and lower the gun. “Fuck.” You stumble back and plop on the seat to catch your breath.
Steve however, walks to the door and opens it. The kids follow him, so as to not stay alone, you shove your walkie back in your pack, and then throw it over your shoulder to walk out with them
“What happened?” Lucas asks what you’re all thinking.
“I don’t know,” you mumble and push through them to walk out.
“Y/N scared ‘em off?” Dustin asks.
“No,” Steve answers quickly. “No way.” Steve turns to face the kids and you. “They’re going somewhere.”
Fuck.
“And,” you interject between heavy breaths. “We’re going after them?” You ask.
Steve meets your gaze and nods. “Yeah we have to. I’d tell you to go home, but…” he swallows thickly. “We need you.”
You should go home regardless, find your dad who doesn’t answer your calls for help, but you’re stupid. They need you, so you’re continuing on.
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.
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Tagged- @middle-of-the-earth @x-theolivia @redskull199987 @lilyhw1
#fanfiction#damn-stark#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#Stargirl#stranger things series#stranger things s2#chapter 3#steve harrington series#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#dustin henderson#max mayfield#lucas sinclair#stranger things season three#stranger things season 2
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