#it's NOT that she LIKES her LIKE THAT it's NOTHIN I'm watching it cos it's like this is happening while also not happening pretty gay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punkshort · 3 months

Text

weekend getaway

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (established relationship)

Summary: Joel whisks you away for a surprise Valentine's Day weekend.

Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, fingering, size kink (maybe? Idk it's mentioned), soft!joel, some very mild allusions to pregnancy, oral (m receiving), panty ripping, cheesy because this is still a Hallmark-type couple so don't look at me

WC: 9.2K

Series Masterlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

tagging @morallyinept for your V-Day list consideration

"Any big plans for Valentine's Day?" your project supervisor, Kelly, asked over your Zoom call. You glanced at the clock on your wall - 4:30. Why did she always feel the need to ask questions and prolong a meeting right at the end of the day? And on a Friday, no less.

You anxiously jiggled your foot under your desk as you listened to the rest of the group detail their weekend plans with loved ones. When it was your turn, you tapped your spacebar to unmute.

"I'm going to dinner with my boyfriend and his daughter tonight," you said quickly, wanting the meeting to end so you could go get ready. As if on cue, you heard a key sliding into your front door and Joel stepped through, shooting you a cheesy grin. He was about to walk over and give you a kiss, but you held your hand up and discreetly pointed to your monitor, indicating you were still on a video call.

He nodded and instead went into your kitchen and opened up the fridge. You frowned when you realized he was still in jeans and a T-shirt.

"Why aren't you dressed? Where's Sarah?" you asked when he got a little closer, ignoring your co-worker who was rambling on about her weekend plans.

He just shrugged and winked before heading to your couch, not saying a word.

Your call went on for another fifteen minutes while you stared at the back of Joel's head as he flicked through the channels on your TV. What was going on?

"Are we not doing dinner tonight?" you asked as you slid your headset off and powered down your computer.

"We are, but it'll have to be on the road," he said casually, barely glancing backwards over the couch.

"The road?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side as you came over to stand next to the couch. He nodded and turned off the TV to finally look at you with a flicker of playfulness in his eyes.

"I'm takin' you away for the weekend," he said, grinning when your face lit up.

"What?" you exclaimed in disbelief. "I thought-"

"It was just to throw you off, I never made plans for dinner tonight. Tommy's watchin' Sarah all weekend, so it's just me and you," he said, pushing himself off the couch so he could wrap his arms around you. You tilted your chin up, brushing your lips over his softly as your arms snaked around his waist.

"I like the sound of that," you murmured, giving him another kiss and feeling his facial hair tickle your cheek when his lips turned up into a smirk.

"Better go pack a bag," he said, pulling away and tapping your ass, urging you towards your bedroom. You let out a squeak of excitement as you trotted into your room and grabbing a duffel bag, you began to pack your toiletries.

"Bring a dress," he said, leaning against your doorframe, watching you maneuver in and out of your bathroom, your hands filled.

"What kind of dress?" you asked.

"The red one. The one you wore to Sarah's recital."

"That one? But I have so many I haven't even worn yet," you said, scrunching your nose as you came back into the room, heading towards your closet.

"Yeah, but I really like that one," he said, coming up behind you, his hand finding a home on your hip as you shuffled through your clothes. You found it pushed to the back of your closet and pulled the dress out, showing it to him with your eyebrow raised and he nodded his approval.

"What else do you want me to wear?" you asked him.

"You know if it were up to me, it would be nothin'," he teased, and you giggled.

"Well, I hope you can make an exception, otherwise you're going to hate your Valentine's gift."

He groaned and felt himself stir below his waist when he realized what you meant.

"Hurry up and pack. We got a two hour drive and if you keep talkin' like that, we ain't gonna make it," he said, sauntering out of your bedroom, shaking his head.

You had been to Houston a few times in the past, but only ever with your family for shopping trips or to visit your aunt and uncle who lived out that way. But visiting the city with Joel felt like you were seeing it for the very first time. He always had a way of making something ordinary feel special.

Joel had booked two nights at The Houstonian Hotel, and when you first walked into the lobby, your jaw dropped. It was absolutely stunning and unlike any hotel you've ever stayed in before. The floors appeared to be all original hardwood, and the walls were designed to match: a dark paneling with a delicate wainscotting decorating the wood from floor to ceiling. Joel led you towards the front desk to check in, but your eyes were glued to the massive stone fireplace in the center of the room surrounded by cozy looking couches and chairs in front of the roaring fire. Your head tilted up to admire the exposed wooden beams and sparkling chandeliers when Joel got your attention.

"Did you want access to the gym or tennis court?" he asked again, pleased at how impressed you seemed to be with the hotel he chose.

"Huh? Oh, no thank you," you said, shaking your head and giving the man behind the front desk a smile.

"Joel, this place is incredible," you whispered, wrapping your hand around his bicep as you waited for the elevator. "You didn't have to go through so much trouble. I would have slept in your truck if it meant I got to spend time with you."

He grinned as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

"Yeah, but my truck doesn't have a hot tub or enormous bathtub, and I intend on getting you in both before the weekend's through."

You felt your cheeks warm as you giggled, glancing up at the numbers above the door, eager to see your room.

"Oh my god, this place is so beautiful," you exclaimed when Joel swung open the door to your room and ushered you inside. The wallpaper was patterned with broad vertical stripes in a shimmery silver color that matched the comforter and sheets on the king sized bed in the middle of the room, with pink and red rose petals scattered across the fabric. Opposite the bed was a flat screen TV mounted to the wall with a small chest of drawers right below and a dozen perfect, red roses in a vase on top. You were about to hurry over to the window and check out the view when Joel flicked the lights on in the bathroom, catching your attention and making you gasp.

The room was huge. There was the enormous, freestanding bathtub Joel promised, right in front of a floor length tinted window. Next to the tub was a spacious shower encased in glass, and behind you were two sinks and a mirror almost as big as the wall.

"Wow," was all you could say, your eyes still taking in the room, noticing a pink orchid on the sink and fern in the corner for the first time.

"You like it?" he asked softly, watching you closely. You swiveled around to look at him, your eyes still wide with shock.

"I love it," you said, still a little breathless. He grinned and stepped forward to wrap his arms around you.

"Good. Wanted to make our first Valentine's Day special," he murmured before leaning down slightly to press his lips gently against yours.

"Well, you succeeded because I don't think I want to leave this room all weekend," you whispered, bringing your hands up to grip the sides of his head for another kiss.

"Don't tempt me. I'll cancel the dinner reservation I made for tomorrow without thinkin' twice," he said, grinning against your mouth as you continued to pepper his face with kisses.

"So you're saying we don't have any plans tonight?" you asked suggestively, dragging your mouth down his prickly jaw, biting at his skin lightly as you went. His grip around you tightened.

"Just thought we could relax, knew we'd be gettin' in kinda late," he murmured, his eyes sliding shut when your mouth made its way to his neck, never growing tired of the way you made him feel.

"I know a great way to relax," you replied, your fingers inching up his chest as you continued to suck and bite your way down the column of his throat. You could feel his exhale tickling the top of your head, his breath quickening as your hands dropped down under the hem of his shirt. "Why don't we take that bath you mentioned?"

"Yes," he whispered, eyes still closed and leaning into your touch.

"Tell you what," you sighed, your mouth barely leaving his skin. "You go check in with Sarah, and I'll get the tub ready."

"Okay," he said softly as if he were in a trance. Nobody has ever made him weak in the knees the way you do, and he loved it.

Leaving Joel in the bedroom to call Sarah, you turned the water on, dipping your fingers under the stream until you found the perfect temperature, then turned your attention to the amenities that were left on the sink. Picking up each little bottle, you read the descriptions until you found bubble bath. Twisting open the cap, you sniffed the pleasant floral scent before dumping it into the water and swirling it around, trying to encourage the bubbles to form. Once you thought there was enough water, you turned off the faucet, allowing you to hear the end of Joel's conversation in the next room. You thought you heard him asking Sarah about an action movie you assumed she and Tommy were watching as you stripped down and slipped into the water, leaning back against the side and closing your eyes with a heavy sigh. The warmth combined with the heavenly scent soothed your muscles almost immediately.

This was absolutely perfect. You were constantly amazed by the way Joel treated you, but this weekend might take the cake.

You heard a noise so you opened your eyes, then grinned when you found Joel leaning up against the doorframe, gazing at you from across the room.

"Sorry, I got started without you," you teased, and although the bubbles hid your body from the neck down, the way he looked at you made you feel like he could see everything.

"This's gotta be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, still standing in the doorway. Then his eyes lit up when an idea occurred to him. "Can I take a picture?"

"What?" you giggled, taken aback by his request.

"You can't see anythin'," he assured you, stepping into the room. "I just wanna remember you exactly the way you are, right now."

"Okay..." you agreed hesitantly, watching as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then looked up to give him a smile. He clicked his tongue and lowered the phone a bit so he could look at you.

"I want a real smile," he said, and you snorted.

"That is my real smile."

"Nah, that's your polite smile. I want the real thing," he told you. You gave him your polite smile again, but this time he kept his phone up, knowing how to draw out what he was looking for.

"I love you, baby."

You felt the warmth in your cheeks and your smile stretch wide across your face. Your eyes shyly dropped down to look at the water and then you heard the shutter click on his phone.

"That's the one," he said proudly, looking at it quickly before setting his phone on the sink.

"Good. Now get in here."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin, and hastily undid his belt, watching greedily as he peeled off his clothes, one by one. You noticed with pride he was already having a reaction to you and he hadn't even seen you naked yet.

He stepped into the water with a hiss, then slipped his whole body underneath the bubbles, resting against the other end of the tub with a smile.

"Feels good," he mumbled.

"Not too girly?" you asked, scooting forward and scooping up some bubbles with your hands, then reached out to rub them into his beard, making him chuckle.

"Not at all," he said, still smiling as the bubbles you planted on his cheeks began to drip down into the water. His eyes scanned your face for a moment before he spread his legs under the water and beckoned you forward with his hands.

"C'mere."

You nimbly turned around so you were facing the same direction, then leaned back, resting flat against his chest. His hands squeezed your shoulders gently and then slid down your arms, dipping below the water. You hummed and rested the back of your head against his shoulder. His fingers danced across your skin underneath the bubbles, calloused palms dragging over your soft stomach slowly, and by now, the evidence of his arousal was pressing firmly into your lower back.

"You're so beautiful, d'you know that?" he whispered in your ear. His knees tucked underneath your legs, parting them and spreading them wide, holding them open underneath the water. Your pulse began to thrum faster when you realized what he was doing.

"Relax," he reminded you, feeling you tense up as his hand drifted further down. You exhaled shakily and closed your eyes, letting your muscles go lax as his hands massaged your hips, slowly making their way between your legs.

You gasped softly when two of his fingers found your clit. He began to draw slow, deliberate circles while his other hand snuck up and massaged your breast. His mouth left kisses all down the side of your neck as his fingers steadily worked just below the surface, building you up slowly in only the way he knew how.

"I love you," you whispered, eyes still closed but brows pinched and jaw slack as your breathing began to devolve into short pants. You were fairly certain you repeated it a number of times, I love you, I love you, but you were too lost, his fingers knowing what you needed better than your own ever could.

He might have said it back, you couldn't remember. His fingers picked up the pace between your legs while his other hand rolled your nipple expertly between his thumb and forefinger, and you found yourself gripping the side of the tub frantically as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere, blinding you and making you see stars somehow at the same time.

"So pretty... that's my girl... love how you say my name when you come," he mumbled.

You didn't even realize you were saying it, but you believed him.

"Oh, my god," you gasped, finally opening your eyes, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. His fingers slowed, then stilled, then gently pulled away, causing you to shudder, even though you were surrounded by so much warmth.

Once you managed to come back down to earth, you turned your head to the side, your lips latching onto his. He immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue delving inside your mouth, licking past your teeth urgently. His hand rose up, the splashing of water the only sound in the room, and gently gripped your chin, index finger and thumb pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks, prying your mouth open so he could feast.

You dropped your hand below the bubbles, your tongues still dancing, the grip on your jaw still firm and wet. Lifting your hips so your fingers could search underneath, you lined his throbbing length against your opening before slowly easing down.

The kiss stalled, open mouths hovering over the other as you each focused intently on him entering you, and only when you finally were able to accommodate his size and take him all did you both sigh with relief.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he whined as his fingers released their grip on your jaw. Your head fell limply against his shoulder but still turned to the side so you could look at him. "How are- shit," he cursed, his hips slowing down when water splashed over the side of the tub. "How are you still so tight? Goddamn," he groaned.

Your arm snaked up out of the water, reaching behind you, hand getting lost in his curls and pulling him down for a sloppy kiss as his hips rocked into you steadily from behind. You had no idea how he did it, but every time with him felt like the first time, and it always took your breath away.

"'Cause you're so big," you whispered against his mouth, knowing that answer would spark something in him. And you were right. His eyes flashed excitedly at the compliment and his hips moved faster, making you moan.

"Yeah?" he pressed, urging you to continue as he panted against your cheek. "Biggest you've ever had?"

"Yes," you admitted quickly, nodding your head, mouth agape as he nudged against that spot inside you that always made you come undone. "Oh god, Joel," you whimpered, trying to stave off your orgasm, knowing it was coming too soon after your first one.

Your legs began to shake as his knees pinned them to the sides of the tub, keeping you spread wide open as he thrusted into you, water sloshing over the sides and splashing your faces, but neither of you cared.

"Need you to come," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm close, baby, need you to come. Can you- fuck, can you come for me?"

"Yeah," you whined, then gasped when his hand unexpectedly dove under the water to find your clit again. It took no time at all for him to draw another orgasm from you, this one much faster than the first, but somehow even more powerful. When you clenched around him and cried out his name, fingers slipping through his wet hair, he couldn't hold back any longer. Your body sagged against him as he thrusted slow, long strokes, groaning as he came deep inside you, pulling your hips against him roughly until his body stilled and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Shit," he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead into your hair. He began to soften inside you but he wasn't ready to move just yet. Wrapping his arms around you, he held you close against his chest until the water began to cool and he felt goosebumps prickle your skin.

"Let's get you to bed," he said, and you nodded sleepily.

He drained the tub and wrapped you in one of the two robes that hung on the back of the door, taking the other for himself before pulling the comforter back, disregarding the rose petals on the bed.

You slid underneath the soft, cool sheets, still wrapped in the fuzzy robe, completely uninterested in unpacking and finding pajamas. Joel curled up behind you, his arm snaking around your waist and pulled you tight against him.

As he felt your breath deepen and slow, he was confident that he had never been more content in his entire life than he was in that moment.

The next morning was lazy and slow. For once, neither of you felt compelled to start the day. There was no urgency about running errands or getting to work or keeping up with Sarah and her busy schedule. When you woke, after murmuring Happy Valentine's Day against each other's mouths between kisses, you sleepily discussed options for breakfast, both of you scrolling on your phones, scanning menus for nearby cafes before ultimately deciding on room service just so you could lounge in bed a bit longer.

Sitting perched on top of the crumpled comforter, rose petals still haphazardly scattered about, you put your trays in the middle of the bed, picking off of each other's plates and taking a quick picture of the heart shaped pancakes before devouring them. He reached forward to collect some whipped cream from the corner of your mouth with his thumb and you fed him a strawberry, giggling when he gently snagged your finger tip with his teeth to suck the juices that stained your skin.

"Give me a real smile," you teased him, holding your phone in front of your face and biting back a laugh at how silly he looked, still clad in the plush hotel robe, revealing a generous amount of his tanned chest, with a pile of rose petals balancing on top of his messy curls.

After you snapped a couple pictures, he lunged forward and yanked your phone from your grasp, rose petals fluttering down around you as you giggled. He pinned you into the bed and smothered you with kisses as you writhed underneath him, acting like you wanted to get away but you couldn't imagine anywhere else you'd rather be. Rolling off to the side, he held your phone up above your faces and started taking pictures: a blurry, off-centered one, one where you were both smiling and kissing, another where you gently sunk your teeth onto his earlobe and he pretended to be in pain.

You couldn't have imagined a more perfect way to wake up on Valentine's Day.

"What are we doing today?" you asked him as you pulled on your sneakers once you both finally relented and decided you should at least see the city a little bit before you had to leave tomorrow.

"There's some great museums, thought you'd like to pick one. There's always the zoo or the aquarium. Or we can just walk 'round-"

"Museum sounds perfect," you told him, standing up on your tiptoes to give him what was likely the millionth kiss in the past twelve hours.

"Then I got us reservations at some fancy Italian spot two blocks over," he said, squinting down at his phone while he walked, leading you to the elevator. "Here's all the museums downtown, pick the best one," he said, handing you his phone and pressing the button for the elevator.

"The best one?" you repeated with a laugh.

"Y'know what I mean," he smirked, stepping forward into the elevator and pushing the lobby button.

You decided on the science museum, thinking maybe you could find Sarah a cool souvenir while you were there. She had recently taken an interest in Ancient Egypt and you noticed they had an exhibition on the topic.

Although the museum was a ways away from your hotel and the air was frigid, you still chose to walk. Hand in hand, you strolled together down the street, admiring the tall buildings and bridges in the distance.

When you walked past a coffee shop, Joel ushered you both inside to warm up and get some hot drinks to hold before you reached the museum. When the barista asked what you wanted, Joel answered for you, telling him your favorite drink, rattling it off from memory as if it were his phone number, and you smiled.

You had each finished your drinks right before reaching the museum. Tossing your empty cup into a nearby garbage can, you dropped your hand to your side, fingers seeking his out of habit, always looking for a reason to touch him. As you watched him gaze up at the enormous dinosaur skeleton that greeted you in the front lobby, you wondered how on earth you got so lucky. With so many people in the world, how was it possible you found him? Was it fate? Destiny? But at the same time, you wondered why it took so long to find each other. You each could have saved yourselves so much pain with past lovers, but maybe you both needed to feel that pain in order to fully appreciate what you have now.

"Sarah's going to be so jealous she missed this," you murmured as you slowly strolled through an exhibition about space.

Joel tried to pay attention to the endless stars and galaxies above your heads, but the dim overhead lighting accentuating your perfect features kept drawing his gaze.

Your hands linked together loosely, he followed you around the dark room, watching as your eyes sparkled and the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile when you saw something especially beautiful. He glanced around the nearly empty exhibition before tugging on your hand, spinning you around in surprise and pulling you against his chest. His free hand came up to pinch your chin, tipping your face up to his and pressing his lips gently against yours.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know," you replied with a teasing grin.

He watched as you entered the Ancient Egypt exhibition, dropping his hand so you could pull out your phone and take pictures. You smiled down at the screen, your thumbs tapping away quickly, far quicker than he ever could, as you texted his daughter some pictures with a message that included the words we miss you, happy Valentine's Day, kiddo.

"Which one should we get her?" you asked him in the gift shop, turning around to hold up two books. He took his time examining each one while thinking about how sweet you always were with Sarah. She never told him outright, but he could tell she looked up to you, and while he and Tommy did their best to give Sarah everything she ever needed after her mom abandoned them, he always knew he couldn't give her everything, no matter how hard he tried. But seeing his daughter with you over the past few months, he could already tell you were giving her something she always craved: a strong, warm, maternal presence in her life.

"This one," he said finally, putting the other book back on the shelf.

"I hope you don't mind if I wait til after dinner to give you your gift," you told him, walking down the street together, one hand linked with his, the other gripping the plastic bag that carried Sarah's book.

He suddenly remembered what you alluded to while you were packing and he turned to you with great interest.

"Can I get a hint?"

You giggled, your cheeks beginning to warm even though the air was cold.

"It matches the dress you picked out for me."

He groaned, mentally trying to divert the rush of blood literally anywhere else other than between his legs.

When you got ready for dinner that evening, Joel leaving you to your own devices in the luxurious bathroom, you dug through your duffel bag, fingertips searching for the small, black bag you had hidden the bright red lingerie in. Double checking the door was locked, you pulled out the delicate material, rubbing the small roses that adorned the fabric between the pads of your fingers. Stripping down, you carefully tugged the underwear over each leg, your hips swaying side to side until the lace covered your lower half. You gave the string bikini strap a little snap before pulling the matching bra on, clasping it and adjusting the straps before looking in the mirror.

He would be able to see right through the lace, and the thought of his reaction thrilled you.

You slipped into the red dress he picked out and you checked your hair and makeup once more before putting on a pair of heels you hadn't worn in months that you knew would make your calves ache later, but it would be worth it.

Stepping out of the bathroom quietly, you managed to get a glimpse of him before he heard you as he was bent over the dresser, tilting his head slightly to check his hair in the mirror and you thought you'd never seen him look more handsome. He caught your eye in the reflection and smirked before turning around, dragging his gaze up and down your body appreciatively before stepping towards you and enveloping you in his arms.

"You look perfect," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at the side of your neck, and if it weren't for the lipstick you had just applied moments ago, you would have left your own bites on his skin.

"Just gotta put on my tie, then we can go," he said, pulling back, but you grabbed his hand.

"I like it better without," you told him, your fingers coming up to fix the collar of his crisp white dress shirt, then falling to undo the top two buttons, your finger nail scraping gently at the newly exposed skin before running your hands down his shoulders and picking off a small piece of lint from his black blazer.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk.

Before leaving the room, he pulled out his phone and flipped the camera so he could take a selfie, standing behind you with one arm around your waist, his chin nuzzled against your neck, he murmured I love you and once you flashed that real smile of yours, he quickly snapped the picture.

"This place is beautiful," you said, fairly certain you had said it at least three times now, but it was true. The lighting was dim, creating a soft, intimate atmosphere that invited hushed conversations and quick kisses amongst the candlelight.

"Glad you like it," Joel replied, his arm stretching across the white linen tablecloth, fingers tangling with yours next to your empty plates. Your waiter came by silently to scoop up the dirty dishes and refill your wine, but you had hardly noticed. The way the candlelight danced across his face kept you so entranced that you had to force yourself to look away or else you might find yourself sitting on his lap in front of the whole restaurant.

His thumb stroked your knuckles as you glanced around, trying to clear your head. It appeared the whole place was filled with couples just like you: happy and madly in love. You smiled to yourself when you saw an older couple feeding each other tiramisu, your eyes continuing to drift across the room until they stopped on a beautiful woman with warm, brown skin and hair who happened to be staring right at you. When your eyes met hers, she quickly looked away, turning her head back to her date.

"You know why I asked you to wear that dress?"

Joel's voice brought you back to the present. You turned back to him with a smile and shook your head.

"The night you wore that was the night I realized I was in love with you," he said, eyes dropping shyly to the table for a moment before meeting yours again.

"Sarah's recital?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Yep," he said, leaning forward a bit more. "Knew that night I was a goner."

You giggled and he smiled, about to tell you how much he loved your laugh, but you spoke first.

"For me, it was the afternoon I helped you wrap presents," you said, feeling your cheeks warm from both the wine and your admission. Your eyes flicked around the restaurant and found that same woman looking at you again, but this time she didn't look away. It was dark and difficult to see, but you thought she looked familiar.

"Ah, so sad, pathetic men do it for you?" he asked, raising a playful eyebrow, and you laughed.

"Maybe," you said, your eyes drifting over to the woman again, who was now involved in what appeared to be a serious conversation with her date.

"Don't make it obvious, but does that woman in the black dress look familiar to you? I can't place her and she keeps looking over here," you said, tilting your head to the side so he knew what direction to look. He sat back in his chair and let his gaze slowly and casually drag around the room before he stopped on the woman in question.

Joel didn't blink. He forgot how to breathe. His grip on your fingers tightened while his throat began to squeeze shut, unable to look away. It was like he was seeing a ghost, and in a way, he was.

"Joel?" he heard you say, but your voice sounded so far away.

"Uh," he stammered, unable to form any coherent sentence.

"Are you okay? You look pale," you said, sounding concerned, and he finally tore his eyes away so he could look at you.

"That's..." he paused and took a big sip of wine. "That's Sarah's mom."

"What?!" you whispered, eyes wide as you tried your hardest not to look at her again. Now you knew why she looked so familiar: you had seen an old picture of her and Joel on Facebook when you first started dating.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"I-I don't know," he said, letting go of your hand so he could rub his eyes. "Long time. Years. I had no idea she was even still in the damn state."

"Do you want to go? Maybe we should go," you said, lifting your arm to catch your waiter's attention, but he stopped you.

"No. We ain't leavin'. This is our night, I'm not gonna let her ruin it."

"She can't ruin it," you said, locking eyes with him. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her use her napkin and stand up, heading in your direction.

"Okay, she's coming over here."

"What?" he whispered, seized with panic.

"It's fine. You're fine, Joel," you said firmly. He nodded and swallowed, focusing on your voice to keep him grounded. When she approached your table, you looked up and forced a smile.

"Hi, I'm Char," she said with a smile of her own, reaching out her long, thin arm to shake your hand. Joel stiffened in his chair, his muscles feeling so tight it was starting to hurt.

"Hi," you replied, taking her hand and giving her your name before shifting your nervous smile in Joel's direction.

She looked at Joel as well, giving him an awkward wave and he tried to smile, he really did, but he felt frozen.

"Can we talk?" he thought he heard her ask. He shook his head, absolutely not, but your hand reached out for his and gave him a gentle squeeze, grounding him once again.

"It's okay, go ahead," you told him. His eyes shifted between the two of you, completely at a loss. You gave him a warm smile, a real smile, and nodded encouragingly.

"Five minutes," he said, and he wasn't sure if he was talking to you or his ex, but it didn't matter.

Begrudgingly, he stood, dropping his napkin on his chair and shooting you one more glance before he followed Char out of the dining room and into the more brightly lit hallway that led to the hostess stand and front door. She turned to look at him, mouth opening and closing, struggling to find the right words.

"You look good, Joel," she said. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You too."

She chewed her lower lip and glanced around, and Joel could feel his patience already running thin.

"What do you want, Char?" he asked, wanting the question to come off angry but he just ended up sounding tired.

"I wanted to... I don't know. Apologize," she said, dragging her eyes back up to him. "I shouldn't have left you like that. It was wrong."

"Us," Joel corrected her, raising his eyebrows. "You left us."

"Yeah, of course," she said with a nod. "You know what I mean."

Joel bit his tongue and glanced down at his shoes, wishing nothing more than for this conversation to end so he could be with you again and forget this ever happened.

"You seem happy. Your girlfriend is pretty, how long have you been together?"

"Few months," he said, looking back up at Char once again. "I am happy. She makes me happy."

"Good. That's good..." she replied, trailing off and looking down at her hands. Splaying her fingers, she held them up, showing him her ring. "I'm married. That's my husband in there," she said, the word husband getting caught in her throat. "We're, uh... we're expecting," she added, dropping her hand to rest on her stomach. "Just found out a few weeks ago."

"Oh," Joel said, blinking in disbelief. "Congrats."

"Thanks," she said with a small smile. "How's work? How's Tommy?"

"How's-" he scoffed and rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, growing agitated. "How about how's Sarah? Your daughter?"

Char took a deep breath, falling silent.

"She's doin' great, by the way," Joel continued, his jaw clenching. "She's on the honor roll, got a real talent for the violin and she's already lookin' at colleges. She's kind and honest and smart-"

"Okay, Joel, message received," she replied, holding up her hands in defeat. "I'm not allowed to move on, but you are."

"She's your fuckin' kid, Char," Joel bit back. "You don't move on from your kid."

"That's not what I said, stop putting words in my mouth!"

"You didn't need to," he said, glancing down at her stomach briefly. "Do you ever even think 'bout her? On her birthday, does she cross your mind at all? Is your baby gonna know they got a sister?"

Char's eyes filled with tears as she looked away guiltily.

"Y'know, I think I'm done here," he said, his voice suddenly growing calmer. "Thank you," he said, catching her eye. "I'm glad we talked. Cleared up a lot of questions."

He turned away and headed back into the dining room, back to you. Back to the woman who, in only three months, had treated his daughter with more love than her own mother.

You saw him approaching your table and you straightened up in your seat, trying to read his face. He sat down and gave you a smile, then reached his arms across the table to take both your hands.

"Everything okay?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, everythin's great," he said, staring deep into your eyes, still smiling. You gave him a disbelieving look and he chuckled. "I mean it. That-" he nodded in the direction of the hallway, "nothin' to worry 'bout. Couldn't be happier," he said earnestly.

You examined him closely as a slow smile spread across your face.

"What? I swear," he said, grinning.

"I know," you replied. "Because that's your real smile."

"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?" you asked him as you stepped off the elevator. The two of you had stood your ground and stayed at the restaurant, ordering another bottle of wine and a dessert to share, each of you refusing to bring up the topic of Sarah's mom until now, when the alcohol was making your head swim and your lips loose.

"Mhm, I'm sure," he said, leaning against the doorframe, blinking a few times and trying to focus on opening the door. "Nothin' to say that I already didn't know. Besides," he pushed the door open and looked at you with a smirk, "I ended up with who I was meant to be with."

"Charmer," you teased, feeling your face flush as you walked into the room and flicked the light on. You had barely made it three steps into the room before his hands circled around you from behind, pulling you close against his chest. Dropping your purse on the nightstand, you leaned back into him with a sigh.

"Do you want to open your present now?"

You felt him smile against the back of your neck.

"Yes, please," he mumbled.

Butterflies swirled in your stomach as you stepped away. Turning around, you gave his chest a gentle shove and he instantly obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide, still wearing that black suit that made him look way too good. Your palms dragged up his chest and underneath his blazer, fingers curling around his broad shoulders and down his back so the jacket slid down in a pool around his waist. He watched you, hardly moving an inch, his breath coming quicker the longer he waited, loving and hating the anticipation.

"I really like this suit on you," you murmured, nipping at his earlobe while your hands made their way down. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, you tugged with both hands, pulling the material free from his pants. "But I think you deserve to be a little more comfortable."

He nodded, the wine and his insatiable need for you making him docile and quiet. He watched in a daze, barely blinking, as you turned around and slowly unzipped your dress, glancing once over your shoulder with a playful smirk. A very selfish and cruel thought popped into his clouded mind as he watched you, one his sober mind never would have allowed through. Why couldn't he have had Sarah with you, instead? You're so beautiful and perfect and sweet, you never would have abandoned them. You would have been a great mother. So patient and giving. Then another insane thought occurred to him as your dress began to slide down your body.

You still could be a great mother. And he could make that happen.

His lips parted, the words on the tip of his tongue, but fortunately the logical part of his brain took over: stop, too soon, don't say that, you're drunk.

He swallowed the words down, his mind losing focus on that random, sudden urge and fixating instead on the red, lacy lingerie you had hidden under your dress all evening. He let out a pained whimper when you turned around and he realized he could see right through the material, your perfect breasts and warm slit available for his gaze to devour.

He must have forgotten to speak, although the thoughts in his head were so loud, he could have sworn you'd be able to hear them. You looked at him shyly and shifted your weight from foot to foot.

"Do you like it?"

He dragged his eyes up to your face, his jaw slack and the hardness between his legs becoming incredibly uncomfortable. How could you possibly think he wouldn't like it?

"I love it," he said, voice low and heated. "I love you."

You grinned and stepped forward, standing between his legs, your fingers slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt while his hands roamed up and down the backs of your thighs, still hypnotized by the lingerie you bought just for him. Nobody else got to see this.

His hands drifted up to your hips, calloused palms dragging over the delicate material, his fingers slipping underneath the straps on the sides and giving them a playful snap. He dropped his hands so his shirt could join his blazer, then quickly found your soft skin once again. It was a miracle he remembered to breathe as his hands made their way up your stomach to cup your breasts. He marveled at the way you responded to him: breath hitching in your throat, thighs squeezing together, lower lip pulling between your teeth.

You gave him another gentle shove on the chest, and he fell backwards with a grunt, fingers itching to touch you but you were just out of reach as you began to undo his belt, then the zipper on his pants before tugging them down to his ankles. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing while you pulled his pants all the way off.

His eyes flew open in surprise when he felt your hot exhale over the fly of his boxers, warming his aching length, making him twitch. When you pulled his waistband down and took him in your perfect mouth, he groaned so loud he had to remind himself there were other people in the hotel. You smirked up at him, watching his jaw tense as he tried not to lose control, and the mere thought of him coming undone like that because of you made your knees weak. You loved that feeling. You recklessly chased that feeling, eager to see more, hear more, feel more to the point where his fingers had got tangled in your hair, gripping and pulling a little rougher than he meant to as he gasped your name.

"Slow down," he whispered, his voice strained. "Baby, please-"

You released him with a pop, watching with fascination and excitement as his sweaty chest rose up and down rapidly, his eyes screwed shut, deeply focused.

"Sorry," you said, your tone implying anything but. He finally opened his eyes to look at you, kneeling on the floor between his legs, hair a mess, lipstick smudged and he had to resist the urge to ask for another picture. "Scoot up," you told him, and he obediently dragged his body backwards so his legs no longer bent over the edge of the mattress. You slowly crawled on top of him, leaving chaste kisses along his thighs, then hips, stomach and chest until you found his lips.

You moaned softly when your clothed heat dragged over his stiff length, your hips taking on a mind of their own as you rocked back and forth slowly, reveling in the sensation. You lifted yourself off of him, your hands reaching down to pull down your underwear when he stopped you.

"Leave it on," he said huskily, then his finger tucked underneath the band as he slowly traced the edge of your panties, his smooth fingernail gliding along your skin until he reached the apex of your thighs. He hooked another finger underneath the soaked fabric and he pulled them to the side, then glanced up at you.

The heat and hunger behind his stare sent a bolt of excitement through you. Unable to hold back any longer, you reached down and notched him at your opening, then slowly sank down, mouth open and brows pinched as your body stretched to accommodate him, then letting out a quiet ah when you were finally fully seated.

"So pretty," he murmured repeatedly, his eyes raking all over your body as you began to roll your hips, somehow only noticing now for the first time the little roses embroidered on the lingerie. His fingers dug into your sides, guiding your movements as he stared down at where you were connected and he thought this is true happiness.

Your hands fell forward onto his chest, pressing down for leverage as you picked up the pace, your eyes squeezing shut and your breath coming in fast little pants. Your arms pushed your breasts together and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to put his mouth on you. He craned his neck upward, his mouth latching over a clothed nipple and you cried out when his teeth grazed against the sensitive nub a little too hard.

The lace felt soft against his tongue but was beginning to irritate the base of his cock as the material tried to shift back into place. He laid flat once again and in a heated moment without thinking, he dipped the index and middle fingers of both hands into your panties and gave them a forceful tug. You gasped and stalled your movements when you looked down and watched him pull the destroyed underwear from between you with a grunt.

"I'll buy you new ones," he said, his hands returning to your hips, urging you to continue. You giggled and picked up where you left off.

"No need, they were yours to do with what you wanted," you said, biting down on your lip when he gave you an animalistic groan.

His hips began to buck up into you, matching you thrust for thrust as you both began to lose yourselves in one another.

"Joel," you whined, trying to warn him, trying to tell him it feels too good, I love you too much, this weekend was too perfect, but all you could manage to do was chant his name. It didn't matter, though, because he knew. He was thinking the same things and he wondered if anyone else in history had ever loved and understood someone the way he does with you. Surely not, because how on earth would anything ever get done if everybody got to experience a love like this?

"Keep goin'," he muttered, his teeth clenching as he felt his stomach tighten. You bounced up and down faster, a thin sheen of sweat coating your chest, making you glow.

"Ohmygod, Joel, I'm close," you rasped, eyes boring into his. He nodded, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly and slamming you down over and over until you gasped then let out a low moan, your legs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up while you rode out your climax.

"Fuck!" he yelled, spilling himself inside you moments later. His hips thrusted upwards, pushing himself as deep as he could until he slowed, then came to a stop with a small whimper.

You collapsed tiredly onto his chest, the lace from your bra rubbing against his skin while his arms wrapped around your middle, holding you close.

"I got you," he mumbled into your hair, both of you panting for breath. After a moment, you pressed slow, languid kisses against his shoulder, trailing up his neck until you found his lips.

"Thank you for my present," he said, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. You giggled and, with shaky legs, pushed yourself off him and rolled to the side, clawing weakly at the sheets that housekeeping tucked in way too tightly until you could slip underneath. He stood up with a groan and disappeared into the bathroom, only to return a minute later with a damp washcloth and two bottles of water.

"Here," he said, holding one out to you. "We drank a lot of wine, you're gonna have a real bad headache if you don't drink some water."

You took it and he pulled the sheets back to clean you up. As you unscrewed the cap and watched him, you couldn't keep the smile from your face.

"Sarah was so lucky to have you, you know," you said, taking a sip of water, and he looked up at you in surprise. "Because you're so caring and patient. You always look out for everyone. You're so understanding and easy going, especially after everything you've gone through. That must have been so hard," you said, furrowing your brow while playing with one of his curls. "And you did such a great job, Joel. You're a really, really good dad."

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued to look at you, watching you play mindlessly with his hair, having no idea how impactful your words just were and how badly he needed to hear that.

"Thank you," he whispered, and you smiled.

"Let's go to sleep," you said, yawning through the last word, but he insisted you drink the rest of your water before he turned out the lights and snuck into bed behind you, pulling you close.

Even though you weren't Sarah's mom, you were in their lives now, and that's all that mattered.

"Hey, wake up," Joel was saying in your ear. You frowned, then winced as the inevitable hangover set in in the form of a monster headache.

"Ouch," you whispered, your throat gravelly with sleep. He chuckled and nudged a cold water bottle against your arm, making you shudder.

"Here, this'll help. I got some ibuprofen on your nightstand and breakfast is on the way up."

Cracking an eye open, you forced yourself to slowly sit up against the headboard and looked around the room. Your clothes were still scattered over the floor but it appeared Joel had tried to at least move them out of the way a bit. He was sitting next to you, still shirtless, hair a mess and looking a little under the weather himself, but when you asked if his head hurt, he denied it.

"What time is it?" you mumbled, searching around for your phone before you realized you had left it in your purse, which was next to the medicine you had yet to take.

"Ten," he said, tapping your arm to draw your focus off your purse and back onto him. "Move in with me."

"What?" you sputtered in shock.

"Move in with me," he repeated, a smile stretching across his face. "I want you to live with me and Sarah."

"B-but Joel, I just signed a lease to an apartment like, a month ago," you stammered, looking back down at your purse and fishing out your phone.

"How long's the lease?"

"Six months," you said, plugging your phone into the charger before turning back to him.

"Okay, so five more months?" he asked, and you nodded slowly. "Then you'll move in with us?"

"W-what- where is this coming from? We talked about this on New Years-"

"Yeah, I know, but I woke up today and looked over at you and realized I wanna be able to wake up next to you every day, not just sometimes," he said, scooting closer across the bed so he could hold your hand.

You thought about it for a moment, completely taken aback and your head still pounding. When you opened your mouth to answer, a knock at the door interrupted you.

"That's breakfast, hang on," he said, holding up one finger to you as he shrugged on a robe and greeted the waiter. You swallowed the two pills he left for you and chugged the water as you thought about your answer in the brief minute you had alone.

"So?" he urged when he came back into the bedroom carrying a tray of food and coffee. He seemed to anticipate your hangover because it was mostly toast and jams with some scrambled eggs for protein and a little bit of fruit.

"Did you talk about it with Sarah first?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you, his gaze softening for a quick moment before reaching out to cradle your face in his hands. He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, trying to express how much it meant to him that you thought of Sarah so often before he pulled away.

"Not yet, but I got a feelin' she'll love it," he said with a grin before he handed you a plate with some toast. "She wanted you to move in when we were in New York, remember?"

"Yeah, but you should still talk to her about it," you insisted, taking a tentative bite of toast.

"I will," he promised, watching you eat slowly for a moment. "So, is that a yes?"

You felt your heart flutter as you nodded your head, giggling when he excitedly lunged forward for another kiss.

Once your hangover wore off, the two of you explored the city for a few hours, then made sure to check out the hot tub in the hotel like Joel had wanted before heading home, all the while the two of you wearing matching smiles plastered across your faces.

Your real smiles.

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noellawrites · 1 year

Text

Isolation - Yandere!Rafael Barba x reader

requested by @detectivebarba

summary: After you are shot while on duty, Rafael manipulates both you and the SVU squad to get what he wants.

warnings: shooting, bullet wound, reader is hospitalized, angst, lying, manipulation

A single shot rang out, causing you to turn your head towards where the commotion was coming from. Your service weapon was drawn, but you didn't have time to shoot. The bullet hit you right below your chest.

You slammed into the ground with a groan. Pain ricocheted through your body, but you knew you were lucky. Your vest had caught the bullet.

"11-41, we got an officer down. I need a bus to Irving and East 17th ASAP," you heard Sonny call over his radio.

Liv was on the ground next to you in a flash. She had pulled your vest off and was examining the damage.

"It looks like the vest caught most of the damage. You're going to be fine, (y/n)," Liv assured you.

You watched from the ground as Amanda and Fin apprehended the shooter and wrangled him into the backseat of the squad car.

"P-please c-call Raf," you rasped, and Liv nodded. Your breathing sounded erratic and you were coughing and wincing in pain. Sonny turned around, bending down to the other side of you.

"I think you've got a punctured lung, (y/n)," Carisi explained.

Your eyes widened and tears threatened to spill from them. You couldn't speak, so you only shook your head vigorously.

Liv stood up and dialed Rafael's number. She wasn't looking forward to breaking the news to him, as he was extremely protective of you.

"The vest caught the bullet, but it looks like they have some broken ribs and they're having trouble breathing. I know, Rafa. We'll meet you at Mercy."

—

Everything became a blur once you were loaded into the ambulance. Liv rode with you while Sonny drove the squad car to Mercy. Fin and Amanda were booking the shooter and finishing the paperwork, but promised to come to visit as soon as they could.

A flustered Rafael was already sitting in your room once you were brought back from your emergency surgery. He stood up as soon as he saw the nurses wheeling your hospital bed back in.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, concern thick in his voice.

"Better, now that I can actually breathe. Hey, where is everyone else?" you asked, looking around your private room. There were already four vases of flowers, but no one else was there besides your boyfriend and the two nurses hooking up your IV bags.

"They'd only let one person in at a time, so I told them I was your husband. I'll go out and tell everyone that you're awake and out of surgery, though," Rafael promised.

He leaned over, kissing you on the forehead and smiling at you before he exited the room.

—

Rafael was stunned at just how many NYPD employees had showed up to support you. He walked into the lounge and guessed there had to be at least thirty people. There were lots of beat cops, mostly people he recognized as old friends and co-workers of yours.

He spotted Liv and Sonny standing in a corner with Chief Dodds and IAB Captain Tucker. Rafael approached them and took a deep breath.

"They're out of surgery and conscious. They don't want any visitors, though. Any idea why that son of a bitch would do this?" Rafael said, clenching his jaw in anger.

"Fin and Rollins are workin' on it, but we got nothin' so far," Sonny explained.

"No visitors? Any idea why?" Liv asked, narrowing her eyes.

"They said they didn't want to see any of you. I'm pretty sure they're planning on leaving the squad after this. I'm sorry."

" Well, give them these if you could, counselor. It's from all of us down at 1PP," Tucker explained, handing Rafael a bouquet.

"I will, thank you," Rafael nodded, taking the flowers.

"And these, my ma made an emergency cannoli batch when she heard," Sonny added, shoving a Tupperware container into Rafael's other hand.

Rafael couldn't wait to get back into your room, take your phone and block each and every one of them. He would take care of you and nurse you through your recovery without the squad to bother him.

He was quite proud of this plan he'd set into motion. He paid the shooter handsomely, as he would be serving a few years in prison. It was airtight, nothing could be tracked back to him. And now, you were all his.

—

You woke up from your nap and turned to your left side, where Rafael was sitting. He was texting something on his phone and hadn't noticed you'd woken up.

"Rafa?" you mumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"Hey, baby. You have a good nap?"

"Yeah. Did anyone come by to visit?" you asked. You wanted to see your friends more than anything.

"Just Tucker to drop off some flowers," your boyfriend explained.

You frowned, glancing out the window at the New York skyline. You got shot, broke two ribs and your lung collapsed, and your friends couldn't even bother to come see you in the hospital?

"I'll call Liv, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. Maybe they think I'm still in surgery or something," you said, grabbing your phone from the tray table beside you.

You clicked on Olivia's contact and tried to press the call button, but your call was immediately rejected.

"That's weird," you remarked, and tried again. Again, the call rejected.

You narrowed your eyes and tried Sonny's contact. Then Amanda. Then Fin. All rejected calls. You turned your phone off, tears welling up in your eyes. Why would they ice you out like this?

"I'm sorry (y/n), but they don't want to hear from you or see you. I tried to call them earlier and only Liv answered. She said you're off the squad. I'm really sorry," Rafael explained, standing up from his seat and moving to stand over your hospital bed. He wiped the tears from your eyes and looked at you with an expression of pity.

"Why would they do this?" you sobbed, covering your eyes with your hands.

"Once you get out of here, I'll move you into my apartment. I'll take care of you, okay? I promise," Rafael said, smiling at you and bending over to give you a hug. He would always protect you, and you would never have to know the truth.

#rafael barba x reader #law and order svu x reader #yandere rafael barba #yandere law and order svu #rafael barba #law and order svu #law and order svu imagine #svu x reader #barba x reader

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plushii-gutz · 5 months

Text

Part 4 MWAHAHAHAH- ahem. I've been asked why I don't just call these 'chapters' and tbh I have no idea. Just felt like it.

Also sorry this is short lol

☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆

Stars overtook the sky as day drifted to night once again. Galvana spent the afternoon with Sage, making sure that every critter at least had food for the upcoming winter. They came across a smunkin patch, which Sage explained would grow alongside the young celestial as they re-learn their old abilities. It wasn't her greatest idea, now realizing how close to death it would be. However, thanks to Galvana's usage of their new ability, it had almost grown to full maturity.

"How 'bout I show you how to move plants? We could place this closer to the castle so it doesn't freeze over. Oh! How about Blasoom's garden? Inside the greenhouse, even!"

"Whatever works best," Galvana shrugged. They weren't all too enthusiastic with the nightly task finishing up, but they assumed the rest of the Celestials were asleep by now. It would be another obstacle cleared.

The young monster watched closely as Sage removed the smunkin's roots from the forest floor with care, holding it within her hands as they began the walk back home. Galvana thanked her for teaching them how to restore life - to plants, that is. She was proud of them and offered to teach something new the next day.

"You're a quick learner, 'Vana. Ya got it right immediately! Maybe you an' Blasoom could keep th' garden alive together? I'm sure she would appreciate your help."

They kept their comments to themselves. "I'll think about it," they said.

"That's all I ask."

The two monsters walked around the castle and towards the back where the Celestial of Plant's garden resided. The many vegetables and fruits had since been picked and taken inside to be washed, and some of the smaller plants were moved into the greenhouse. Two statues made of earth and stone stood on either side of the entrance, carved to resemble the natural elemental symbols in crooked detail. Torrt, Hornacle, and Blasoom had worked on these a while ago. They fell apart often, typically after a couple of months, but these had held up well.

"I don't think I can fit in there," Sage kneeled down to Galvana's height, "so I'll need you to do this on your own. Just follow my words, yeah?"

Galvana nodded, almost falling over as the weight of the smunkin's fell into their arms. They listened to Sage's instructions, and as easily as it were removed, the crop was given a new, more sustainable home. They took a moment to look over every other good that had been grown - they didn't come in here often, and it was almost like walking into a strangers home uninvited. They were out of place in nowhere. What kind of logic was that?

Of the plants remaining, Scaratar's side of the greenhouse only held one. They seemed to be white berries, clumped together at the end of a red stem in a way one may expect flower buds to be. Each berry had a black dot, giving them the appearance of an eye - perhaps a doll's eye. Whatever fruit it was, it didn't look appetizing, more or less edible. Galvana took note of its appearance for later, finally leaving the awkward atmosphere. The plant wubbox hadn't moved from her spot, greeting her celestial once they sealed the door shut.

"You did good, 'Vana. Now, I think it's time we get some rest. How about tomorrow afternoon for our next meet-up?"

"Afternoon?" Galvana questioned. "Why the afternoon?"

"I just need a little time to myself. It's nothin' against you, I promise!"

Although the young celestial would have preferred a full day with newly taught abilities, they weren't surprised that another monster wanted space from them within a matter of a few hours. At least, that's what they have grown to believe. It was the case for everyone else - why wouldn't it be for Sage?

"Alright," they agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

There was an awkward stare between the two. It was like Sage could see something the other couldn't.

"Yeah.. tomorrow."

Galvana was slow to reenter the castle. What was that all about? Did they show the wrong expression? It wouldn't be anything new. They felt as if any emotion they displayed was wrong.

They chose not to think of it too much. It would linger, but it wasn't important. Right now, Galvana undressed the clunky jacket and boots that held against the outside and hid their staff within their closet. It emitted a light far brighter than it had been days previous. They may need to cover it better. Now more comfortable, they revealed the laptop they had taken from Plixie hours earlier, sitting it on their lap as they began their research over who - or what - the Celestials were. They came across the same website, reading over the summary once more. Now, Galvana could finish.

The eternal slumber that the Colossals had wished for hadn't lasted long. The continent began to split, separating into the many islands we reside on today and causing outer islands' whereabouts to be left unsolved. It is still unknown as to what caused the separation. Many believe the theory of tectonic plate motion. Some believe the Celestials entered an argument, leading to the separation and explaining the destruction of the outer lands, which are believed to have been collaborative.

After the continent had split, it was and remains unknown as to what happened to the celestials. Although many believe these divine monsters still linger within the stars, we have no evidence of Starhenge still existing. Many questions have been given to the Ethereals and Mythicals, and all have been left unanswered.

The summary ended with citations, leading Galvana to another article over the celestial's creations. Their attention fell onto the category over Wubboxes. That was their monster creation, was it not? They began to read, deciding to take a detour.

History-wise, there wasn't any new information that Galvana hadn't been told before by Sage. They were common Wubboxes left deep within the land before their bodies evolved to adapt and protect their designated Islands. As the celestial carried on past their history and biology, they began to realize just how powerful these robotic beings were. Their strength, agility, and elemental powers. It was as if they themselves were meant to be a God among monsters. Paragraph after Paragraph, Galvana admired their creation and every ability they displayed.

The admiration turned to envy.

They recalled earliers training. Sage had mentioned how Galvana's core wasn't nearly as powerful as it should have been because of the common Wubbox simply not giving them the energy they needed. The reasoning behind this could only be selfishness, could it not? Especially now. Before their eyes, the supernatural monster could see what it was capable of, yet they were left behind for no apparent reason. Why were they - these leftovers of the continents shattering - more powerful than the gods themselves?

The bottom of the page held images; photos, to be exact. Some old, some more recent, one of which caught Galvana's eyes. Blueprints, it seems. The original blueprints of the wubboxes. Mindlessly, the celestial downloaded the image. They'll continue on with their research later.

It was time to rest. At least, it should be. Galvana couldn't put the laptop aside. They couldn't disconnect from the pages upon pages of the information they had wanted for so long. No matter what the young monster tried, they spent the night with their mind filling with a trail of neverending questions.

☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆

Many weeks have passed since Attmoz and Glaishur had moved from the tall Plant Island castle into the small, cozy cabin they now called home. It was deep within the frozen woods of Cold Island, hidden amongst the snow and trees. Solar panels provided them electricity, though minimal, and they kept the fireplace active as often as they could. It was quite the chore to remain sustainable without the ability to interact with other monsters, especially now with Strombonin being primarily absent, but the two celestials had been well prepared. They never intended on staying with the rest forever - there was far much to see.

An axe rose to the sky, swiftly swinging down and splitting a small log in half. The process was repeated a few more times until Glaishur felt content with his work, carrying the wood under his arm with the axe over his shoulder. He made sure to take off his snow-covered boots before entering the cabin, not wanting to trail too much water onto the welcoming mat or wooden floors. Inside, he made sure the new fuel wasn't damp before tossing a few chunks into the open flame, enjoying the warmth against his hands and the soft crackling flames. Although Glaishur was accustomed to the snow, he didn't mind the homey feeling that he and Attmoz's cozy house held. It often seemed preferable.

He wondered if his partner had finished with his work yet. Attmoz had picked up a simple online job as an assistant for technical issues under a fake alias, pretending to be a common mammott. He was still considerably new, and because of such, most of the customers were redirected to higher-ups. As annoyed as he was, the air monster was at least a little appreciative to have a sort of income at all. It would be far too difficult to find something with higher pay that wouldn't include his identity being revealed.

"Attmoz's probably stressed out," Glaishur thought. "I should make somethin' for dinner. It's kinda late. What all do we have?"

A quick trip to the kitchen! Most of the food they had stored away were foraged from the woods. A thick, partially worn book over Cold Islands many edible plants, wild and domesticated, sat crooked on the table, an empty basket right on top of its cover. Glaishur took a stroll to the fridge, which was covered in notes of Furnoss's recipes, and scanned over the many products inside. Plenty of vegetables, plenty of herbs and spices, a little bit of broth.. perhaps a simple soup would be good - perfect to fight against the cold, too! Yes, it made sense and was relatively easy to make as well.

The cold monster took a step back to read over the many pages stuck to the refrigerators door. Furnoss had left a specific recipe for soup he made often when the younger of the bunch were sick, and it seemed quite appealing right now. Glaishur plucked the paper off the door once he found it, placing it on the counter as he crouched down to find a proper pot. When he opened the cupboard, though, he was met with.. baking sheets? He brushed hair from his eye and tilted his head, visibly confused. Wasn't this where the pots were kept? The area had been marked accordingly. What happened?

Glaishur looked through the cabinets, finding that most of their pots, pans, dishes, and the like had all been swapped from their original spots. Why would anyone do this? He only recently adapted to where everything had been located. It felt, and possibly was, far too difficult to find anything, even if the changes had been minimal.

Frustrated, he slowly began the process of removing and replacing every scattered item in the kitchen. It had only taken 30 minutes, but by the end, he was far too annoyed to consider making dinner anymore. He simply reheated leftovers from the previous night, wandering the cabin aimlessly while waiting for Attmoz to reappear. He wasn't able to sit down. Or, more accurately, he didn't feel as if he could. He had to keep moving. It was hard to explain, but his partner understood.

He grew impatient. Soon, Glaishur decided to check on Attmoz himself. The cloudy monster had finished with work only mere minutes ago, now residing in the bedroom to clean himself up after the long hours. He primarily tended to his fur, which had thickened significantly since his arrival to the cold environment. It became inconvenient at times, but he appreciated the extra warmth and admittedly the visuals as well. He wiped his face, combed through his hair, dabbled a little with eyeliner for fun. Scaratar had secretly sent some of her unopened makeup with the two as they left, and it seemed Attmoz enjoyed the extra bit of self-expression. As nice as the scene was, Glaishur had to interrupt.

"Hey, Moz?"

"Yeah, babe?" He responded, looking over his shoulder.

"Did- Uh, did ya move th' kitchen around?"

"Yeah, I didn't really like how everything felt. It's more convenient this way."

"Uh-huh. Um, I would have liked if ya.. game me a lil heads up or somethin'. I couldn't find anythin' in there and had t' move it all back."

Attmoz didn't seem all too concerned, simply shrugging it off as he finally sat his brush down. What he did wonder, though, was what they would be having for dinner. Glaishur sighed, following behind Attmoz to grab their meals and sit in the living room to eat.

Once the dishes were finished and cleaned, the two rested on the couch and calmly lingered in the moment. To Attmoz, the scene was perfect. The soft pattering of snow against the windows. The singing wind. The fire crackling and warming the room. His partner huddled to his side. It was lovely. Glaishur shifted uncomfortably. He knew this nightly routine was supposed to be charming, but he couldn't shake the words from his mind. They rolled through him like waves. He didn't want to ruin what they had set up, but he worried about what could come if he kept quiet.

"Attmoz?" He spoke up.

"What's up?"

"I don' wanna make you upset, but I'm not really.. happy.. with ya makin' decisions without me."

The two celestials shifted upwards, Glaishur wanting their eyes to meet

"I know you didn't do nothing t' hurt me, but I would have liked a heads up or even discussing it first."

"Glaish, all I did was move the dishes around. It really isn't that big of a deal. Besides, they've been moved back."

"I know, but.. you know I don't adapt t' change well."

"I do."

"It ain't a big deal, but it kinda annoyed me. When we moved out, we agreed that we'd sorta merge our living rules. Make it where we're both happy. One of th' rules was t' tell me before we change somethin' so I can get used to it better."

"Glaishur, honey, c'mon. You're making something out of nothing. I'll talk to you next time. I had a slip up, and I'm sorry."

This was odd, to say the least. Attmoz's sudden impatience felt more threatening than it likely was.

"Attmoz, I'm bein' se- actually, I feel like you ain't takin' me seriously at all."

"I am. It's just been a long day, and I'm sort of stressed out. I was hoping you'd be a little nicer."

"I'm not the one who fucked up the kitchen," Glaishur mummbled. He did feel bad, though. He didn't like feeling upset with Attmoz. Maybe he was making a scene. Maybe.

They moved from the couch to their bedroom, setting their alarms and finding a comfortable position to sleep. Silence overtook the space. Glaishur shifted uncomfortably.

"Attmoz?"

"What now?"

"I'm- I'm sorry for raisin' my voice earlier. I didn't mean t' make a big deal. I was just.. frustrated. And rude about it."

"Well, I probably should have been a little nicer, too. Should have told you first. That's my bad. I'm sorry. Can we drop the subject? I just want to sleep."

The cold monster nodded, rolling over. He couldn't help but worry Attmoz was lying to him - that he was still mad and wanted Glaishur to leave. He rarely questioned his partners words, but the anxiety was overwhelming.

"Attmoz?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're alright."

"I just feel like you're still mad at me."

"I just want to sleep, Glaishur."

"I know, but- but I don' want t' go to sleep with this kind of.. intensity on th' room."

Attmoz sat up, looking over the edge of the bed. Glaishur couldn't see his partners face, but he knew he was debating something. Soon, Attmoz jumped up, taking a spare blanket with him.

"Attmoz?" Glaishur called. "Attmoz!"

"Don't want to sleep with the intensity," he echoed. "Now, you won't have to."

The air Celestial left the room, closing the door behind him. It was the first time since they moved in that they slept in different rooms. Glaishur sunk into the blanket, pulling it over his eye as he began to hiccup. God, why was he so emotional? That's what started all of this to begin with. Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut?

The room felt colder than it ever had. It was too quiet. Too empty. Too much space. Glaishur didn't sleep that night. Attmoz couldn't, either.

#my singing monsters #fallen stars msm #msm #fallen stars au #msm au #msm oc #fanfiction

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quill-pen · 7 months

Note

any interesting facts abt gal? i’m hella curious about her :D

Which version? 😂 We have her Sea Beast version and her crossing-over-into-Scrooge-Sims version. I'm still kinda translating her into a "modern" context for Sims.

In both, she and Jacob Holland are friends with benefits who are secretly in love. But neither of them admits it to the other because they don't believe the other wants more. In the more modern context, Gal owns a little seafood centric cafe on the London riverfront and co-owns a pub right next door in the same building with Jacob. Still working on the names for the places--trying to decide what references would be better. (It's between 'The Red Bluster' and 'The Brickleback' for the pub and 'The Sea Feast' (because pun) or 'The Inevitable' for the cafe. OR their names could go together with the pub being called 'Rum' and the cafe 'Pepper' in reference to 'Rum Pepper Island' frequently mentioned in the film.) Whatever the names, the places are located on Dregmorr Street.

In the context of 'The Sea Beast' proper, while she's primarily a cook, she's a helluva hunter. She can wield a blade as well as her father and is typically with the archers during battles with beasts. She can outswim Jacob. She wishes to inherit the Inevitable and become Captain, but knows she won't as her father favors Jacob over her and Jacob is actually a leader and a better hunter overall. She tries not to let that disappoint her, but it does. It probably goes without saying, she and her father have a complicated relationship.

Gal can also play the concertina like nobody's business and has a voice that would make the sirens envious. She's very much a tomboy and can't stand dresses, skirts, or most anything very feminine, though she's fine with people who do like that stuff. Contrarily though, she loves pastel colors, and pink. She also doesn't shave or wax (in either film or Sims) and instead opts to just keep herself tidy and clean. But all her body hair is quite light and fine so it's really not a noticeable issue to others.

She's afraid of jellyfish, octopus, squids, and spiders (which are just hairy, land-based versions of octopus and squid) as "nothin' 'bout them be natural-like". As such, tentacles kind of give her the heebie-jeebies, but she can handle them on a beast, even though she will have nightmares after such a fight. Even sea anemones make her feel a little... squirmy if she thinks about them long enough. Oysters give her terrible heartburn, but she'll gladly scarf them anyway and resign herself to live on antacids the next day. She loves to watch the sun set on the water, especially when Jacob joins her.

@rom-e-o more Gal lore for ya.

#gal cutlass #m0nsterwife #ask me anything #the sea beast #sea beast oc

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clanofjones · 10 months

Text

Ghosts of Our Days - Chapter Eleven

Ao3

<- Previous

Next ->

Chapter Eleven: Two's a Company, Three is a Crime

TW: Homophobic language and semi-graphic descriptions of murder.

A/N: Co-written with @theosb0rnway :)

Casey Jones never took the day off, that was a fact set deep in stone. If evil never slept, then neither did she, but this was different.

He needed a day to process the idea that his boyfriend was not just a corpse in an icy coffin, but a being, a SPIRIT, that only Casey could see. He slept mostly, residing on top of the ice box while Raph watched her from afar, hesitant to make a move and not wanting to scare or piss off his lover. He didn't want to be double dead.

The next day was far more productive, and Casey seemed to be in a much better mood after his almost day-long rest. The duo sat at the little coffee table in the middle of the room, Casey writing down ideas for his next moves against Shredder while Raph played with his ghostly sais.

Who knew that whatever you had on your person also went with you to the next life? Raph didn't know much, or used to care much, about death, thinking he was some invincible force that even when battling Oroku Saki as Super Shredder could not be defeated, but now, here he was, thoroughly defeated.

He was dead, and he was spiritually attached to the prettiest lunatic on planet Earth whose only current goal was to kill Super Shredder, not something normal like taking a shower or eating a meal that wasn't packaged. It was an issue, sure, but then again, to Hamato Raphael, Casey Jones was the definition of putting the 'hot' in psychotic.

Said hot lunatic was actually being productive, scribbling some ideas down that Raphael surprisingly approved of.

Ways to get that bastard's attention:

Don't? Nah, that's no fun

Bomb the old mansion

Karai?

Take down Tiger Face

Fish Face

Wolf Dude

Beat the shit outta Hun!

There was a giant scribbled star by the last one, making it officially Casey's favorite choice, despite it loosely having to deal with Shredder. Off to the side, there were little drawings of Casey using various weapons to kill Shredder and his Foot goons, which Raphael tried to ignore as best he could. Then something else popped into the scheming vigilante's mind, a way to get not only Shredder's attention, but the entire city's. A way to make himself truly known. It was a... different idea, but Casey knew she had to throw it out there. For all he knew, Raph might actually like it.

"Hey, Raphie?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"...What 'bout goin' after a cop?"

"A cop?" Raph didn't seem angry, which was a good sign.

"Yeah! Get us actual attention from all the cameras and reporters and shit cause killin' the Foot ain't doin' nothin'."

"Wait, you wanna... kill a cop?" Casey looked at Raph like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was.

"Duh! Hurting one won't do anything!"

"Casey, I agree that it'll get us the attention we need, but if we do that, it's gonna get us attention from EVERYWHERE. We're gonna have to be way more careful about what we do and how we're see- how you're seen."

"So you're... not mad?" Is that really what Casey was focused on right now?

"'Course I'm not mad, Case! Cops are assholes-"

"Damn right!"

"But we also gotta focus on keeping you safe. I know you can pull off the job, but the hardest part is making sure whatever they send after you doesn't find you."

"I can handle it, Raphie. I hate you always rainin' on my parade, sayin' I can't do things like you can. Not like this is my first time dealing with pigs."

"I'm not 'raining on your parade', babe, I'm just scared you can't do this by yourself."

"Casey Jones wo-"

"I know, I know! 'Casey Jones works better alone', but you can't work at all if you're caught, or worse, killed!" Casey sighed, but from behind her mask, he looked like he was in thought, chewing at her bottom lip.

"Alright, I'll listen to you, just this once. So whaddya think I should do after I off the guy? Or lady? Or... what's a word for not a dude or a girl?"

Raph did a facepalm. "It's just a cop, Case, Jesus Christ."

"Yeah, you're right. But what should I do after I off the pig?"

"Lay low. Before you do it, we should go out one last time for food and supplies, stuff that'll last us at least a month or so."

"A month? Hope they got those dumb little number puzzles at the store cause I'm gonna need 'em."

"Sudokus, and yeah. Ya know ya' got me too, babe."

"I know, but now that I can't pin ya down, I've gotta find other ways to keep busy."

Raph swore he could hear Casey smirk and blushed a little, not that he could tell.

"I'm gonna need paint too, and I might... I'm gonna try to stop by my place, get clothes, money stash, firepower, all that."

"Alright."

"Raph?"

"Yeah?"

"...C-Can I let her see me? She's good at keepin' secrets, she doesn't know 'bout what we do, there's no way they could tie me to her if we're careful-"

"Yeah. Tell her Mr. Turtle says he loves her, okay?" "Course, baby. I know she loves you too, a lot. Oh god, she has no idea that you-"

Raph put a hand on Casey's shoulder and grimaced at her natural flinch. "Sorry. Look, don't tell her, it'll break her little heart and nobody wants that."

"I wasn't going to, I'm not gonna hurt my baby sis like that, she's everything I've got left! A-and I left her all alone with Arnold... oh FUCK ME!" Casey slammed her fist down on the table and Raph could hear her crying underneath the mask.

"It'll be okay, Case, I promise."

"Will it though?"

"If we get it done right, yeah. It'll be fuckin awesome."

"You promise?"

"I promise, dumbass."

"Thanks, Raphie boy."

"No problem, Casey baby." Raph put his arms around Casey, and even though she couldn't exactly do the same, he still tried his best. Casey broke the "hug" standing up slowly and stretching herself out.

"Ugh! That fuckin table's so low, it's more of a pain in my back than Donnie!" Raph snorted, standing up through the table.

"So where to, master planner?

"First thing's first!" She smiled through the mask, "I need the rest my gear." It seems Raph had more experience breaking into Casey's house than she did, knowing how to climb onto the ledge and unlock the window so they could slip inside. Casey's room hadn't changed one bit, if you don't count the smell being fifty times worse. Given that it was 1 am, Arnold was fast asleep on the couch, and poor Angel was in the room right next to Casey's, no doubt breathing in that godawful smell and wondering when her brother would come back.

Casey opened the door to the living room, sneaking quietly past Arnold and into Angel's room. He closed the door behind her, softly speed walking over to her little sister's bed. "Angel?" He ran a gloved hand through her hair and watched as the young girl opened her eyes. She seemed scared, and Casey realized it was because of the mask. "It's me, Ange, it's me!" He flipped the mask up to show off his real face for the first time in months. No paint, no skulls, no nothing, just Casey Jones.

"CA'EY!" Angel whisper-screamed, getting up and jumping into her brother's arms for a hug.

"Shhh! Gotta be quiet, lil sis! Don't want Dad to hear me, kay?" The girl nodded, a huge grin still stuck on her face.

"I miss you, Ca'ey! Miss you lot!"

"Me too, Angel, me too." He started to cry, Angel's grin dropping as she heard her sister start to sob.

"Why you cryin', Ca'ey? Don' be sad!"

"I'm not sad, I'm happy! I'm cryin' cause I love you, kiddo. I'm so sorry I left you here, I didn't want to, I didn't mean to, you don't deserve this!"

They stayed like that for another few minutes, hugging while Casey cried, before Angel asked, "Where you go, big bro? Can I come too?"

Casey shook his head. "No way. Casey had to go somewhere far away to keep you safe, and I gotta go back again until I'm done with my job."

"Wha' job, Ca'ey?"

"Somebody hurt me really bad and so I'm gonna hurt them really bad too. Remember how I taught you that? If somebody hurts you-"

"You hurt ‘em too!"

"Exactly! That's exactly right, baby sis!"

Angel giggled, smiling up at her big sister. "When you gonna come back?"

"Soon, Angie, soon. I promise. I'll be back as soon as I can be and then I'll never leave again! I pinky swear!"

"You pinky swear?"

"Always." They locked pinkies and bumped foreheads, making Casey's promise something he could no longer break, not that she ever intended to break it.

"Ca'ey? Where's Mista Turtle?" Casey's breath hitched and he quickly looked behind him to see Raph standing there, silently staring at him and nodding.

"He's... he's back at my safe place, he's doin' alright. Want me to say hi to him for ya?"

"Yeah! Mista Turtle gonna come back too, Ca'ey?"

"Of course he is! We're both gonna come back as soon as we can!" He hated lying to Angel about that, but it was the best he could do for now. He couldn't bear to ever tell her the truth, it was too much.

"He told me to tell you that he loves you VERY much and that he misses your stupid tea parties."

"They're not stupid!"

"Hey, tell that to him, not me! I love 'em!"

"Yay! And I love YOU Ca'ey!"

"Me too, lil sis." He paused. "Hey, Angel? You gotta promise me something now, alright?"

"What is it, Ca'ey?" She bounced up and down on her bed with excitement.

"If you see me on the TV, or hear about me from the bad people in blue, you CAN NOT tell them anything about me, okay baby sis?"

Angel nodded seriously. "Ca'ey in trouble?"

"Big BIG trouble."

"Uh oh! I keep Ca'ey safe from evil people! I help you, big bro!"

Casey smiled, a fresh wave of tears dripping down his face. "Thank you SO much, Angel, I love you, okay baby?"

"I love you too Ca'ey! So SO SO SO MUCH!"

"You go back to sleep now, okay?"

"Okay... Are you gonna sleep too, Ca'ey?"

"In a little bit, yeah. I gotta do a few things first, but then I'm gonna go back and get some sleep with Mr. Turtle!"

"Yay! Casey look sleepy, Casey need sleep!"

"I will, Ange, I will. Can you go back to sleep okay or you need me here for a bit?"

"Can Ca'ey stay?"

"Of course. I'll always stay for you, Angel Jones." He sat down next to the bed as Angel tucked herself into the covers.

"Love you, Ca'ey..."

"Love you too, Angel." It took Angel about three minutes to fall asleep with Casey rubbing her back. The vigilante stood up, slipped his mask back on, and walked back into his own room, Raph following quickly behind her.

"Ya gonna get some sleep now, Case?"

"No. Gotta do a few more things."

"You heard Angel-"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

He grabbed a giant plastic bag from the corner of the room and started cleaning everything out. All the rotting food was thrown out the window, the clothes and weapons stuffed into a bag, posters yanked off the walls and shoved in as well. By the time the bag was full, the room looked like it had barely been occupied.

"Let's go, Raphie. We got what we came for."

"Whatever you say, Case."

The duo made their separate jumps out the window and fled into the night. Now all they needed was just to get the rest of the supplies for the murder. Ah, Walmart.

The place where you can go at 2 am and nobody, nobody, notices you, no matter how out of the ordinary you look. At least, the security doesn't notice. If Casey got a few odd looks from some equally creepy old ladies, she sure didn't give a flying fuck about it.

As she picked out the biggest package of Sour Patch Kids he could find and put it in her basket, he noticed a little girl staring at him from behind her father's leg at the other end of the aisle.

He wondered why the hell a little girl was in Walmart at 2 am, but once again, it was none of his business. He smiled and gave her a little wave, watching her gasp and wave back.

"Casey, you don't need that."

"Bite me, Raphie." He muttered under her breath. He walked past the little girl and gave her a wink from under the mask, smiling as she heard her talking to her very disinterested father.

"Daddy! Daddy! The boy with the cool mask waved at me!"

"Uh huh. Whatever you say, sweetie."

Casey loved being herself. As she suspected, even with her blood covered clothes and dirtied skull mask, the dead eyed cashier didn't even seem to notice him. He'd just bought all the supplies for a molotov cocktail, homemade grenades, war paint, and some candy just for funsies and nobody cared!

Raph was right, stocking up on things before his next hit was totally paying off! Raph had been muttering to himself the whole time, Casey tuning him out as best she could. His negative attitude was totally burning a hole in his bad girl persona!

He forked over some of the money she stole from the Foot goons to the cashier, who gave him a dead-eyed stare and accepted the bills. Casey doubted she would have spared a second glance if Raph, in all his ghostiness, had been visible to others, not only a mutant turtle, but also a semi-transparent ghost. Then again, the lady did work in customer service at Walmart in New York, she figured not much would surprise this lady.

“Have a nice day– NIGHT! I meant night,” the cashier said, automatically course-correcting, eyes widening briefly as she blinked from the daze that must come with working such a long shift.

“You too,” Casey said as she accepted some bags and exited. A soft ‘whoosh’ of air hit his face as she stepped out of the sliding glass doors with as much vindication as one could when one stepped over a door threshold. Idly, he realized he should probably get her hands on a car. Or at least figure out some mode of transportation other than his own gear.

Shifting the bags into one hand as she walked into an alley, with Raph bobbing around her head, Casey fired his grappling hook.

It caught in a more stable part of the ladder, in contrast to the part of the ladder close to the ground, which was mangled and bent all out of shape.

Casey kept to the edge, so that he ascended in a vertical climb to her stomping grounds. She had to fire her grappling hook twice, the second time impaling deep the ceiling of the small room he and Raph resided in, only ascending again after three light tugs confirmed that the brick wasn’t about to cave, and send Casey to an early grave.

Any time before Oroku Saki’s grave was far too soon, she decided, spreading his newly bought wares on the floor. Investing in an actual table (or at least not a floor that was both freezing and almost definitely infested with any number of roaches and other bugs to make Raph die twice) wouldn’t be a bad idea either.

She dumped the bags down on the ground, grabbing the bag he'd taken from his home and setting it down next to the first one and sitting down on the ground next to the coffee table.

"C’mon Raphie! Don't be a stranger!" The turtle was hanging out towards the window, away from the short excuse for a table, slightly pissed that Casey had lied to Angel's face about getting a good night sleep.

He begrudgingly walked over, not wanting to deny his lover, almost there when his foot fell through the floor. He thought he'd fixed this already! The angry terrapin could hear Casey's cackle as he pulled his foot from the floor, a growl leaving his throat.

"Oh shut up." Casey stopped laughing for once, her face morphing into one of concern.

"You okay, Raph?" Uh oh. Not Raphie, just Raph. That meant he was serious, and serious Casey Jones could sometimes be a scarier creature than the angry, insane, or even pissed sides of Casey Jones.

"I'm fine, Case."

"Raph. I know you're lyin', knucklehead. What's going on?"

"Why'd you lie to Angel about sleeping?"

"I didn't!"

"Yeah, ya' clearly did!"

"No way, man! As soon as I kill a cop, I'm coming back here and we can sleep on the ice box together! The two of us! It's really comfy once ya get adjusted to it!" Raph shook his head.

At least Casey was serious about going to bed, that was a start. She still had a long way to go in terms of mental health, and if he was finally trying to get better, Raph wasn’t about to say no, even if it was sleeping on that godforsaken freezer box that his own fucking corpse was being kept in.

"Alright. I'll sleep on the fuckin’ death box." Casey glared.

"Don't call it that, asshole!"

"Hey, my body box, my choice." Casey looked confused for a moment before shrugging.

"I don't think the saying goes like that, but whatever, dude." Her face softened. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Raphie. I didn't mean it, I promise."

"It's alright, Casey, I get it. You like it cause it's me in there, and you have your own way of coping. I should respect that. I DO respect it."

"Thanks. That um... means a lot, babe." Raph could see a hint of an actual, genuinely sweet Casey Jones smile, taking the moment to sit down next to him, cup her cheeks, and kiss him softly what would be her lips under the mask. Casey gasped before pressing her lips to the inside of the mask.

God, did he miss kissing Raph the normal way, pinning him against a wall, making out slowly until both of them were left breathless. She was pulled out of her thoughts as Raph broke the kiss, setting a pair of pants haphazardly on her lap. "Here." He pulled out a Sharpie too, and the older boy was impressed at how well he could hold it.

"Woah! You weren't kidding when you said you could hold shit, babe! Holy macaroni, you're good!"

They shared a laugh, Casey getting to work on redecorating the old pair of ratty gray jeans. Recreating his clothing took about an hour and a half, two Sharpies, a pair of scissors, half a braincell shared between them both, and an old burner phone playing Casey's "Battle Songs for Fucking Up Bitches" playlist.

Putting on the newly acquired corpse paint took them another hour, Casey insisting on putting the white paint on herself first before Raph saw his face. By the end of it, his entire face, ears, neck, and forearms were covered in elaborate designs Raph took his sweet time making and touching up. Casey put on the first pair of redesigned jeans, slipping on a black long sleeved shirt before adding his Insane Clown Posse "Hatchetman" shirt on top of that.

Her gear followed, then Raph with the bandana, and finally, the turtle lowered the skull mask over his love's face, finally readying her for the best part of the night.

"You look beautiful, Casey Jones."

"Thanks, Raphael Tomato."

"Hamato."

"Tomato, Hamato!" They let out a giggle before Casey started towards the door, taking the regular way out the building for once. It was time to go out and take down one of the worst threats to society.

It wasn't hard for her to find a cop car just sitting around on some random street far enough away from the hideout that he wouldn't be chased back. Casey smirked to himself seeing the guy eating a donut through the side window. She pulled out his spray can, shaking it, letting the black paint attach itself to the wall, starting her latest masterpiece. That ugly bastard in his car didn't like that at ALL.

He made the show of flashing his lights before hurriedly getting out of his car, cuffs in hand.

"Hey kid! Drop the can and put your hands in the air! You're under arrest for vandalizing private property!"

Casey continued to spray the paint, humming some random tune as he went.

"Hey! Kid! Can you hear me? Kid!"

"Oh, I heard you alright. I just don't listen to people as low in this world as you." He laughed. "I don't listen to assholes as evil as you."

"Kid, the only one doing evil is you." He walked over to Casey and grabbed him by his freshly painted arm, causing Casey to flinch and whip around, hitting the cop dead in the face with the spray can.

"Fuck off, grease-hands! My boyfriend just worked for two hours on that shit and I ain't lettin' a no good pig ruin all his hard work!"

The cop stumbled back, blood falling from his nose and mouth. "Alright, ya little faggot," he pulled out the gun from his holster. "No more Mr. Nice Guy."

Casey ducked as the shots fired, pulling out her own gun and shooting the cop in the leg. Unlike him, she never missed his targets. The cop screamed, falling to the ground as Casey pulled out his hockey stick.

"Aw! Looks like Mr. Not So Nice Guy couldn't even beat up a fag like me! So sad!"

The hockey stick swung down once, twice, five times, ten, until the pig was officially down on the ground. Then Casey pulled out a knife, relishing the look of horror on the cop's face as she stepped on top of him, kneeling on his chest and taking off her mask.

"I'm not even gonna lie, this is gonna fuckin hurt! Well, this is what you get for trying to arrest a lady just for makin' his art!" The cop looked mildly confused, but that was replaced by a wave of horror as the knife pressed against his skin.

Casey gave him a false sense of security for two seconds before lifting it up and slashing his throat with one solid motion.

"Go to hell, fag-" The cop choked out, his eyes wide as Casey watched the life slowly leave him.

"How's it feel be killed by a fag? Cause it sounds pretty good to me!" As his head finally met the street, Casey could hear cheering from above him, seeing Raph on the rooftop and waving.

"Look, Raphie! I did it!" He sounded like a kindergartener showing off their latest art project to their mom.

"I know! I'm so proud of you, babe! Now hurry up with that paint, will ya?"

Casey didn't waste another second, spreading the dead man's blood all over his gloved fingers and using it as a paint of its own. She alternated between spray can and blood, finishing up in a few minutes before going back to the cop and wiping the smeared corpse paint off his right hand. Raph smiled from above, so glad Casey remembered his rule about leaving no trace.

Before she left, Casey went over to the car, opening it with his not bloody hand, and grabbed the half eaten donut from on top of the middle console. She climbed up the ladder to where Raph was waiting, gazing down upon her finished masterpiece.

"It's perfect!"

"Is that really one you're going with?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Alright, I just didn't know you were gonna do it."

"But you like it?"

“Of course I like it, Case, I love it! Let's get outta here." They spend the whole way home singing and laughing, Casey reminding himself to wash the blood off her glove so that no one could trace that lowlife's murder back to him. Oh, it really was a good night after all.

Turtles POV

The news was the only thing played on the TV anymore, much to Mikey's dismay, but Donnie controlled the living room now, so the TV was technically in his domain.

The team was all piled up on the benches, sitting down to watch the 10 o'clock news like it was the newest superhero movie, popcorn, pizza, and all.

"This is Channel 5 news, I'm Theresa Merdir. Breaking news, cop murdered on 5th and Walnut, killer leaves behind a disturbing message to all. Warning, this story contains images of gore and violence. Viewer discretion is advised."

The group all looked at each other with worried expressions, save for Mikey who was focused solely on the TV. He gasped as the images were shown, many of the dead cop's wounds, but then they flipped to another chilling sight. Written on the cop's face in his own blood was: ‘Look up’, and the camera did exactly that, showing Casey's boldest artwork yet. April let out a gasp of her own. "Oh my god, Donnie, is that-''

Donnie looked equally horrified, he could only nod and whisper "It is."

In a combination of cop's blood and spray paint was Casey's signature hockey mask next to tall, bold graffiti letters that read one single bone chilling word: "Skullshot."

#ghosts of our days #GoOD #tmnt 2012 #2012 raph #2012 casey jones #2012 rasey #2012 donnie #2012 april #2012 mikey #2012 apritello #fanfiction

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tinkabelle24 · 2 months

Text

Mixed Signals

Chapter 2: Fallout

A family emergency forces Raph to confront his feelings.

Universe: TMNT (2007)

Relationship/s: Raphael/OC Vall Scott

Tag/s: Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Awkward Flirting, Banter, Babysitting.

A/N: This story takes place prior to the events of Chapter 9 of my main story, To Build a Home.

TW! Blood and Gore (TV depiction).

Chapter 1

---

"Oh, God..." Val grimaced at the partially-devoured dead body lying in the centre of the screen.

Raph's smirk lingered over her as he slowly nibbled away at his popcorn. "Mmm, delicious!"

"Urgh! You're disgusting..."

The pair occupied either end of the three-seater couch; separated by a large bowl of overly salted popcorn, her bottle of water and his coke.

"Remind me again why ya watch these things?" The terrapin enquired, gesturing to the screen. They were following a disoriented Rick Grimes as he wandered through the abandoned hospital; bodies (soldier and civilian) and medical supplies strewn everywhere. "Gore is like, a given, in zombie media; and you can't stand it. Why torture yourself?"

Val covered her flushed cheeks with her palms. "I usually just skip the worst parts..."

"You're a weirdo," Raph chuckled, rolling his eyes as he returned his attention to the show.

A sudden commotion drew Rick's attention down an unexplored corridor; specifically, to a pair of swing doors at the end. As he warily approached, he found they had been chained shut. Several pairs of dirty hands reached through the tiny gap, accompanied by a collection of subdued moans. Lifting his gaze, he read the large, painted notice.

"Don't dead..." Val narrowed her eyes at the screen, confusion clear on her face. "Open... inside? What??"

Raph gawked at her. "You're joking... Val, please tell me you're joking..."

"What-"

"It literally says: Don't Open, Dead Inside," he exclaimed, struggling to contain his laughter. "Not: Don't Dead, Open Inside!" The terrapin's hands flew to his face as he threw his head back; heaving a long, muffled groan. "Ohhh, my God..."

"Oh, c'mon!" Val shoved him playfully, causing a few popcorn pieces to spill out of the bowl. "You can't possibly sit there and tell me it doesn't read like that!"

"No, it doesn't; cos, unlike you, apparently - I can read! How the heck did ya manage to get that from that??"

"Any normal person would go left to right - not down."

"Well, any normal person would look at that and go: Hmm, what makes more sense: the nonsense you just spewed, or the right way?"

"But that's not the right way, though!" Val laughed.

"You're forgettin' the cultures that read vertically," Raph countered smugly. "Like the Japanese-"

"Yeah, but this isn't Japan-" she snapped a finger at the screen. "They're in freakin'... what's it called? Georgia! Atlanta, Georgia!"

The terrapin shrugged, smirk deepening. "There could be Japanese in Georgia; you shouldn't just assume these things, Val-"

"Oh, my God, you're so annoying- stop!" Val buried her face in her hands; he'd made her blush - again.

Raph chuckled as he relaxed into his seat, revelling in her embarrassment. "You're never gonna live this down. Y'know that, right?"

"Yes, I'm well aware of your assholery..." The brunette groaned softly as she lifted her gaze. She couldn't resist - she needed that last laugh. "I'm still right, though-"

"No, ya ain't-"

"Yeah, I am-"

"Nope-"

"Yep-"

"Nuh-uh-"

"Ya-huh-"

Raph gave her a look. "Val..."

"Raph..." She teased.

The terrapin's stomach somersaulted when Val unexpectedly scooted over, brushing her knee against his once she finally relaxed. With a shit-eating grin, she proceeded nudging his plastron, over and over. "I'm right, Raph; you know I am. Say it... Say it, Raph... Say it, Raphie boy-"

"Alright, alright - yes!" He laughed, lunging forward to pin her arm to her side. She attacked with her other hand. "Ah-ah! No, ya don't!" He snatched that wrist, tugging it against him. "I've yielded; that means you stop! Have I taught you nothin'?"

Val scoffed as she yanked herself from his grip. "Don't you remember pawning me off to April, slackass?"

The brunette winced the moment those words left her mouth. Why the fuck would you say that?!

She caught a flicker of hurt in Raph's eyes, before a strained smirk promptly took its place. "Aw, come now, don't be like that... The last time I had ya on the mat, you heel-palmed my jaw so hard, I chipped a tooth. I'm just lookin' out for the rest of my teeth."

"Again, I'm sorry..." Val wracked her brain for a way to tactfully inject her thoughts. "I think there may be something else at play here... It's been weeks since I've seen you smile; like, actually smile, and laugh... Things haven't felt the same between us, since-"

"I'm fine, Val." Raph shook his head. "Despite my bruised ego, I'm perfectly fine; you're fine - we're fine."

"...I'm not."

At that, the terrapin averted his gaze. Please, don't say it. Please, please, please, don't say it...

"I miss you..."

He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling shakily through clenched teeth.

"Ever since that day, you've been distant with me..." As Val counted each example on her fingers, she attempted catching his gaze. He avoided hers. "No more dinners or movies at mine... No more shit-talk... No more late-night calls or texts - just generic shit... No more GIFs-"

Raph snapped toward her. "GIFs??" He snorted derisively. "That's what you're upset about??"

Val jerked back, as though he'd struck her. The terrapin froze, breath escaping him as they stared at one another. Once the shock finally wore off, he caught tears brimming those big, beautiful eyes.

He'd made her cry.

"I'm pouring my heart out to you, and that's what you take from it?!" She scoffed tearfully, shaking her head. "...You're an asshole."

With that, Val rose from her seat; a panicked Raph reached for her.

"Don't." He'll never forget her face as she wrenched her hand away. She looked ready to explode; he hoped she would - he deserved it.

"I want my friend back..." Her lips trembled as tears finally spilled down her cheeks.

His heart screamed for him to move; to take her into his arms and tell her precisely how much she meant to him, then finally taste the lips he's dreamt of kissing for months...

His body, unfortunately, refused to budge.

The front door lock abruptly clicked, causing the pair to flinch. Whipping toward it, they found April quietly creeping inside, with a bloodied Casey following close behind.

"What the hell happened to you??" Raph grimaced at Casey's battered mouth, then the plastic bag of soiled tissues he gripped.

His best friend gave a cotton-ball filled grin as he attempted to speak. "I... urgh, fu-"

"He skated head first into the glass..." April answered for him; catching Val wiping her cheeks as the latter approached the table to retrieve her belongings.

"You okay?" The redhead mouthed to her; Raph, struggling to focus on his own conversation, found himself eavesdropping.

He couldn't hear, or see (Val's back was toward him) what was being said, but there was a lot of nodding and face touching on the brunette's part.

Then, she turned for the door.

"I'll see you next time," Val nodded to Casey, clearly avoiding Raph's gaze.

Casey's eyes darted between the pair, quirking a disconcerted brow. "Wha tha heck's goin' on??"

"Nothing." Val side-eyed the terrapin as she continued forward. "It's okay. Enjoy the rest of your night."

Raph stepped toward her. "Val-"

April held up a hand, halting him. He pleaded her with his eyes, but she shook her head apologetically.

He watched helplessly as Val left.

---

@android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @miss-andromeda

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #oc val scott #tmnt 2007 #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph x oc #raph x oc #to build a home #tmnt oc #tmnt 07 #mixed signals #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfic #tmnt casey jones #tmnt april

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strawberryspotsstuff · 2 years

Note

GAH DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HI HENRY ANON BACK FOR HIS DAILY REQUESTS TO KEEP YOU ENTERTAINED AND ME,,ENTERTAINED ASWELL,,,,,, ANYWA YS CAN U WRITE HENRY WITH AN INSECURE TRANS MALE READER FALLS ON KNEES AN D GRIPS CARPET OKAT BYE

well hello hello hellooo!!!!

of course I can!!!!! ;)

henry x insecure! maletrans! reader

"sunflower?" Henry's sweet voice interrupted your grey-clouded thoughts.

You hummed sadly, watching yourself in their mirror. "yes?"

He frowned softly resting his hands on your hip, resting his chin on your slouched shoulder. The morning sun trickled into your room from the opened curtains, giving your room a soft glow to it. The sweet calls and songs from birds, waking up the neighbourhood.

"what's clouding your thoughts my king?" he joked, smiling.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head, rubbing your chin feeling the prickly face fur that started to grow. "it's nothin' just some comments from my co-workers again"

"Linda again?" Henry growled in question, hugging you tighter.

"yeah," you sighed, shuffling your feet in place. "it's nothing really, just her rude comments, like always." you explained, not wanting to talk about it further.

Henry nodded, understanding your boundaries. "well, if she keeps callin' you a "she" again, I'll stick her head through the floorboards" henry purred, giving a toothy grin.

You rolled your eyes, laughing, pushing his face away. "oh please, you would kill her!" you laughed.

"that's the plan!" he shouted back, ruffling your head. Both of you shared a good laugh, before going quiet, looking into each other's eyes.

"really, you don't mind?" you asked softly.

He smiled, titling his head as he watched your flickering gaze. His glossed over eyes stared deep into your soul as he lifted his hand and rested it on your cheek.

"of course I don't mind, you are my king, and I'm yours, you will always be male, you always were." Henry whispered, kissing your cheek.

you sobbed happily, kissing his palm as you leaned into it. "oh stop it, you got me crying" you whispered happily.

He rolled his eyes, embracing you into a tight hug and both of you collapsed onto the queen-sized bed next to you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

just some short fluff! hopefully this was okay :')

#strawberrycow writes #dsaf henry x reader #transmale!reader #insecure at the start but i wanted to end with fluff #:')

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tsuki-sennin · 10 months

Text

Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre, Senor, senors car avec les soldats Oui, les Toreros, peuvent s'entendre; Pour plaisirs, pour plaisirs, Ils ont les combats! Le cirque est plein, c'est jour de fete! Le cirque est plein du haut en bas; Les spectateurs, perdant la tete, Les spectateurs s'interpellent a grand fracas! Apostrophes, cris et tapage Pousses jusques a la fureur! Car c'est la fete du courage! C'est la fete des gens de co Allons! en garde! Allons! Allons! ah!

Today, a bull rages through the China shop that is our collective hearts and minds. Kamen Rider Buffa stands alone against the wicked witch Beroba. Two cows enter, one cow leaves. Best moooooooove it to your seats if you wanna catch the action this week. Haha~! Ohhhhhh, I'm sorry.

Spoilers, I guess...

-Geats is bleached like he's the Man of the Beginning. Throw him in the wash with a red sock and he'll turn pink!

-Good morning, Tsumuri-neechan!

-The God of Creation.

-Chained to the game, like his mother before him.

-Yeah you're gettin' it now, Keiwa.

-The squad're all posing together <3333

-Well! We did it!

-...huh, the Gang Riders were still a thing? I think I legitimately forgot about them being in last episode.

-"BOOOOOOOOOOO! THIS GAME SUCKS!"

-Did Jitto just call them "vips"?

-"Whatever, I've got a better idea."

-This must be our Azu for the season.

-Kuromuri, I'll call her for now.

-Or as the transliteration may call her, "Kromer".

-Goddess of Destruction.

-"This will be the greatest fucking moment of reality TV of all time. The Desire Grand Prix's Bad End Game!"

-"Rise, my son. We must battle."

-Oh hey there, Daichi.

-Yeah, you did that.

-"Man Daichi-kun, this was peak character writing right here~! I really liked how you made Keiwa-kun shit himself in anger by saying her memories amounted to nothing, that was sick."

-"Get lost! This is my tree!"

-Y'know I just realized that the people who watch the DGP don't really want anything substantial out of it. Niram-P wanted to make cool superhero stories out of real people, Archimedel wanted to make his children grow up big and strong, Daichi wanted to use, even the DGP executives have actual goals in mind (those obviously being profit and subjugation).

-Beroba, Kekera, everybody who ever sunk all their free time into this farce, they're all just doing it because they're bored. Is the future really that sad and miserable that banging hot alien chicks and curbing robot uprisings doesn't excite these yuppies?

-OH

-Daichi's dead!

-Oh, never mind.

-Thanks?

-Ohhhh!

-That's our Buffa! Keeping up despite the vast power difference.

-Awkward silence.

-Berdly's got nothin' for you, Michinaga.

-"A world-ending tree. Like Exdeath, or the Saigyou Ayakashi!"

-"Get the tree back, and I'll save her."

-They bought the Battle Pass.

-"Tycoon's my problem. Right now, this guy's yours."

-All that weight must be crashing down upon our boy Michinaga.

-"Tycoon, my son. Please, help shoulder that burden."

-Whose faith in man endures despite their sins...

-"Hey, at least we're actually doing shit, y'know?"

-"Hi, Micchi~! My oshi~! Guess who's gonna write fanfics about you getting your organs surgically removed while you're still conscious~?

-"Laser Raise Riser~!"

-Ohhhhhh! There she is. Breaking Mammoth Rosé.

-...God, I can only imagine what sort of horrifying scenarios Beroba'd inflict on a Buffa figure.

-Berobaba.

-Oh, the gun scales with Beroba. That's something I haven't noticed before. Though uh, I guess I couldn't have, but-

-Let's goooooo! Fuck 'em up, Michinaga!

-Zombie Strike!

-OH

-OKAY

-Buffa's Jyamashin powers just kicked in.

-I'm afraid you've lost, Beroba-san.

-Beroba, one of what seems to be endless sadists who indulged the DGP for so long, lies dying on the ground.

-Ayaka-san, you are a fantastic actress.

-Kazuto-san too, this scene is legitimately fantastic considering it came just after an angry construction worker just went Super Saiyan against a giant pink robot.

-Deleted Beroba.

-"For now on, Buffa's a Rider of Hope."

-"Oh, an old fossil?"

-Kekera Set!

-Keiwa with the save!

-"My ribs are poking into my kidneys and I think my arm is completely shattered. I'm sorry, Tycoon..."

-"Keiwaaaaa... that's not what I told you to be, Tycoon!"

-PLEB

-"Alright, stop yelling. Here's the serum."

-Sara-neesan is alive!

-"Keiwa, my spleen. I still need that..."

-Godhood is a curse, it seems.

-Ohhhhhh, that's a Game Master form.

-That's no doubt Jitto's. I wonder what kinda name he's saddled with?

-Alright, tune in next time~!

#kamen rider #geats #kr geats #geats spoilers #kamen rider geats #the world's next round: trick shot of desire for the grand victory

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hotchscvm · 3 years

Text

side to side

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: In which you're performing your hit single in front of your fellow Avengers cast-mates and Chris can't seem to take his eyes off of you, catching the attention of a few cameras.

"I'm here with the biggest pop-star of this generation, and she plays the very talented daughter of Tony Stark," the interviewer announced your name, smiling brightly at you as the camera panned your way. The hundreds of thousands of fans at home screaming when your face appeared. "How do you feel with all your nominations tonight?"

You smiled at the camera, giving a small wave at the people watching at home. "Honestly, I'm just glad I was even considered for these nominations. I mean, my girls Taylor, and Billie...they're amazing and I'm so happy to be put in the same category as them."

The lady grinned at you, her eyes twinkling. Or maybe it was her sparkly dress, the fabric nearly blinding you with how it shined under the lights. "If you ask me, you've got a pretty good chance at winning. I mean, your hit single—Side to Side—surpassed, like, a billion views in just a month? That's impressive."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without my fans." you replied, winking at the camera.

It was that time of the year again, where every artist, actor, and YouTuber hit the stage for the People's Choice Awards. With your crazy schedule, and the lack of sleep, you had planned to skip the award show until your friend, and co-star, Chris Evans—Captain America himself—convinced you otherwise. Even with the categories you've been nominated for had been more than a handful, but it was the begging and constant complaining from Chris that made you get off your tired ass and put it into a tight dress.

Your hit single, Side to Side, had everyone anticipated for your performance, unsure if you would be performing until the producers had put your name into the advertisement, making fans blow up Twitter. You were sure they had advertised your own song, along with your movie nominations, more than you ever had.

With nominations of Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Action Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Female Movie Star of the Year (Amara Stark), Female Artist of the Year, Song of the Year (Side to Side), Music Video of the Year (Into You), Beauty Influencer of the Year, and Social Celebrity of the Year, you had your hands full, which had only made your manager glow with happiness.

"Of course!" the interviewer agreed, glancing at the teleprompter filled with tiny words. "It was rumored that you wouldn't be coming, and a lot of us were upset, including me. Was that just a rumor or..."

"Actually, it's not that far off. I'm fucking—oh, shit—oh no!" you gasped, covering your mouth before anymore foul words could come out on live television. Instead of correcting you, the lady laughed, patting your arm softly. "Can't say that on tv. My bad. I, uh, with everything going on, I've been really tired, and I haven't slept in a week. I just wanted to chill, and accept my nominations at home but someone convinced me to come. So, if I say or do anything ridiculous tonight, I'm blaming him and my lack of sleep."

She nodded, clapping slowly. "I think that's fair. Is that someone, your onscreen father, RDJ?"

"He was one of the many people who unsuccessfully changed my mind, but no, it was Chris Evans. He promised me a day with his adorable dog, Dodger, and I couldn't refuse." you said, grinning at how his face had changed from hopeless to cocky as soon as he brought up Dodger.

"If I'm remembering this correctly, Chris Evans is that very handsome man you had kissed in your music video earlier this year. Into You, right? How do you feel kissing one of your co-stars outside of the movies your working on?"

"Technically, it was still acting, and I have kissed him before, so it wasn't awkward at all." you answered, glad Chris had accepted the role. Not only had it sky-rocketed the views and streams, but it made you feel better that it was his lips you were kissing and not a random model's. Yet, it didn't feel as professional as it had before when you pulled away after a take.

In scenes where you had to kiss the Boston actor, it was as professional as kicking Anthony Mackie's ass in Civil War but the kisses you shared on the set of the music video was definitely more personal. At the time, you had brushed it off as Chris being recently single, but now that you had broken up with Henry, you started questioning it again.

The interviewer nodded, squinting once more to read the words off the teleprompter before asking you another question that would certainly make the headlines. "I've been reading up on all those juicy tabloids and I've got one question that would satisfy my curiosity. Was Into You written about Henry Cavill or Tom Ellis?"

Usually, that type of question made you change the subject or altogether avoid the matter but this time, you wanted to joke about your failed engagement. "Henry, but Side to Side was written about Tom since I wanted more Grammy's considering the last album I put out won me a few. But this time, I'm gonna do it without an engagement."

The woman faked a laugh, surprised by the blunt honesty of your answer. "Um, you certainly do have a thing for British men, eh? I don't want to keep you up, but one more thing, for the fans. They've been dying to know if there's anything going on between you and Chris Evans. Any tea you wanna spill?"

"There's none to spill. We're just friends but it's always amusing scrolling through Twitter to find these edits of us." you replied, fidgeting slightly with the hem of your dress. Like usual, you had wondered if you should've worn something less extra but you had let your stylist play dress up with you for the past few months.

"Of course. Well, good luck to you, and I can't wait to see your performance." she said, giving you a little pat on the shoulders before announcing your name once again.

You got off the little platform, immediately taking Chris' awaiting hand, holding onto it as you climbed down the steps in your dangerous stilettos. Sighing, you leaned on him, trying to avoid the blinding camera flashes. "That was more exhausting than I thought it would be. You need to get me some caffeine after this is over because there's no way I'm making it to the after show without at least a few cans of Red Bull."

"So dramatic." Chris grinned, childishly sticking his tongue out as he guided you down the red carpet, stopping when told to take a picture. He let go of your hand, only to wrap it around your waist as you posed for the pictures. "Are you going to the after party?"

Posing seriously for a few seconds, you let your smile back on your face, facing the man beside you. "I was thinking about it, take a few photos, and head back home. Aren't you?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could ditch it and just hang out. You know, I did promise you some time with Dodger and you could waste a couple hours sleeping." he replied, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. Flashing you a shit-eating smirk, he nudged you a little, pulling you away from the blinding flashes. "What do you say?"

You opened your mouth to answer only to be cut off by your manager, Alexandre coming out of nowhere to rip you away from Chris' arms. The latin man sighed in annoyance, glancing at his watch while giving you the look you've seen too many times before. "You're supposed to be in wardrobe right now. Get your ass backstage, and change before you miss your own performance. As for you, Mr. Evans, Megan wants your ass in a chair."

"I'll see you after." you say, getting dragged by your manager, winking at the actor before walking towards the changing area, the cameras following you until they couldn't enter the area.

Getting ready before a huge performance always calmed you down, maybe it was the smell of makeup or the feel of designer clothing made especially for you, but something about it made you feel comfortable and cozy. It was like a routine, especially with all the music videos and movies you had to film, the makeup, the hair.

They made you sit back, giving you your phone like a child while they made you even more sparkly than before, making sure you'd stand out against the flashing lights during the performance. A performance you made sure no one would ever forget. Smiling, you let your thoughts drift back to a certain super soldier as you were pampered.

—

"Welcome to the People's Choice Awards!"

The room darkened, the blue and pinks lights focusing on the stage as cameras all turned towards your shadow. Making sure your mic was set properly, tried to see past the darkness, to see a familiar face or two but with the headache coming on from the tight half-ponytail didn't help your case. The music started, the beat vibrating, you flipped your hair, and started.

"I've been there all night

I've been there all day (Nicki Minaj)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Let then hoes know)"

You rode the bike, belting out in your microphone, the attached headset limiting your movements a little. Gripping the handles, you made eye contact at the camera to your left, winking at it as you pedaled.

"I'm talkin' to ya

See you standing over there with your body

Feeling like I wanna rock with your body

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'

I'm comin' at ya

'Cause I know you got a bad reputation

Doesn't matter, 'cause you give me temptation

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'"

As you had sung, your eyes had adjusted to the bright spotlight focused on you, seeing a shadow of the one person you wanted to make you walk side to side. While you had answered the reporter's question, you hadn't been completely honest. Some of the lyrics had been written for the Bostonian; or to be more exact, your sex fantasies. With the chorus coming up, you let go of the handles, trying not to fall on your ass as you clapped your hands above your head, the claps matching the beat.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I..."

Trying to be bold, you stared at him, his face in particular. The spotlight had blinded you so much that you couldn't see what his reaction was—or anyone's for that matter—but maybe it was a good thing. After all, his gaze always made you blush no matter how hard you tried not to. Pedaling faster, you threw your head back, hoping the motion would draw everyone's—Chris'—eyes on your chest.

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

With the help of a shirtless dancer, you got off your bike, taking the sheer jacket from him, and putting it on as you walked towards the front of the stage, moving your hips in to the beat of the song. Resting a hand on a shirtless dancer, you positioned yourself so you were grinding your ass against his crotch, throwing back an arm around his neck.

"Been tryna hide it

Baby, what's it gonna hurt if they don't know?

Makin' everybody think that we solo

Just as long as you know you got me

And boy, I got ya

'Cause tonight I'm making deal with the devil

And I know it's gonna get me in trouble

Just as long as you know you got me"

Sashaying to the little balance beam at the front of the stage, you made sure your hips swayed more than usual.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

A few seconds after your note ended, you strike a pose on the balance beam, posing for a few more seconds while the cameras turned their attention away from you and onto the queen of rap herself: Nicki Minaj. The leather, pink bodysuit was identical to yours except for the color, her attitude fitting the badass outfit. She began to walk towards the stage, never breaking eye contact with the camera in front of her while the men pretending to work out to the choreo.

"Uh, yeah

This the new style with the fresh type of flow

Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle

Come through yo, get you this type of blow

If you want a ménage, I got a tricycle

All these bitches' flows is my mini-me

Body smoking, so they call me Young Nicki Chimney

Rappers in they feelings 'cause they feelin' me

Uh, I-I give zero fucks and I got zero chill in me

Kissing me, copped the blue box that say Tiffany

Curry with the shot, just tell 'em to call me Stephanie

Gun pop, then I make my gum pop

I'm the queen of rap"

By the time she had finished her verse, you had caught up with the multitasking of both working out and singing, able to use your full singing capabilities for your high note. Nicki joined you on stage, hyping up the crowd while you built up for the high note, almost every camera pointed at you except for the one focused on capturing the headline-worthy expression slapped on Chris' face.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give em up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all night, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)

I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all day, baby) (Ooh, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)"

Both you and Nicki motioned for the dancers to come towards you, curling your index finger at the sexy men. Singing the refrain, you both made them drop to their knees in front of you, as if they were kneeling at your command.

Just as the last note was sung, everyone clapped, the majority standing up, and more cheered. You noticed Chris hadn't done either, still sitting in his motionless while two camera men pointed their cameras at him. Your eyebrows furrowed, thankfully after the spotlight had shifted over to the miniature stage where the two hosts were babbling about nominations.

You were ushered off the stage along with the queen of rap herself, taking a few backstage photos before quickly returning back to your dressing room to change into your tailored dress. Your mind had wandered to why Chris hadn't applauded—not that he was obliged too, but a little something would've nice, especially with all the days put into the performance.

Taking a deep breath, you entered the big room, filled with your co-stars and other A-list celebrities. Little did you know you'd find out the reason to your question in the morning.

—

The loud ringtone woke you up, the sound obnoxious and borderline abuse to your ears. Beside you, Chris groaned, rolling onto his stomach, trying to muffle the sound of the call with his arm draped over his head. Putting him out his misery, you lazily reached for your phone, pressing the green button with dread, seeing the name across the screen.

"Hello—"

"You're trending on Twitter." Alexandre announced, happy with the results of the previous awards show. While it wasn't something as big as a Grammy or Oscar, judging by the amount of awards you had taken home, you became the people's favorite. "Hold on, lemme rephrase that. You and Chris are trending. Number one, world wide."

Glancing at the man sleeping beside you, you sat up, confused by the information given to you. You blamed Chris for making you stay up so late for your confusion. "Um, why? Did I accidentally have another nip slip?"

"What the hell?" Chris mumbled, rolling onto his back, his arm grazing your bare stomach. He immediately took it back, sitting up to look over your puzzled face. "What's going on?"

You shrugged, putting your phone on speaker so Alexandre could explain. Your manager chuckled, knowing you had stayed the night with Chris. He was just waiting for the day you'd finally have the guts to speak about the growing sexual tension. "Okay, Alex, explain."

"As much as I would love to go into full detail, I have other stuff to do so, I'm going to give you the basics. Chris' reaction to your performance went viral, people are shipping the both of you, and there's been thousands of memes made." Alexandre replied, a smile evident in his voice. "Anyways, I have to go. Got some interviews to schedule. Have fun getting your way out of this, Chris."

Your phone screen went back to the home screen, a picture of your family dog, Buster, smiling widely. Looking at Chris, you saw his eyes widened, his hands coming to rest of his face in embarrassment as he fell back onto the bed with a bounce, his head nearly hitting the headboard. "Oh, fuck."

"Are you going to show me what your face looked like or do I have to scroll through Twitter until I find it? Oh! Maybe they edited it in my performance." you thought out load, tapping on the YouTube app. You hadn't trusted yourself enough to log into your official account, knowing you'd probably make a mistake so you opted for having a secondary account where you could watch cat videos without the anxiety of posting something stupid.

Chris' hand snatched your phone away, tucking it in his pocket, the sweats he had slept in was somehow wrinkled, and his shirt damp from the warmth. "You wanna get some food? I'll cook some bacon but you'll have to make the pancakes 'cause the last time—"

"I wanna see your reaction." you whined, reaching across his stomach for your phone. Chris turned his body away from you, shielding the phone from your reach. "Chris!"

He waved your attempt away, rolling off the bed, his feet hitting the floor before you could fall back on the mattress.You poured, getting on all fours, crawling towards the edge. Chris took a step back, brows furrowing. "It's not important. Let's get you some food."

"Fine." you mumbled, an idea making you light up. Rolling off the bed, you glanced at his phone on the nightstand, exposed and easy to take. With quick reflexes, you grabbed his phone, rolling back on the bed until you reached the other side, making it impossible for him to reach for his phone back.

"Hey!" the Bostonian shouted, launching himself on the bed in attempt to get his phone back. He made a noise as you rushed out of your room, locking yourself in the nearby bathroom, laughing evilly when he threw himself at the door. He yelled out your name, his fist banging on the door. "I'm serious! Don't!"

Ignoring his begging, you opened his phone with your thumbprint. How ironic how much he didn't want you to look at his phone when he was the one who insisted you have the password to it. His arguments became louder as you opened up his Twitter, immediately heading to the trending section, seeing both your names at the number one spot.

"Damn, I look hot." you joked out loud, making Chris silent for a second before pleading for you not to continue. You smirked, scrolling through the tweets, trying to find his reaction. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? Did you fall on your face or something?"

Chris groaned, banging his head on the door in defeat as he heard your almost inaudible gasp, that quickly turned into little giggles. If he wasn't so embarrassed, he would've broken the door down to hold you in his arms. "Oh, no."

Bursting out into hard laughter, you fell into the large bathtub, hitting your head on the wall but you couldn't care less. The expression on his face during your performance had been borderline comical, the wide eyes, the jaw hanging open, the open hand resting on his chin while his eyes stayed strained on you the whole time, never wavering from your body, the sexy choreography making his jeans tight.

Cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, tears ran down your cheeks, your stomach cramping from the maniacal laughter. Lifting yourself up from the tub, you stumbled to the door, your loud laugh ringing out towards the whole house. You let Chris in the bathroom, his phone quickly taken from your hand but it was too late. The blush on his cheeks wasn't going away anytime soon. You leaned against him, your head resting on his chest, while you panted out a question. "Why did you look like you were trying to attract flies in your mouth?"

Chris groaned again, covering his eyes with a hand while the other rested on your back. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Oh, God, no." you giggled, wiping the tears away, beginning to calm down. Glancing up at him, you noticed everything above the shoulders was gleaming red, the embarrassment too unbearable for him. "Chris, you looked exactly like the first time we were forced to share a bed together."

"Yeah, you have that affect on me."

"You gonna tell me why you looked so ... shocked? Or do I have to search through Twitter and go with whatever fan theory makes the most sense?" you asked, unable to keep the smug grin off your face. Chris closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't made you come to the awards show in the first place. You raised an eyebrow, fingers itching towards his phone. "You know I'll do it, Evans."

The man raised his hands, taking them off of you as he paced around the bathroom, deciding if this embarrassing moment was the right time to finally confess. "It's just, you know, the dance was so ... sexual and hot that I probably wasn't the only one looking at you like that. You can't exactly blame me for being shocked, watching the girl I'm in love with—"

Chris stopped as you be watched the colors drain out of your face, immediately freezing when he realized what he had said. Both of you stared at each other, eyes wide, not moving a muscle, barely blinking; the atmosphere so tense neither of you were breathing, waiting for the other to talk. But neither of you wanted to go first, terrified.

It wasn't until you started to feel dizzy that you realized you hadn't been breathing, letting out a huge breath, trying to relax while Chris did the same, his hands shaking, a nervous tick he got whenever he was anxious. You got the courage to speak first.

"What?"

It was better than nothing.

Chris was so nervous he nearly ran out of the room. There wasn't some kind of handbook or script he could read, helping him tell one of his best friends how head over heels he was for her. So, he said what his brain was stewing. "What?"

"What—what?" you replied, unsure if he even said the L word, so lightheaded by the sudden confession.

The actor stilled, eyes widening even further, while his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "What?"

"What?"

"Say what one more time, Evans, and I will make nothing but mac and cheese for the rest of your stay." you threatened softly, getting tired of not having an answer to your one-worded question.

Chris took a deep breath, hands trembling as he clasped them together, hoping to find the right words, hoping his inner thoughts would come out clear, giving you the answer you asked for. "I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"

"What you were saying before. You know, before you looked like you saw a ghost and almost stopped breathing. I think that would be a good start." you replied, backing up to take a seat on the plush chair. Chris mirrored your actions, putting down the lid to the toilet before sitting down.

"This isn't the way I wanted you to find out." Chris whispered, his blue eyes trained on the emotions that flashed on your face. Your uncertainty of the situation didn't help his anxiety.

"Okay, um, were you going to tell me in the first place?" you asked, playing with the hem of your shirt—it had been a borrowed Patriots shirt from him. Looking back, you realized all the little things he'd done hadn't been because his platonic love for you. "Or were you just going to keep letting it be this way?"

Fidgeting with his hands, Chris peered through his eyelashes, seeing the hurt flash across your face before you quickly composed it. "Scott was hyping me up, trying to convince me to tell you before you got into another relationship. Do you know the real reason I broke up with Jenny? It hurt like hell when you announced you were engaged. Fuck, I couldn't even pretend to be happy because you were going to have the life I wanted with you, with someone who wasn't me. It was selfish and I got really mad at myself for being a dick."

"But—"

"And then the horrible, horrible relief I felt when you called off the engagement." Chris continued, his heart clenching. "Truth to be told, that was the day I found out I was in love with you, breaking things off with Jenny. Of course, I wanted to wait until you moved on, hoping to be the friend you went to but with my schedule, that was impossible. So, you seemed out comfort in Henry fucking Cavill."

"You're in love with me?" you whispered, hoping this wasn't some kind of cruel dream. If it was, you wouldn't mind staying.

The actor nodded, waiting for you to call him names and rush out. "Yes. You can leave or slap me or whatever you want to do but I love you."

You got up, running a hand through your hair. "Okay."

Chris' heart sank, wishing for any other kind of reaction, wishing you'd do something. Taking a deep breath, he got up. "Is this a goodbye?"

Frowning, you walked up to him, taking his face between with your hands, pressing your lips softly to his. You could feel his heart beat, the little organ beating so hard. You pulled away before he could recover from his shock, before he could kiss you back.

"Hello."

#chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america #reader insert #marvel #chris evans x singer!reader #nicki minaj #ariana grande #fluff #side to side #song fic

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lu-undy · 4 years

Note

Aye! I'm sorry this is probably hard to do but oof— Okay, Sniper and Spy decided to quit Mann Co and make their own life in Paris, married, they adopted a girl named Alizee, time pass and at 15 years old there was a winter dance which she wanted to invite the boy she liked, but is rejected because the boy she likes (named Tom) already has a girlfriend (named Helen), Sniper and Spy were always at the dance with her and they decide to go home and watch some movies, Happy ending. ♥︎

Alright, here it is! I’m sorry this took so long. I’m not a big fan of the idea of Sniper and Spy adopting a kid but I obliged anyway :) I hope you’ll enjoy it :)

“Alizée? Tu es prête ma chérie?”

[Alizée? Are you ready sweetie?]

The Frenchman asked from the bottom of the stairs.

“Oui, comin’ Papa!”

“You will be late if you take five more minutes, especially since your father here drives like a snail!”

“Whot?! Me? Drivin’ like a snail? You’re the bloody snail here!”

Lucien put a finger on Mundy’s lips and smirked.

“Language…! You don’t want your Princess to learn those words, non?”

Mundy rolled his eyes and smiled.

“I don’t drive like a snail, but yer dad’s roight! We’ll arrive late!”

“Comin’!”

The fifteen-year-old girl joined her parents downstairs.

“Hey, look at you, you look gorgeous, Princess!” Mundy said.

“Thanks, Papa helped me choose the dress.”

“Yeah, no doubt about that, I can recognise the taste.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothin’...!” Mundy winked at his daughter who chuckled. "Alroight, if we're all ready, let's get to the van."

The Aussie drove them to the place where the winter dance was held. Alizée's school had rented a large venue that some pupils and parents helped prepare for the occasion.

"What is he called again, your date?" The Frenchman asked, not without a bit of disdain.

"He's called Tom, Lu', follow up, darling…" Mundy answered.

"Right, this boy Tom, be careful around him, hm?"

"I will, don't worry."

"Don't stray far from adult supervision and if things go wrong, you know what to do, oui?"

"Lu', it's gonna be fine…" Mundy wanted to reassure him.

"How can you know?" Lucien answered. "But oui, ma chérie, you know what to do?"

"Y-yeah but uhm… I didn't take it with me…" She answered.

"She didn't take what?" Mundy asked.

"Papa wanted me to take one of his old blades…"

"What?!" Mundy exclaimed.

"Well, do you know any other way to submit someone efficiently?" Lucien answered.

"Oh c'mon, Lu', that's just madness! You can't give a fifteen-year-old a knife and expect her to be responsible with it!"

"Yes, you can! How old do you think I was when I started wielding my first balisong?!" Lucien answered.

Mundy rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Princess, I'm glad you didn't take it with you. 's not reasonable… But yeah, alroight, I guess there's some truth to what yer dad here says. If anythin' goes wrong, go and find the nearest adult, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Good, now, here's the place I think."

The street in front of the venue was filled with teenagers in suit and ties or dresses. Parents were there too and one could see the light effects in the room of the venue itself.

"Roight, there you are Princess."

Lucien got out of the van and let her out. He took a second to look at her.

"You are growing up beautifully, Alizée. I remember when you were a little girl…"

"Aw…" The young girl hugged her father dearly.

"Go and have fun before your father mocks me for my sentimentality." He said, smiling.

"Too late, Lu', I heard ya!"

Lucien rolled his eyes and Alizée chuckled.

"Parfait…"

[Perfect…]

"Go ahead Princess, we'll stay here just to make sure you get inside the room and then we'll drive back home. We'll come back at 10, alroight?"

"Okay, thanks! Have fun too!"

The young girl joined her friends who were shyly waiting for her on the pavement and Lucien climbed back in the van.

"Go ahead now." The Frenchman said.

"What?"

"Oh Lu', such a sentimental old folk ye are… Say it…"

"Nah, truth is, you're adorable."

Mundy held his lover's hand. He felt the ring on his finger and even if it had been years now, he still felt slight shivers whenever he got to touch that golden ring.

Lucien leaned in until his head was on his lover's shoulder.

"D'you see her still?"

"Oui. She entered the room a few seconds ago."

"Roight. Shall we go back?"

"Give it a minute or two, please." Lucien asked.

"Sure."

Silence fell in the van and both men watched the street empty of the teenagers and parents walk away.

"Mundy?"

"Hm?"

"I still cannot believe that we are raising a girl together."

"Neither am I. But we are, eh…?"

"Oui, we are."

"Also, you're so worried for her."

"Of course I am. She is our daughter. Even if she isn't the biological product of you and me, she is our heart and soul anyway."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that I wouldn't have expected you to be so… protective of her."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"Nah, of course not. And I find it… Well, I mean, it's nice."

"Nice?" Lucien repeated.

"Well, y'know, I'm wonderin'."

"About what?"

"If you're that protective of her, I guess you're quite the same for me, roight?"

Lucien smiled.

"Of course. Need I remind you that I literally killed people to protect you?"

Mundy chuckled.

"Yeah, it's true."

"But you are right. I love you in such a way that I cannot even think of a day without you."

"Hm… Thanks, luv'. I love ya too."

Mundy turned to kiss Lucien's head.

"You're all about feelin's and romance. You got me to like it too."

Lucien raised his head and their lips met. Mundy melted on his seat. The Frenchman smiled when their lips parted.

"Is the hunter softening?" He cheekily asked.

"Looks like it, and it's all your bloody fault."

"Language…"

"Alizée isn't here."

"Non, but I am."

"Ah, sorry luv', I didn't want to expose yer delicate ears to such strong words…!" Mundy mocked.

"I accept your apologies only if you make it up to me, somehow."

"Oh, someone thinks they can make me do what they want, eh?"

"Am I wrong?"

"Nah, you're very right…"

Their lips met again briefly.

"And if we were at home on our own, I'd gladly show you that you can…"

"Ooh…" The Frenchman purred. "I cannot wait." He looked in the direction of the venue. "Wait, that's Alizée…! What is she doing outside?"

Before Mundy could answer anything, Lucien was out of the van, walking to meet his daughter. She was leaning on the wall of the main entrance of the room and had sunk down to sit there.

"Alizée ma chérie, why are you outside?"

"Huh?!" She gasped. "Wait, you aren't home?"

"Non, we were just chatting with your father. What is the matter?"

"It's Tom…" She sadly answered.

"Did he do anything inappropriate?" Lucien started rolling up his sleeves.

"No…" She answered.

"Don't jump at the kid's throat, luv'." Mundy had joined them and put a hand on his husband's shoulder to stop him. The Australian crouched down and helped his daughter up.

"So what's wrong?"

"He lied to me. He already has a girlfriend and of course he's dancing with her and not with me…"

"L'enfoiré…"

[The son of a…]

"Language…" Mundy cheekily said. "Isn't there anyone else who can dance with you?"

"No… And in any case, I don't want it. I want to go back home…" She answered and started walking to the van.

Lucien and Mundy looked at each other before catching up with her. The Aussie put his hand on her shoulder while Lucien held her hand.

"I'm sorry, papa."

"What for?" Lucien asked.

"No, I mean you taught me how to dance for so long and it's all useless now…"

"Don't say that, it's not useless. You know what? It is better that way. I did not like this Tom."

"Lu'..."

"Non, it's true, I had a bad feeling about him."

"How on Earth could you have a bad feeling about someone you haven't even met?"

"I just felt it!" Lucien answered. "I have the nose for this."

They all entered the van.

"You have what now?"

"Isn't that an expression in English too? To have the nose for this or for that means that you can smell something will happen."

"Princess, can you tell yer dad there that not all French expressions translate into English…?"

Alizée turned to Lucien.

"Papa…"

"Oh come one, Mundy, you understood what I meant! Alizée, tell you father please that if he doesn't stop mocking my English, I shall remind him how poor his French is, despite his having lived in France for years now."

Alizée turned to Mundy now.

"Dad…"

"Roight, roight…"

The streets were mostly empty at night and the journey back was quick.

"Alroight, here we are."

Alizée seemed distraught still. She was dragging her feet on the floor even as she climbed the stairs up. She pushed her bedroom door and let herself collapse on the bed, her face sinking in the duvet. A few moments later, there was a knock on the door.

"Hm?" She growled.

"You groan like your father when he is annoyed." Lucien said as he walked in.

Alizée sat on her bed and her father sat next to her.

"I understand what you must feel, ma chérie. But don't think too much about it. You will have other opportunities to dance and have your moment with a boy that you like."

"Yeah, you're right but… But I'm here while they're all dancing and having fun."

"Trust me, it doesn't change much in your life. Don't get me wrong, I would have loved you to go and enjoy yourself there. But maybe it's better this way. Who needs boys anyway, hm?"

She looked up at him and his smile made her grin.

"Yeah well, comin' from you, that's quite bold." She answered and he chuckled.

"Non, no one needs boys. I need a man, and you will too, when the right time comes. You are still so very young…"

"Hm…"

She leaned on her side and let her head rest on her father's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"Can you help me get out of my dress, please?"

He kissed her head.

"But of course, give me your back."

"Wait, before that…"

"Oui?"

"I love you Papa."

Lucien softened and hugged her tighter.

"We love you too, and want nothing but you to be happy. It makes us sad too to see you like that, you know? But don't dwell on it too much. We will have fun between ourselves tonight, alright?"

She nodded against his chest.

"Merci." She said before she gave her father her back and he opened the zip there.

[Thanks.]

"There you go. I'll be downstairs with your father. Join us when you get your change, alright?"

"Oui Papa."

He kissed her head again and left the room, closing the door after him. Downstairs, both men were on the sofa, waiting for their daughter.

"How did it go?" Mundy asked.

"Better but still a bit bitter." Lucien answered. "She's getting a change and will be with us soon."

"Good. You cold?"

"A bit."

The Australian took the nearby blanket and as his lover laid on him, he covered him.

"Hmm… Much better now, mon amour."

[My love.]

"Glad for you." He rested his head on his lover's.

They heard the steps of the stairs creak and both looked behind them.

"There you are!" Mundy said.

Lucien moved away from the Aussie and the girl sat between them.

"Look what I made for you…" Mundy revealed a big bowl of popcorn.

"Oh… Thanks Dad." She kissed his cheek.

"And I am told that there is this ridiculous action movie that you wanted to go and see on the TV tonight." Lucien added as he switched the screen on.

"It's not ridiculous, it's just to relax, Lu'..."

"Whatever you want to call it."

"Shush, it's starting." Mundy said.

"Don't shush me!"

"Papa, s'il te plaît…?"

[Dad, please…?]

"Oui, ma chérie."

[Yes, sweetie.]

Mundy put the bowl away just to throw the blanket on all three of them. Immediately after he put it back on their lap, both Lucien and Alizée dug in.

The Frenchman took a handful of popcorn and before he tasted it himself he fed some to Mundy.

"Thanks, luv'." The Aussie whispered and his husband winked at him.

"Dad? Papa?"