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ohtobeleah · 4 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Seven: [Faucet Failure]

Summary: Jake makes his way back to you after finding out the truth. While under sedation to give your brain some rest, you remember the good times and the bad with your husband.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4.6K

Author Note: These chapters keep getting more and more heartbreaking. I can’t even deal. Why did you guys let me do this to y’all?

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

November 22nd

The dim glow of your TV was the only thing in the house that was giving your home any sort of light. The kids had all gone down well, both Lucy and Lennox had swimming practice after school which meant that they were down and out for the count before you even got from their beds back to the door. Sam was easy to get to sleep, he always had been. He was just a naturally sleepy kid.

The gentle knock against your front door startled you, but didn’t shock you. You knew exactly who it was. It was the same guy who'd given you a tissue to dry your tears, the same guy who sat beside you and kept you company during one of your lowest moments. It was the guy that had turned an overly depressing core memory into one that showed a little humanity, sympathy and understanding.

“Happy Birthday!” Jensen cooed as he stood at your door with a plastic bag full of Chinese takeout containers full to the very brim. “I didn't know what you liked so I think I got one of everything.” You stood at the threshold of your home just staring at the man who was on your doorstep, who’d insisted on buying you dinner. When you had informed him of your three children, Jensen said he’d have it delivered.

But he didn't specify who’d be delivering it…..

“I hope you weren't expecting a tip.” You smiled as you let Jensen into your home, the unimaginable amount of scattered children's shoes made it look like you were raising a family of caterpillars, but Jensen didn't mind the mess. He understood, his sister had two little girls around about the same age as Lucy and Lennox.

“But I brought you cheesecake as well?” Jensen smiled back at you in the darkness of the dimly lit hallway. “Can’t have a birthday without cake.”

“I don't even remember the last time someone brought me any form of cake.” You sighed as you politely took the cheesecake in its cake box. Jensen frowned in response as he watched you hit the light switch in the hallway that led to the kitchen.

“Didn't your husband ever buy you a birthday cake?” He called out as he followed you deeper into your humble abode. It was a simple question that carried far too much weight than you were ready to truly unpack. You'd told Jensen in one of your many conversations since you first met about how you and Jake were separated due to circumstances that weren’t fair to either one of you. Jensen never pressed for more information than you were willing to give.

“He used to.” You shrugged. “I can't remember the year he stopped, hell–I can't really even pinpoint when he stopped caring but eventually he did and soon enough my birthday just became another day.” It was hard to admit, but Jensen made opening up about your marital struggles easy, you never really confided in anyone about any of it. He had a non-biased opinion. “But I loved Jake, I still do, at the time I guess I didn't care that I was getting a fraction of what I deserved because a fraction of him was better than nothing at all.” The tears were there, they were ready to spill over your lower last line. But you never let them fall as Jensen sat down at your kitchen bench and opened up the bag of chinese food. “But it all got too much– or too little, I suppose.”

“Have you told him about the cancer yet?” Jensen asked softly, he wasn't pressing, he was just asking.

“I still dont think I’m going to–he probably wouldn't care, I mean he forgot my birthday.” Again you shrugged it off like it was no big deal. “I highly doubt he’d care about some cancer diagnosis.”

“Are you sure he wouldn't care? Or have you just convinced yourself he wouldn't because it hurts less to believe he doesn't care than it does to believe he does?” When you answered Jensen's heart sank. He saw the tears in your eyes, the look of heartbreak that reflected from your very soul. The longingness in your expression. He saw right through the wall you tried so hard to protect yourself with. He saw it all. Which is why when your voice cracked and your support beams held together by caffeine and your need to keep a normal routine for your children in place, faltered, Jensen sighed.

“It didn't take much convincing–”

“Y/n–”

“How was Chemo today?” You tried your best to change the subject as you grabbed some cutlery. The chair beside Jensen at your kitchen counter looked awfully comfortable.

“Consider my follicles fried.” Jensen chuckled as you handed him a spoon. “Now don't change the subject, we’re talking about you and this husband of yours, who, I'm convinced, is a few screws short of a hardware store.”

“Oh yeah? Why's that?” You weren't sure if you wanted to know, but what you did know was that Jake wasn’t here. He’d sent you a message earlier in the day but you were yet to respond. You felt that if you replied it would open a floodgate of vulnerability. But soon enough Jensens words had you in a freefall of wondering if it was truly over between you and Jake–

“Because I don't think anyone who's lucky enough to love you would ever put themselves in a position to lose you.”

Or not.

***~***~***~**~***~

“Look left for me?” Doctor Ignatii spoke as he shined his little pen light in your eyes. “And right?” You did as you were told although you just wanted to be left alone. “Count to five for me?” You almost rolled your eyes as Doctor Ignatii stepped away and walked closer to your feet.

“One, two, three, four, five.” You slowly counted. “Do I get a gold star?” Doctor Ignatii didn’t take your foul attitude to heart, he dealt with people like you every day—over the years you tend to develop pretty thick skin.

“Possibly, if you can wiggle your toes and touch your nose?” He asked through a smile as he began to feel your feet. “Wiggle please Mrs Seresin.”

“This better not be my audition tape for the Madden Brothers Circus.” You didn’t mean to take your hostility out on the doctor who had saved your life, but there was a small part of you that wished he would have just let the blood clot do its damage. You did what you were told once more and wiggled your toes and touched your nose. “Look at me go.”

“Well—“ Doctor Ignatii chuckled to himself as he filled out your charts on his iPad. “You don’t seem to be showing any immediate deficits post surgery, I’d like to give your brain a chance to rest for another ten to twelve hours before we get you out of bed for a little bit of a walk.” You listened to what your doctor was saying as your mother came back into the room, you didn’t know it but Jake had just landed and was heading right over.

“Does that mean I get more of these awesome drugs?” You asked playfully, your mother even swore you were flirting. Doctor Ignatii was very handsome with brown hair and dark skin. He smiled at your forwardness but nodded in response. He was also used to this.

“We’ll give you another sedative to make sure you're able to rest, you’ll probably feel like you got hit by a bus when you wake up but it’ll give us a clearer indication if you’ll face any deficits going forward.”

“You reckon breast cancer’s a deficit?” You couldn't stop thinking about the dream you had about Jake. it felt so real, like your own personal rolodex of memories was trying its best to show you the good times. For whatever reason that may be you had no idea, but, you really had to ground yourself in your own reality. Jake wasn't the Jake from your memories anymore, although you desperately wished he was. He was now the Jake who couldn't remember your birthday or to fill your Christmas stocking on Christmas. He was the guy who let you peel your own oranges after he’d done it for so many years.

He was the guy who had fallen out of love with you.

“I do, but your double mastectomy has been rescheduled for Christmas Eve. So what better way to wake up on Christmas morning knowing your chance of kicking cancer's ass just went up by thirty five percent?” It was your turn to smile at Doctor Ignatii as he ended the conversation about your cancer at that. “I’ll send in a nurse to admit the sedative, mum? She’ll be out for a minimum of ten hours while on the IV, you should take the time to get some rest too.”

“Sure thing Doc.” Your mother answered as she watched him walk away. “Were you flirting with that man?”

“No harm, he’s seen the inside of my brain, can’t get more intimate then that can you?” You were probably putting on a braver face then you felt but your mother could tell you were nervous about the sedative..

“I’ll stay with you for the entire time you're sleeping.” She cooed as she pushed your hair behind your hair. She noticed how stands fell almost with the gust of her fingertip. The chemo was killing your hair follicles. “You won’t be alone.”

“Thanks.” Was all you said as Lydia came into your room ready to set your IV drop up. “I hope you’ve done this before, kid.”

“Absolutely Mrs Seresin.” Lydia chuckled, she felt a lot better after a full eight hours of sleep. “I’ll just get this sorted and you’ll be good to go.” As Lydia set up your IV, you had just rough energy to send one message to a dear friend you thought should know about your current state. Your mother watched as you typed out a really quick message with one hand.

You: “Had a stroke, in hospital, surgery rescheduled.”

“Promise you’ll stay?” You asked your mum one more time as you saw her reading a text. A text from your ex husband telling her he was about twenty minutes away and running off the five hours of sleep he got before his world got flipped on its head.

“You’re not going be alone sweetheart.” Your mother answered rather cryptically. As your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. “You’re not gonna be alone.”

***~***~***~**~***~

“I'm here.” Jake had taken the next flight back to Rhode Island that he could, he didn't have time to waste when it came to getting back to you. He was tired, emotionally exhausted from everything he had learnt of your condition and dishevelled beyond belief. He was sure someone threw a dollar down at him while he was sitting on the floor at the airport next to a charging port. He looked so distressed and dishevelled that someone thought he was homeless.

He kept that dollar though.

“Okay, ask the main reception to point you in the direction of oncology and we’re in room 306.” Your mother replied over the phone, Jake had called her about fifteen minutes after you had been administered your sedative.

Jake felt his heart in the back of his throat as he took the elevator up to the level the lady at the reception desk in the main lobby of the Rhode Island hospital had told him to go to. Oncology equals cancer, you had cancer, breast cancer, you had a stroke, strokes can kill you, cancer can kill you.

Jake had thought about nothing else since he got on his flight, the idea that you were sick, that you were so sick you couldn't even tell him broke his heart more than you leaving him ever could. There was once a time where Jake thought you could tell him anything, that you were able to come to him with any problem you had or were facing.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when you stopped telling him things, or more importantly when he’d stopped listening. Jake couldn't help but to blame himself for feeling like he’d somewhat put you into this situation where you felt like you couldn't rely on him to step up when you needed him to. You were sick and you needed support, he was supposed to be that support, but instead you kept him in the dark like he didn't deserve to know you were ill.

Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but either way Jake was walking towards room 306 where your mother had told him to go. He brought his duffel with him, Jake made no plans to leave your bedside for the duration of your stay. However long that may be, he was gonna be by your side.

And the second he got to the threshold of your hospital room, Jake Seresin forgot what it was like to be able to breathe on his own accord.

“Oh Honey.” He cooed as his bottom lip quivered, your Mother tried her best to remain a strong presence but at the sight of Jake crumbling under the weight of the idea he’d lose you twice over made her eyes water. “Oh my sweet girl.”

***~***~***~**~***~

“Jake!” You shouted out throughout the house as Lucy and Lenny watched over baby Sam as they ate lunch in the living room.“Jake!”

“What?” Jake called back to you from the back deck where he was busy doing absolutely nothing but enjoying a beer with his feet up and his sunglasses on. He just needed twenty minutes. Sam had been a handful today and ever since Jake got home he’d wanted nothing more than to use his body as a jungle gym.

“The faucet in the ensuite won’t stop leaking, can you please tighten it before you get too comfortable.” You asked as politely as you could with a soft smile.

“Sure, yeah I’ll put it on the list.” Jake shrugged your request off like it was nothing but another chore you were commanding him to do. When Jake didn’t budge, you crossed your arms over your chest and pressed the issue further.

“It’s just that I’m trying to work on my new book and I can’t concentrate with the dripping.” You were in the middle of your latest project. A new book proposal your editors were waiting on.

“I said I’d get to it Hon, just—why don’t you try writing somewhere else besides your desk? Or better yet, shut the ensuite door?” Jake couldn’t see the rage burning in your eyes when he told you to basically deal with it until he could be arsed to get up.

“Jake please?” You begged, it wasn’t the first time you’d asked Jake to fix the leaky faucet but it would be the last. It was one the few final straws that broke your back before you decided enough was enough and you couldn’t stay in your marriage any longer. “I need you to do this one thing for me so I can work in peace.”

“If it’s so important that it needs to be fixed right this second Hon just fix it yourself?” Jake argued back as he took a sip of his beer, it had been a long week for him and he needed a moment to relax. “You know how to fix a leak.”

“I already tried!” You shouted back loud enough to finally have Jake taking his glasses off to look at you properly. “I’m trying to work, I’ve had the kids all week and I need to get these last few chapters done before next Friday and you go back to work on Monday.” You saw the look Jake gave you, one of annoyance and frustration, like you were some kind of parasite trying to ruin his day off to relax and enjoy some rest and rejuvenation before Monday rolled around again.

“Honey if you let me sit here for twenty minutes I will fix the fucking leak for you.” He tried to hide his disdain but you could read it through the lines on his face. “I’m not sure why you can’t just write somewhere where you can’t fucking hear it but I’ll fix it the minute I’m done drinking my beer.”

“Alright.” You pressed your lips together and tried not to let your anger boil over. “Alright I can live with that.”

“Hallelujah, she can live with compromise.” Jake sassed as he took another sip of his beer. You chose not to respond as you headed back inside the home you both shared with a feeling of under appreciated value looming over your head. What did Jake mean by compromise? You did so much and more for him, why was it such an issue that you’d asked him to fix a faucet.

He never did get around to fixing it like he said he would. Twenty minutes turned to two hours, which turned to two days, months and eventually It was only when the both of you decided to sell the property when you said you were leaving, that he noticed the leak was never fixed.

You never did finish that draft, the book that remained unpublished and half finished. You kept the google doc on your laptop and sometimes you thought about picking the project back up. But you never did, you never had time to, not while you were on the cusp of divorce and raising three children all on your own.

“I uh—I fixed the faucet.” Jake sheepishly told you as he made his way into the kitchen to see you packing plates and bowls and cutlery into moving boxes.

“The faucet I asked you to fix back in October?” You replied harshly while trying not to look at the man who forgot where you should have been on his priority list. “Glad I compromised on that one for this long.” You hissed, it had only been four days since you told Jake you were leaving, that you were moving back into your mothers place with the kids until you found somewhere to live.

“Honey—“

“Please don’t call me that.” You asked rather simply as Jake's heart broke before you. He was losing his wife, his kids and didn’t know how to fix what he’d unintentionally broken.

“Don’t go, we can fix this, I don’t want you to go.”

“Well unfortunately this isn’t about you Jake.” You tried to keep your voice down so that you wouldn’t alert the kids to your argument. If there was one thing you weren’t going to do it was fight in front of your children and subject them to that environment. “Tell me, it’s January right now isn’t it?”

“Yeah?” Jake wasn’t sure what you were getting at as he watched you pack the boxes of things you were taking with you.

“When’s my birthday?” You asked like he should have known that answer off the top of his head, because he should have and he did.

“Novem—oh fuck Y/n no hold on a minute.” Jake couldn’t find the words he wanted to say at that moment, how could he forget your birthday? He missed it entirely and you said not a single thing about it.

“My stocking was the only one empty at Christmas, not a single present under the tree was mine, you know why that is? It’s because for four years I’ve brought my own damn presents and gotten my own fucking birthdays cake, you don’t give a shit about fixing a goddamn fosset so I can focus on work let alone the little things.” You hissed before you tried to calm yourself down and get back to packing. Jake just stood there speechless looking like he hadn’t slept a wink in days. He hadn’t, not since you told him you were done and that you needed a break.

“I can fix this, please.” Jake was begging you to stay, he didn’t want to lose the one person who meant more to him than life itself. “Just don’t leave me.”

“There isn’t enough room for me in your life Jake, and instead of being selfish and trying to change you I’d rather let you go to be yourself. People change.” You shrugged. Staying now would have killed you, Jake felt you slipping through his fingers in real time as he watched you wrap up the mugs you were taking in old newspaper. “I sure never thought the man I married would change into someone I don’t even know.”

***~***~***~**~***~

Jake was at a loss for words when he stepped into your hospital room. The Christmas lights that shimmered around the room were a stark contrast to the plethora of machines that were scattered around your bedside.

“I thought since she’s sleeping the blinds should be shut.” Jake could just barely make out what your mother had told him as she rose to greet him with open arms. He couldn’t peel his eyes off you for even a second as the woman who had become his second mother took him in a warm loving embrace. “She’ll be out for a while sweetheart, they gave her a sedative to help her brain rest.”

“How long?” Jake asked as he held your mother tight.

“About ten—maybe twelve hours, she only just started the drip.”

“Oh—okay, yeah no that.” Jake tried to hold himself together but the damn was breaking. “That’s probably for the b-bet—oh god.” Jake Seresin had never felt his entire body crumbled into someone the way he felt his body crumble into your mothers arms.

“Oh my boy it’s alright, she’s alive, she’s gonna be okay.” Your mother tried her best to soothe Jake's cries but she knew it was coming from a place of love and undeniable sadness. “Here, sit down, I’ll go get you a coffee and something to eat.”

Jake took a seat next to your bedside and immediately reached out for your hand. He knew you were under and wouldn’t know he was there but he still brought your palm up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your hand.

“Oh Honey I’m so sorry this is happening to you.” He sobbed quietly as your mother stood behind him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”

“She hasn’t told anyone but me Jake, not her friends or her brother.” It was hard to process the sight before him, the love of Jake's life surrounded by machines, hooked by cords and wires and monitors that told him although your eyes were closed you were in fact, alive. “I don’t think she wanted you to know because she’s just so scared despite how she might put on a brave face.”

“Or she thought I wouldn’t care.” Jake mumbled as he reached out to make sure your hair was resting behind your ear, part of your head had been shaved from surgery, but Jake never expected the hair he tried to move back behind your ear to fall out at his touch. “Oh my god—“

“She’s been on oral chemotherapy since her biopsy came back cancerous, she needed you to take the kids so she could start more aggressive IV chemo.”

“Her hair’s already falling out?” Jake had never felt this way before, so rendered powerless. He’d taken a life before and saved many, but watching you right now was the most powerless he’d ever felt. Jake caught the sight of your phone flashing with a new message with a name he didn't recognise. There was no time to ask you about the message he saw, but jake knew maybe, just maybe, you had lied when you told him there was no other guy.

Jensen: “Oh shit, I'll swing by once I'm out of the woods.”

“Aggressive cancer needs aggressive treatment sweetheart.” Your mother leaned in to kiss the top of Jake's head. “I’ll be back, coffee and a sandwich will do you good.”

“Thanks Maz.” Jake sighed as he kept your hand up near his mouth as he leaned his elbows on the side of your bed. “Oh Honey, Honey, Honey—what have we become?”

***~***~***~***~***~***

Your honeymoon was the most beautiful trip you’d ever gone on. Jake Seresin was very much a summer man. He loved when the sun was shining and the water was cool and the beers were as refreshing as they ever could be.

The resort in Bali that the two of you were staying at for the entire two weeks was nothing but picturesque with stunningly gorgeous gardens and extraordinary architecture. The pool you were sitting on the edge of was just one of the many pools that you and Jake had yet to visit. He stood on the ledge of the rock waterfall and smiled ear to ear.

“I’m not resuscitating you when you slip and hit your head!” You called out through a beaming smile.

“Reckon I could clear a backflip?” Jake asked childishly as he climbed to the very top. His abs looked far too perfect to be real as he stood tall and flexed just for you, his wife.

“Jake Seresin, don't you dare!” You warned as you looked over your sunglasses at your childish husband. He was everything any more, how you got so lucky you'd never understand. The two of you had decided on a small elopement style wedding that saw only a handful of your closest family members in attendance. The both of you saw no need for over the top extremities and thoughts of dollars spent on a single night. You thought why not use the money on a holiday getaway, your dream honeymoon. After Rodney had gone on his happiness never ends tangent, Jake wished the two of you had just gone down to town hall.

“Live a little Mrs Seresin!” Jake shouted as he took the leap of faith and backflipped off the very top of the man made rock waterfall that cascaded down into the crystal clear pool. The two of you were the only guests in sight which you were so thankful for when Jake came belly flopping down into the water with a crisp slap.

“Oh!” You cringed hard as your husband hit the water. “That's gotta hurt the ego buddy.” You giggled as you watched Jake swim under the water closer to the edge where you sat just relaxing in the smallest bikini known to mankind. “Jake?” You asked as he crept closer and closer under the water. Your eyes never left his swimming silhouette until he was jumping up right in front of you to rest his elbows on the edge of the pool right in front of you.

“My execution was a little off.” He grinned as you leaned in to give him a kiss. Unbeknownst to you though as your lips pressed against your husbands, his hands snakes around your waist to quickly drag you into the water where Jake needed you to be. With him, forever.

“JAKE!” You shouted as you fell into the pool. Jake couldn't contain his laughter. Thank god he remembered you knew how to swim.

“Yes Honey?” He cooed as you resurfaced with a gasp.

“You’re a child!”

“Uh no–I'm not.” Jake made sure to correct you as he pulled you closer under the water. His hand explored your ass as he wrapped your legs around his waist and held you up against him. You could feel his hard on pressing against your core, it wouldn't take much at all for him to slip out of his trunks and into you if he wanted to.

“But if you want I can show you how they're made?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

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golden-cherry · 9 months

Text

deal - cl16 (11/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The dinner is in full swing. And friends sharing a dessert is pretty normal - right?

Warnings: FLIRTING, PINING (you've been warned!), Charles is sweet, a bit of angst (at the end, beware)

Word Count: 3.5k

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A/N: if my story is tooooo slow burn, feel free to tell me! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

According to Google, cold water on the wrists helps against heat, because the blood circulating in the body is cooled there quickly and thus the body temperature should drop.

So why the hell are you getting hotter?

About five minutes ago, you fled the table after Charles sat down next to you and your brain stopped working and before you could sweat through your clothes. Charles had looked at you with a concerned look after he made room for you to get up from the bench, but you had just smiled at him kindly and once the table was out of sight you were able to take a decent breath.

About four minutes ago you were frantically googling for a way to get rid of the heat Charles was causing inside you, and since you don't have lukewarm showers here at the restaurant, nor do you have any essential oils with you, the only solution was cold water on your wrists.

And for about three minutes you've been standing here, letting water run over your skin, and as long as you don't have to think about Charles and his touch, your body seems to cool down as well. But how could you not think about him when he is all your thoughts revolve around?

How silky his hair must be? Or how soft his skin? Or how gentle his touch?

You lean your forehead against the cold tiles on the wall, though you would have preferred to bang your head against them.

You can't think that way about Charles. About your roommate. Your friend. And especially not after two days together. You two don't even really know each other. So why can't your thoughts stop spinning around him?

Before you can actually bang your skull against the wall, the door to the ladies' room opens.

"Are you okay?" asks Kika, leaning against the wall opposite you. She glances at your hands, which you're still holding under running water, and then looks at you with raised brows.

You clear your throat before turning off the water and reaching for a paper towel to dry yourself off. "I'm fine."

Your new friend reaches out her hand, and you hand her the paper so she can toss it into the trash can beside her. "You can talk to me, Y/N. You know that, right? There is nothing you confide in me that I would ever tell anyone." When you raise an eyebrow, she nods slightly. "Not even Pierre."

You lick your tongue over your teeth once. "I appreciate that. Thank you."

Kika smiles. "I mean it. You can call any time of the day or night. I promise I'll always be there for you. Even if we've only known each other for a short time."

"I'll keep that in mind." You move toward the door. "But then don't complain if I really do call in the middle of the night and wake you up."

She pushes off the wall and puts an arm around your shoulder. "As long as you don't make me get up at six in the morning, this is going to be a super friendship." She gives you a quick squeeze before dropping her arm. "You ready?"

Together, you walk back to the table, where the guys have their noses stuck in the menus. Charles is still sitting in the seat next to yours, a fresh beer in front of him, and as you girls approach the table, he looks up. His look is more unsettled than concerned as he gets up so you two can sit down again. This time, however, he leaves some space between you, for which you are very grateful.

"Is everything okay?" he asks quietly, so that only you can understand him.

You nod. "Everything's fine." Seeing that he doesn't believe you, you come clean. Well, part of the truth. "I was just a little warm. It's okay, I promise."

He seems to buy that a little bit more, because he slides the menu on the table so you can both look at it. "We were going to order dessert before we leave. Would you like some?"

You take a look at the map and have to concentrate on every single letter so that you can ignore Charles' gaze on you. But that's easier said than done, because out of the corner of your eye you can see how his gaze drifts from your eyes, over your nose and further down, before he licks his lips and also turns back to the card.

You think you read something about tiramisu somewhere on the menu, which is why you suggest just that. When you find it, you put your finger on the card. "This." Your finger follows the letters and finally gets stuck on the price, which is pretty high for a dessert. You draw air through your teeth. "Or maybe not."

Charles leans back and runs a hand through his hair once. "The tiramisu is actually meant for two people." He points to the heading above some of the dessert offerings. "Look. Dessert pour deux."

And indeed. The dessert menu is divided into individual servings of ice cream, panna cotta and chocolate souflée, and desserts for two like a moist slice of chocolate cake and dumplings filled with pureed fruit. And tiramisu.

"Then I'll have something else," you answer him, but before you can say anything, Charles leans forward.

"If you want, we can share the tiramisu." His voice is low, but deep.

You don't even dare look at his face, because then you'd have to disappear right back to the bathroom to cool off. How can the suggestion of sharing a dessert sound so seductive? And why doesn't your heart realize that it doesn't have to beat so fast because of it? After all, friends can share dessert without ulterior motives. Or longing. Or anything else.

You smile at him. "I'd love to.""

When the waitress comes back to the table to take orders, Charles orders the tiramisu with two spoons. As she disappears, he turns back to you.

"So, what do you think of my friends?" he asks, taking a sip of his beer, which you only now see is non-alcoholic.

"They're all pretty awful. Hardly bearable," you answer him. He almost chokes on his drink as he lets out a snort. "How can you be friends with them?"

He puts the bottle back on the table. "Good question. They were just there at some point and I guess I missed the time when I could have gotten rid of them. I guess it's just too late now."

"If you want to get rid of us," Kika straddles the conversation, "all you have to do is say so." She scoots closer to you and reaches for your hand to intertwine your fingers. "But you do realize that we're definitely keeping Y/N."

"Ouch." Charles spins on the bench and puts his knee on the cushion, mere inches from your thigh. "So you already like her better than me?" His gaze shifts to you. "Nothing against you, of course. You know how much I like you."

You don't have a second to think about his words before Kika pulls you against her so that your back is against her front. "But of course! We're both going to be best friends eventually! Besides, you can't tell me she didn't immediately captivate you too with her beautiful smile and charm."

You lightly slap Kika's forearm and try to squirm out of her embrace, but she won't let go. Which is why you can only look straight ahead, directly at Charles, whose gaze is gentle and loving. Dimples bore into his cheeks as he smiles. "She did."

Kika lets go of you and you turn to her briefly, giving her an evil look that's meant to express "What was that all about?" as several waiters come to the table and place various plates and bowls with all variations of desserts in front of you. Charles puts a spoon down for you and places the plate with the huge piece of tiramisu between you so that you can both eat from it comfortably.

He smiles at you and points his own spoon at the dessert. "Ladies first."

Gratefully, you smile at him before using the spoon to cut off a piece and shove it into your mouth. On your tongue, the tiramisu seems to explode and your eyes roll back and you can muster just enough strength to keep from moaning out in pleasure. In all your life, you've never eaten dessert so delicious.

"That good?" asks Charles, who also slips a piece between his lips. A bit of cream sticks to the corner of his mouth and as he licks it away with his tongue, you have to swallow.

"It's perfect," you reply, taking another bite so you don't have to look at Charles.

"Don't be in such a hurry," Charles says, pressing his spoon down on yours as you go to take a third piece so you can't move it. "I thought we were sharing the tiramisu."

You jiggle your spoon a little to pull it out from under his, then point it at him. "You're already using my brush. I think I should get a bigger piece of this." You're about to dig the spoon back into the dessert when Charles pulls the plate away. "Hey!"

"So that's how we play, huh?" You can't even react as quickly as he's shoveling in the tiramisu. One bite after another, he pops it into his mouth before you can lean over and grab the plate to pull it away. As he goes to take another piece, you swat his spoon away with yours.

"You've already eaten half!" you scold him affectionately. "Leave some for me, too, you glutton!"

"First come, first served," he responds, already holding out his spoon, but you grab the plate and turn your back to Charles so he'd have to reach around you to get to dessert. That way you would still be able to take a few bites in peace without having to fight for it, because for sure Charles wouldn't come that close to you for dessert.

You feel the heat even before you can follow through with your plan.

Charles moves close to you so he can snake his arm around you. His chest presses against your back as he leans in to look over your shoulder, so he can just find the tiramisu he's so desperate for. His hot breath is on your ear, on your neck, and you're glad there's a sweater and blouse between you, because if you were touching - really touching - you'd have a heart attack, you're sure of it.

"Come on, just a little bit more," he breathes.

Your body freezes and you tear your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost. Your grip on the plate tightens, your fingers almost clench around the china, and Charles's scent in your nose fogs your brain.

Why does Charles have such an effect on you?

"Stop it," Kika intervenes, taking the plate from your hand. "You're arguing like an old married couple."

"We're not," counters Charles, who now also snakes his second arm around you to get at the plate Kika has placed in front of him. But it's a little too short, so he slides a little closer to you. "If we were fighting properly, this would definitely end differently." His fingers get a grip on the edge of the plate, and you're too frozen to do anything about it. He moves away from you, moving back to his seat and shoving two more bites between his jaws before pushing the rest in your direction. "I'm willing to share with you."

Kika nudges you, bringing you out of your stupor. You turn to face him. "And what do you want in return?"

Charles smiles at you. "Just your friendship."

You return his smile, not even noticing the slight twinge in your chest. "Deal."

"This is where deals are made?" asks Lando as he sits down in the empty seat in front of you - Charles' old seat. "How much money are we talking about?"

"It's not about money," Charles replies, his tone sounding somehow cold, very different from just a few moments ago.

You nod in agreement. "It's about something much more important." You point to the last bite of tiramisu in front of you, "It's about tiramisu."

Lando's gaze moves from your face to the dessert, then back to you. "That's actually very important. I know a pâtisserie in Nice that serves the best tiramisu in the whole world. Maybe we can go there together sometime?"

Before you can answer, the waitress comes to the table with the bill. As you are about to pay, Charles gives you a scowl. "I invited you, so I'm paying for you."

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to pay for me."

"I'd like to, though. I owe you that, as badly as I treated you today."

Since you can't argue with him on that, you let it happen and when all the bills are paid, the small group stands outside the restaurant. The wind has gotten even colder and inside you are scolding yourself for not taking a thick jacket. You blame it on Charles and his mood swings.

As you wrap your arms around yourself to get a little warmer, Charles hands you his jacket. "My sweater is thick. And I don't get cold easily."

Hesitantly, you slip the jacket on and are immediately enveloped by his scent. The fabric is heavy but feels comfortable on you and you have to suppress the urge to smell it. You feel warm and would like to snuggle into the jacket. You stifle a yawn and smile at him. "Thanks."

"So," Pierre props an arm on Kika's shoulder. "What club do we want to go to now?"

"The Jimmy'z is about to open," Lando suggests, looking at his wristwatch. "Or La Rascasse. There's supposed to be a cool DJ there today."

The clubs tell you something, but from stories you know how expensive the drinks are there. And since you don't want Charles to pay for you all night and you can't afford Monaco's nightlife, your evening is declared over, for better or worse.

Kika raises her hands. "I'm afraid I have to get up early tomorrow, which is why it's time for me to go to bed."

You're glad she's the first to get out. "I'm pretty tired. So I'm not in either," you fib, curling your lips into a thin, apologetic smile.

Charles head jerks in your direction. "Shall we go home then?" he offers.

"It's fine, you go party," you reply, moving a little closer to him. "Your day has been pretty lousy. So go get drunk with your friends. But call if you want to be picked up. Then I'll come get you."

"Are you sure?" he asks, unsure. "I don't have to go with the others either."

You wave it off. "I'm sure."

"Do you still want me to walk you to the car?" He hands you the car keys. "It's around the corner."

"I'll be fine, Charles," you smile, "I'm a big girl."

"I didn't doubt that," he assures you, but still seems undecided about whether to drive home with you or go with his friends. "Would you really be okay with me going?"

"If you ask me again, I'll punch you."

Charles smiles. "Will you let me know when you get home?"

"I will."

Charles seems satisfied with your answers, so he gives the boys a thumbs up. "Can I get a ride with you, Pierre?" When the latter nods, he turns to you. His smile is affectionate and gentle. "I'll see you at home."

The sentence sends warmth coursing through your body. "I'll see you at home."

Lando stands next to you, "My car is also around the corner. We can just walk the bit together," he offers and you nod gratefully before Kika wraps her arms around you.

"Well, you have my number. You can get in touch if you like," she says, giving you a hug. "And if you don't, I'll be very mad at you." Her grin is wide and she pokes you in the side before returning to the other boys. "Don't be a stranger!"

"Don't worry, I won't," you reply, nodding goodbye to Pierre and Max before your gaze drifts to Charles. You raise your hand and wave at him, which he returns. Then you turn and start walking. Lando walks alongside you.

"So, how about that tiramisu in Nice?" he asks, his hands buried in his pockets.

You laugh out loud. "You're not letting up, are you?"

He shakes his head and grins. "No way. Unless you want me to, in which case I'd let it go, of course. I'm not a stalker, after all." He looks down at you.

"Well, it wasn't on my shopping list," you retort, collecting a slight nudge in return. "What? It was meant to be nice!"

"You better believe it."

You both turn the corner and your Renault enters your field of vision. "I've never been to Nice before. So for all I care, we can go there."

"Great." He takes a deep breath. "Then wouldn't it be better if I had your phone number? Then we could set up a day to go there."

You raise an eyebrow. "You already have my Instagram, isn't that enough? Not that you'll actually turn into a stalker," you joke.

"Okay, wow." He grins. "If you don't want to, of course I can understand. After all, we've only known each other since today."

"It's all good, Lando. Don't worry about it," you reassure him, telling him your number so he can type it into his cell phone. Then he calls you so you have his number as well.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

You come to a stop in front of your car, Lando looking at you confused. "Is this your car?" When you nod, he looks like a light's gone on. "I thought you guys came in the Ferrari. Had me wondering why he'd let someone else drive his Pista."

You try not to let the confusion show. "Um, no. We took mine." You unlock the car and open the door. "Thank you for a lovely evening and for walking me to my car."

He glances sideways for a moment. His jawline is so sharp it could certainly cut paper. "You're welcome." He wraps his arms around you and squeezes. "And about Nice, I'll text you." He breaks away from you and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "Get home safe, okay?"

"I'll do my best," you smile and get in the car. As you drive off, you see Lando waving in your rearview mirror.

You can't help but think of his statement. Charles has a Ferrari? Those cars must cost hundreds of thousands of euros. How can he afford such a thing? Do people in the car business really earn so much that they can just buy a Ferrari?

And why does he insist on driving your rickety old Renault when he apparently has a super car at his disposal? Is he hiding something from you? And if so, then what is it?

Suddenly you realize how little you actually know about him. But surely he will have reasons for not telling you - right? You decide not to push him to tell you about his car or his job, but to wait for him to tell you on his own. Friends don't push each other to do that. And you are patient enough to wait for him.

Before you can think about it further, you turn onto the street where your apartment is and immediately slam on the brakes.

Across the street, directly across from your apartment, is a green Nissan with a license plate you are very familiar with. Your hands start to sweat. What does he want here? How long has he been waiting for you? There doesn't seem to be anyone in the car. So where is he?

You turn a little on the seat to get a better view of the street, but it is deserted. Not a soul is on the road, you are all alone. And for sure you're not stupid enough to go home now, where he's surely waiting for you.

You grab your phone and dial a number. It beeps a few times before the person on the other end picks up. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

You bite your bottom lip and feel your heart pounding in your chest. "No," you answer, and your eyes dart around, trying to spot anything out there. To spot him. But you can't see anything. Which makes you feel even more anxious than you already are.

"Nothing's okay."

next part

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zialltops · 5 months

Text

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: phew this chapter was hard to write because all i want it for them to kiss already. these two are so at each others throats that i cant WAIT to write that in the form of the devils tango. please let me know what you guys think, comments fuel my desire to write🤍

Masterlink

AO3 Link 🤍

Chapter 2: Northern Attitude

Three days of bad weather pass before Joel is able to get the truck out of the snow to drag your car out of the embankment—but he chooses not to anyway. He’s spent the last three days working and avoiding you, because he can’t keep his head from spouting off about how much you piss him off and how good you look doing it.

And piss him off, you do. The morning after your first night home, Joel was shoveling off the steps and the front driveway when you came out of the house in a pair of pants that look like they have been in your closet for years because god damn, they are tight. He doesn’t miss the look on your face when you find your way into the snow where he’s working. “Like my stupid fucking shoes? I wore them so I’d look nice when I saw my parents—thought there was some delicious cowboy here to impress. But now they are all I have to wear because some bullheaded asshole left my car on the side of the road with all of my belongings in it.”

Him, being the bullheaded asshole instead of the delicious cowboy. He’s fuming, if he wasn’t already panting, he’s sure there would be steam rolling out of his ears right about now. He can't stand you. Cant stand your cocky attitude and the way you hold your hands on your hip’s—those sexy little fucking—Joel! “Should have known better than to show up in the middle of winter in those damn heels. You did that to yourself. You should know the only thing you’re findin’ here is cow shit and snow.” You cross your arms and look over his shoulder. “Yeah—nothing but bullshit here.” He turns to find Tommy, his eyes on your figure in your stupidly tight outfit, he’d always been the bolder of the two. “Nice shoes…y’know, they do seem practical, you’re a few inches above the cold, y’know? Don’t ya think, Joel?” You smile at him and Joel sees red, that trading asshole. “Y’know, I was still gonna pull you out, bullheaded asshole here was the one who insisted we leave you.”

If Joel was a better man, he’d tell his brother to fuck off—but he’s not, so he socks him in the mouth and gives him a nasty bruise and a split lip. Both of you hightail it away from the driveway and Joel gets back to his shoveling.

Since that day, it’s been a non-stop onslaught of demeaning remarks. You sneer at him when you pass him in the halls, so he sticks to the hunting cabin he and Tommy occupy for a whole day. When he comes in for supper, you sneer at him again. “What, do you just hide out all day, doing jack shit?” He started this, he knows that, and there isn’t much he can do since he left you for dead on the side of the road a few days ago. He huffs at you when he sits down across from you while everyone else gets their plates in the kitchen. His voice is somewhere between a whisper and an aggravated shout. “I’ve been taking care of the cattle, what the hell have you been doing all day, huh? With that big fancy degree? Hid in the house all day and do your nails?” The nails in question are a sharp blue color, a homage to the crisp skies as the sun sets amongst the gloomy clouds, radiating dark indigo across the plains. His stomach curls when his brain supplies the image of them wrapped around his cock—both your little hands, manicured and soft and—son of a—“Actually, I think I forgot to check the fences. Miss Lou, do you mind if I pack this up to go?” He did forget, and he should do that, but it could have waited another day. He really needs a reason to get away from your accusing eyes right now, away from the way you unwillingly make him feel ridged all over.

He checks all the fences on the half mile walk to the hunting cabin, eats his supper at the sad little table and tries (he fucking tries, okay?) to keep his hands off himself. It aches, aches when he gets hard, like a damn weight between his legs that makes him feel dizzy from lack of blood in his poor muddled brain. He gets crazy—can't stand the thought of another person having so much control over his senses that he can't control his own bodily functions. He hates that you’ve weaseled your way in to his weaknesses—pretty eyes, smarter than him, hard to get with an attitude. It pisses him off so bad that his body reacts before his mind can gain clarity enough to tell himself no. But how can he, when all he can think about is what this is doing to him.

He cant stop thinking about how much of a bitch you are, about the type of men you probably pulled while off in collage and how you expected some kind of Adonis and what you got was just Joel. Your disappointment in his mere existence does nothing to flag how hard he is when he finally gets his hands in his pants. It should be alarming how fast he’s got himself on the edge on the image of you glaring him down, blackmailing him just so he can be your own personal verbal punching bag.

What the fuck is wrong with him, that being treated like garbage gets him so worked up. Is it because he knows it's something he'll never have? Like nothing else in the world can, you’ve got him hot and stiff in his large hand, after three days of knowing you, his head tipped back against his pillow and his eternal gratefulness that Tommy is still eating supper at the main house. At least he wont have to witness the way Joel’s resolve goes down the drain when he thinks about those pretty eyes, those nimble fingers and that bratty little attitude. He cums when he thinks about your stupid fucking shoes and how angry you are at him that you’re stuck wearing them.

Tomorrow, he’ll tell you he still cant get your car out, even if all the fucking snow melts, just so he can watch you walk around in them for a little longer, so he can hate you a little bit more. Maybe his distaste will bleed out the want, but Joel has never been that lucky.

———

It’s damn late by the time Tommy makes it home—or maybe it’s not, but Joel's guilty hand found the neck of a bottle a few moments after washing it clean, so he’s completely lost track of time. Drowning his troubles was the best thing he could come up with, so he tipped the bottle back until it was empty and his head felt like it was in a fish bowl.

The door throws open when he’s leaned all the way back in a chair at the little dining table, his bottle sitting empty in front of him and his mind reeling. “Close the damn door, it’s freezing!” He doesn’t open his eyes, because he’s got the spins and the last thing he wants to do right now is throw up.

“Aint me.” He hears Tommy’s voice somewhere in the living room and he finally peeks an eye open and glances towards the door.

“You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?” It’s you, standing in the doorway and letting in all the cold residing outside of these walls. Joel attempts to lean forward, but his weight wobbles and the chair falls backwards on the hardwood. “This is why this ranch doesn’t make any profit. You spend your days drunk off your ass, don’t you?” Her tone is so accusing and snappy, if Joel had half a mind he would pull himself off this floor and give her a piece of it.

“S’the end of the day, I’m not workin’, ‘n I can do whatever I want.” He pulls himself up using the table and he stand there for a moment, trying to let his head catch up with the rest of his body. “I came down here to tell you I want my car out tomorrow morning first thing. But, by the looks of it you wont be good for a damn thing in the morning.”

He groans and walks over to the door on wobbly legs, his vision is blurry but the drunk part of his brain supplies that you walked all the way here with Tommy just to bark orders at him. So, Tommy is definitely a fucking traitor, getting cozy with you when he knows how irritating Joel finds you to be. Even if you look damn good with those wind bitten red cheeks that would look so good hallowed out around his—c’mon, Joel. “I’ll be up before you, smartass. I have livestock to feed, ‘sides, I told you I'd pull it out when I could. Snow’s still too thick.” Joel uses the door frame to hold him up while you look him over from the porch. “I wasn’t asking you to pull it out, Im telling you.” Telling him? Like he’s not his own goddamned person, who makes decisions around here of his own? Hank asked him over a year ago to manage the ranch on his own—he’s been the one calling the shots here for some time, so what gives you the right to stand on his porch and tell him what he’s going to do?

“You might be the all reining princess in their eyes, but do not push me, Honey. I’m not the one to fuck with,” your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest like that might somehow make him second guess his boldness. You take a few steps closer and puff your chest out, point your nose up at him with a hard glare. “What are you going to do about it, huh? Not a damn thing.” Actually, one thing does come to mind and it takes everything in Joels power not to grab you by your hair and bend you over the back of the couch, show you exactly what he’s going to do about it.

Instead, he stands there in the frigid air, looking down at you like a pissed off little mouse staring down an alley cat, so fucking brave that he questions if he’s an alley cat at all. “When you can run this ranch by yourself, then you can look down your nose at me, but until then, you’re going to need some taller stupid fucking shoes.” He wouldn’t have the balls to say these things to you if not for the whiskey burning through his veins. Actually, he’s been pretty weary of telling you off, because the last thing he needs is you telling your parents, who obviously would believe you over him. But right now? Fresh off half a bottle and a mind numbing orgasm? He has all the courage in the world.

“I want my car out. I want my things and my clothes. You have until tomorrow night, or my parents can find new ranch hands.” He scoffs and his anxiety only bubbles up a little bit—he’ll pay for it tomorrow, but right now he’s pissed. “Well you better hurry back there and get on it. I’ll tell ya what—I’ll even help you hang up the flyers, hows that sound?” Your face is beat red in an attempt to contain your anger, your eyebrows are drawn together in the kind of pout that makes Joel chub up in his sleep pants. He’d rather sleep out in the snow than to have you see the way your attempt at aggravation works him up, so he starts to close the door on himself. “Better get to it, unless you want to be the one up at four thirty to feed.” He closes the door, turns his body and lets himself slump against the wood. His palm finds the front of his pants and he pushes, attempting to quell the sudden rush of blood that makes his head spin more than the alcohol in his system. “Damn…she’s gettin’ to you, huh?”

It’s Tommy’s obnoxious fucking voice in his head, standing near the hallway to the two small bedrooms. “Fuck off, Tommy, you know how it is for me.” The younger man laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm just sayin’, it’s kind of funny. Nobody gets under your skin like that. Does fightin’ really do it for you?” His voice is dripping with amusement and Joel wants to punch him again. “It ain’t the fightin’.” Tommy rolls his eyes when Joel reaches into his pants to adjust the discomfort. “Oh, thats right. Your shitty attitude comes sometime after she gets your big ol’—“ Joel growls at him, ”Tommy, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m going to drag you out in the snow and beat your ass.”

It does the trick, because Tommy knows Joel isn’t kidding, he’s always been the stronger of the two, the one who’s always put Tommy in his place and he’s never been afraid to sock him square in his mouth when he runs it like he is now. “You know it bothers me when I can't control it. I can’t hide it. And she just—she—she’s one of them girls you know? The one’s that you don’t stand a chance with but they rub it in your face anyways and I can’t fucking stand it. It’s embarrassin’.”

He leans away from the door and makes his way over to the couch. When he plops down, his head finds his hands and he drags his calloused fingers through his curly, wind whipped locks. “What if you did stand a chance? Been a really long time since you’ve let yourself have anything.” Tommy finds the seat beside him and their heated argument shifts into a tender conversation, one brother to another, one man to his best friend in the whole world. “Ain’t about what I can have, tom, she’s Hanks daughter and I’m double her age, at least. This,” he gestures to himself vaguely. “This is the last thing a girl like her wants to get themselves tied up in. Can’t—one and done it like you can. Takes some…workin’ up to.”

Tommy pushes his shoulder with a small snort. “Always wondered how you got that thing in anyone.” He hasn’t wondered—he’s asked for years, and Joel being the closed off man he is, never had the heart to spill his bed-mates secrets. But there hasn’t been anyone for years, certainly not someone like you who can get him going faster than anyone he’s ever met. “Just—lots of…stretching. Things I can't do during a tumble in the hay, alright? And not everyone wants to deal with that—fuck know’s I don’t.”

Deal with the rejection of someone seeing him naked and kindly (or not so kindly) telling him that they aren’t interested anymore, deal with the look of shock women give him when he’s pressed up against them—when they feel it. He’s tired of it—so he doesn’t try anymore. Having you at his doorstep, flooring that desire in him? He can't deal with that. “I always thought it would be kind of an appeal to women, don’t they like that? I mean, I didn’t get your genes but I’m not doin’ too bad, they seem to like it.” Not doing too bad? To be normal, lead a normal life where he doesn’t have to bring anxieties to a moment he should only bring pleasure? “It ain’t all puppies and rainbows, man…nine times out of ten were good and they’re into it until I get my pants off. Then they hightail it out of there before I even have a chance to explain myself.”

It’s an embarrassing conversation to have with your brother, but Joel is grateful that he at least has someone he can talk about this with, above all else. The years he’s struggled, the supposed highs that only led to disappointment. It's been one minuscule moment of rejection after another, and he’s not asking for a lot, just to feel what everyone else gets to feel—normal, wanted, less like a freak and more like something to be desired. All for something he can’t change about himself, because believe him he wants to.

“I’m sorry man…I can’t relate, but I know how hard it is for you. One day, some crazy bitch is going to love your…terrifying dick.” He snorts loudly and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “Today ain’t the day, but thanks, Tom…” his head is still spinning and if he doesn’t go to bed soon, he won't make it out to feed before the sun hits the horizon. Tommy heads to his room, but Joel finds a blanket and curls up on the couch with a trash can at his side—just incase he needs to throw up before morning comes and he sobers up.

———

He does make it out to feed. It takes him an hour to get a hundred and fifty heads of cattle fed—he can’t wait till spring when they can be turned out to pasture, when half of them are sold off and the breeding season restarts. The cold, stand still winters drive him crazy on every ranch he’s ever worked, but this one more than most, because the cold is bone deep and there's you now, to drive him crazy in every possible direction.

When he’s done with the cattle, he takes inventory of the feed room, make’s a list to take with himself to town when the roads are cleared, then makes his way over to the stable. If there is one thing he can find solitude in, it’s snorting, fussing, grouchy ass horses early in the morning. They’ll kick at the stalls until he’s filled their feeders, snort cold air at him like they don’t want his company—he finds a lot of himself in the equine’s, misunderstood unless you get to know them like he has. He finds that his favorite place to be is in a saddle, pushing cattle through spring summer and fall, just him and them and all the trust in each other they have to offer.

Once they are fed, he finds his tack bucket and pulls open the stall to a young mare they’d bought last summer. She was ready to break this spring, but Hank had all but given up on the Morgan. So much so that he’d handed Joel her bridle one morning and told him “if you can get through to her, she’s all yours, son.”

She wasn’t a big horse, compared to others over her breed, but she had an untamable mane and tail that Joel has to keep braided or it becomes a rat's nest. She’s all over the place, spooky with a fear of water that Joel can't seem to help her get over. For such a pretty little Palomino, she sure has a lot of fight in her.

“Hey, pissy girl.” He hums when she flicks her tail at him, pulling her head out of her feeder just long enough to look back at him. He’s been the only person she lets in the stall since they got her, the only person who can give her a good brush down and stand behind her without getting a hoof to the chest. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? I had stuff to do before I could bring you guys breakfast. Besides, you’re gettin’ fat.” He pats her on her flank, watches dust come up under his hand. He starts brushing her down when he hears the stable doors come open. He knows it's not Tommy, because he’s in the north field checking on the heifers who are getting ready to calf. They still have a few more weeks, but it's good to keep track in the middle of the kind of storms they’ve been getting. The last thing they need is losing a calf to this kind of cold.

“Joel? You in here?” It’s Hanks booming voice in the desolate stable. “Yeah, I’m in here Hank!” He sets down the brush and steps out of the stall because he knows Hank won't come in it. “I was tryin’ to find you before my daughter did. She been through here yet?” His stomach drops and curls—did she tell him? About the argument they had on his porch last night? That he was drunk off his ass drowning his emotions like he always has? “I don’t know what she might have…told you, but it was at home—the cows were good, animals fed, I wasn’t—“ Hank makes a face and shakes his head. “Son, I ain’t mad at you for nothin’. I told her you’re allowed to have a few drinks when you’re done with your work. She can be very…aggravating, if anyone knows that it's me. I just wanted to apologize before she comes in a raging ball of fire because shes embarrassed about her shoes.”

Embarrassed? She’s embarrassed about walking around in those boots that make her ass look like it was sculpted by gods? Those damn shoes that can get him hard in an instant? “She’s embarrassed about them?”

Hank cracks a soft smile and puts his hands on his hips. “Most of that fire comes from a hurt place. She's all bark and no bite—“ Joel scoffs. “She just about bit my head off last night. I might have said some things I shouldn’t have.” Hank has always been understanding and kind the entire time Joel has known him. “I know, we talked about it. She said I need new ranch hands and I told her I don’t trust anyone to run this ranch but you. Don’t worry, I won't let her run you off. I really thought college would set her straight, but she’s still got that stubborn attitude of hers. Just—keep yourself busy and she’ll give up eventually. Don’t be afraid to defend yourself, either. I’m not going to get mad at you for standing up to her.”

Its more of a relief than he thought it would be to hear Hank stick up for him. You must have ran home to tattle on him, but knowing Hank has his back eases the anxiousness built up in him from the night before. “Anyways…when you see her, maybe Tommy can take her to get her things until we can get her car out, so she can get off of everyones back.” It’s going to have to be Tommy—there's no way in hell Joel can handle being in a car with her by himself with his current situation. “Absolutely, thank you Hank.” The man heads out the door with a genuine smile. “Don’t be too late for breakfast! Louise made fresh jam.”

Breakfast sounds like a dream to his empty stomach, so he gets back to the task at hand so he can spare himself a few minutes of downtime to eat before he gets back to work. He steps back into the stall, runs his hand across the top of his horse's back and sighs. “Maybe I should cut her some slack, huh Cersei? You’re kind of a bitch, but you’re still my favorite girl.” The horse nickers at him, flicks her tail and waits patiently for him to get back to brushing out her winter coat.

———

It’s breakfast when he finally sets eyes on you again, but you aren’t in those damn shoes—you’re barefoot like that's somehow any better. You’re barefoot in what looks like an old pair of your pajamas, like you just rolled out of bed when it’s already eight in the morning. “Look what the cat dragged in.” You sneer at him a little when he sits down across from you with his plate. Tommy hasn’t made it inside yet and Hank and Louise are in the living-room after they’ve already finished eating.

“I’ve been up for hours, what were you doing? Cant learn to manage a ranch if you sleep until eight in the morning.” Joel feels like he has the upper hand, and based on the look on your face, you know it too. “That’s what I have you for, to do all the grunt shit I don’t want to. I slept like a baby.” Joel on the other hand tossed and turned all night, willing away his morning wood for hours until he finally gave in and wrapped his hand around himself in the dark of his room under his soft quilt, where your prying eyes couldn’t reach.

It’s the only damn thing keeping him from chubbing up in his jeans, looking at you across the table in a pair of sleep shorts that ride up and leave little to his imagination. He thinks about how easy it would be to pull them aside and slip his fingers through your lips—if he would be able to get you wet. It’s enough to get him excited, so he tries to find a way out before it becomes too big of a problem.

“Where are you going?” He looks down at his plate, devising a plan to leave with it, so he can at least finish his breakfast. “Uhm…I have a lot to do today, figured I would get back to it while the day is young.” You push your chair back and stand as well, Joel’s eyes must have a mind of their own because they track up your bare thighs to the bottom of your shorts that have ridden up so much the fabric is pulled tight along the outline of your center—goddamn he can fucking see your pussy. He makes a sharp sound, choking on the spit building up in his mouth as it waters.

“You aren’t doing anything until you get my car out, you hear me? I’m not walking around another second like this.” You gesture to yourself—Joel couldn’t agree more. You need to wear clothes that fit you if he wants to keep his dick to himself. “Tommy is going to take you, he’ll be in soon.” You shake your head at him with a huff. “No, I don’t want Tommy taking me, he’s not the one responsible for leaving my car in the snow. You are getting my car out.”

He wants to argue some more, but arguing with you makes him horny and the last thing he needs is to be that worked up in a car with you for an extended period of time.

“Fuck—alright, fine—give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you at the truck.”

It’s a shit ass excuse to run back to the cabin and spend ten minutes jacking off as fast as he can fucking manage so he can control himself in the truck. It’s a futile attempt to control the way Hanks spitfire of a daughter makes him hotter than the surface of the sun.

You are going to be the death of him.

#cowboy joel miller #cowboy joel #cowboy au #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel tlou #enemies to lovers #set in Wyoming #dbf joel miller

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leilani-lily · 2 months

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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 1)

... So this idea for an Alastor x reader (kinda?) story popped in my brain, and has refused to leave me no matter how hard I try.

Have I written fanfiction recently? Hell no.

Do I even know how to write for an AroAce character? No but I'm gonna do my damndest to represent him properly (and also relying on outer sources so I'm not offending anyone).

Do I feel like a complete fool for being sucked back into the fanfiction world and re-entering with a freakin Hazbin Hotel fic? ABSOOOO-FREAKIN-LUTELY.

But here we are. The writing gods have spoken. And they have declared that I write this story out so my poor brain can focus on other things like work.

Figured I'd share so it's just not on my computer all lonely. Will be a slow burn so fair warning. Let's be real, the deer boi needs love. But not overly romantic love. Just, someone he ends up really caring about and becoming his favourite.

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. The hotel is looking to hire a chef to prepare meals for the staff/guests. Somehow you're hired and you begin your new life. And somehow end up becoming close to a certain Radio Demon. Word Count: 1.8 K

Chapter 1 under the cut. Enjoy I guess? ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ok, deep breaths y/n. Remember to smile.

You felt your lips curl up into a strained grin as if to fight off the nerves in your chest, your grip tightening on the flyer in your fist. This could go either two ways. One, you get the job and are able to live a life of somewhat normality. Or two, you get hung from the tippy top of the building by your own intestines. With your legs chopped off. And one of your arms sticking out of your ass.

Gotta love Hell and it’s creative subjects.

You shake your head out of those terrible thoughts, surely it wouldn’t be that bad?? When you saw the original broadcast on the 666 News, you couldn’t stop thinking how nice the Princess of Hell actually was. And building an entire hotel to help her subjects reform into something better was, perhaps a little optimistic in your opinion, but it made you admire her gumption and her love for her subjects.

So later when you found the flyer in search of a chef at the very same establishment the princess was hoping to fill… well, it somehow managed to get you all the way here. Standing at the doorsteps of the very lonely looking hotel on the hill.

You had to admit it wasn’t the look you had imagined, but hey, this was Hell. You had seen worse. And everyone has to start somewhere. Including yourself, arm still poised ready to knock yet not yet making the motion.

You felt so stupid, you had been standing here for almost 10 minutes now just trying to get the courage to enter the damn building. You sigh to yourself and shake out the jitters. Alright, let’s just do this. Once again, you smile, puff out your chest and raise your arm high in the air, ready to strike with a newfound courage.

“Well folks, looks like the little lady is finally ready to take the leap! Will she follow through with her actions? Or will she choke and back out of the fight? Let’s tune in and find out~”

You felt your heart nearly leap out of your chest as you whip your head around to look behind you. A tall demon clad in red and ruby eyes stood behind you, a wickedly wide grin filling his face as he points what appears to be a microphone in your direction. You stare at it dumbly, then make eye contact with him again. He remains poised, half lidded eyes seeming to hold a sparkle of impish joy. His eyes flicker from you, to your raised arm, and back to you. After a embarrassingly long time of connecting the dots, you finally extend your arm closer to the door, never breaking focus on the demon behind you (you can't help but notice he raises his microphone even closer to you), and give the door a good solid knock.

“AND SHE’S DONE IT FOLKS, what a display!!” He pulls the microphone back to himself, as you continue to stare dumbfounded “The form, the elegance, it could almost make a grown Imp cry. Let's give her a hand people.” He begins to clap as a roar of applause plays from… somewhere.

You couldn’t tell if this guy was being sarcastic or genuine, but the whole absurdity of it all, plus the bundle of nerves you were feeling earlier, seemed to bubble up inside of you and you couldn't help a little snort escape. The red demon’s grin widened as he ceases his clapping, stepping closer to you as you continue to giggle.

“Ahhh now isn’t that better. A much nicer smile than the one you were faking earlier. Besides, there’s no need to be so shy my dear. This hotel is always happy to accept wayward demons looking for reformation!”

Upon hearing his words, you turn to face him and put your hands up “Oh nono, I’m not here to-”

“Ohoho~! and what’s this you have here?” Before you can finish your sentence, the tall demon ripped the flyer out of your hand and inspected it quickly, before turning back to you. His half-lidded gaze was now round with surprise, his grin becoming even wider (which you didn’t even think was possible).

“So THAT explains the nerves from before! And here I was just thinking you were a timid little thing. But a business woman! Now that I can admire.” He smiles at you almost impressed and leans in closer, your noses almost touching.

“Tell me my dear, can you make a good jambalaya? Or perhaps a hearty gumbo with cornbread on the side~?”

You were so flustered with the speed of everything happening (plus the close proximity of this demon you had just met certainly didn’t help). All you could manage was a jumbled “Uhh, well yes I-!”

“WONDERFULLLL~!" He straightens up again and you sigh with relief. “I’ll be sure to test you on such skills. But for now we should-”

The front doors of the hotel suddenly burst open and a short gray female stands before you, with long silvery hair and an eyepatch. She looks at you for a moment, before turning her gaze at the red demon and giving him a scowl.

“Alastor, what the HELL took you so long, you should’ve been back ages ago. And quit creeping out new potential clients.” Her gaze adverts back to you, expression softening ever so slightly, “Seriously, if he’s bothering you-” “Oh Vaggie my dear, no need to be so hostile. I was simply going over business with our newest chef!” he brings his long fingers up behind your shoulder and pulls you in close against his chest, making you yelp a moment before regaining composure. You could sense this so-called 'Vaggie' demon tense, eyes flickering between the two of you. You felt as if your brain was sputtering to catch up with the current conversation (he WORKS here??!) before finally realizing what he had just called you. You sneak a look at him, and he gives you a quick wink before focusing back on the female before him.

“Now be a doll and have Nifty tidy up one of the rooms, preferably one of a reasonable size and close to the kitchen. And call upon Charlie as well, she’ll DEFINITELY want to meet our newest addition!”

The female in front of you shot a glare at Alastor (you quickly noted these two did not seem to get along), but then flicked her gaze back at you. After a moment, she sighed and turned back into the building as she followed the male demon’s orders. You couldn’t help but notice how Alastor’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly as a chuckle escaped his lips, static humming ever so louder in amusement. He himself began to walk into the hotel, guiding you along with him.

"Now then. We’ll have to introduce you to everyone, as well as get you to fill in the proper paperwork, give you a proper tour of the place and-!”

“Wait wait,” you stop walking, causing him to halt. You notice a slight twitch in his eye and his hand squeezes you for a moment. He doesn’t like to be interrupted, duly noted. You take a breath.

“Sorry, uh for interrupting” That seemed to please him. “But does this mean… I got the job?? You don’t need a resume or a test or…?”

Alastor let out a guffaw of amusement “Why of course my dear! As long as you remain true to your word of being able to cook a good New Orleans dish, that’s all the proof I’ll need! There hasn’t been many a demon coming here interested in the job, so I say your timing couldn’t be more perfect!”

Well that was the easiest damn interview you’ve ever done. You felt yourself exhale a sigh of relief as you smile up to the tall demon.

“Wow, that’s… that’s amazing, thank you so much.” He gave you a half lidded smirk, clearly enjoying being praised “So… does this make you my boss, Mr…?”

You heard the sound of a record screech as his eyes widened in surprise. Hand finally leaving your shoulder and placing it on his own chest he began to laugh heartilly, a laugh track playing in the background. You stood there confused for a moment before he finally responded.

“Ohhh my goodness me, my mother would be rolling in her grave if she ever heard about this. How rude of me to be so forward without properly introducing myself!” One minute he was standing right beside you, and then the next he had sunken like a shadow into the floor, only to appear in front of you a few steps ahead. With grace and suave you didn’t realize he possessed, he gave a small hand flourish before bowing in front of you.

“I am Alastor, also known as the Radio Demon. I happen to be the Hotel’s Facility Manager, but you’ll find Miss Morningstar is the real ringleader around here,” You notice the corner of his lip twitch at that last remark, but you pay no mind to it. “If you ever have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to reach out to me.” You smile and dip yourself in your own little curtsy as he straightens up.

“My name is y/n, and I’ll be sure to do my best to serve you and this hotel, sir.” Alastor seemed to hum with approval as he looks down at you. “I guess I just have one more question for you, if that’s alright.”

“Why of course dear y/n, whatever would it be?”

“Well, I uh…” You feel yourself becoming flustered at the question, and the radio demon seemed to notice. Cocking a head to the side, he takes a step forward, opening his arms into a friendly gesture.

“Come now dearest, you can ask me anything! If we’re going to be working together, we have to be honest with each other~” You look up at him and sigh, knowing he was right. With a gulp you straighten your back and wear a serious expression.

“How long did you see me standing by the door?”

Alastors face didn’t waver, it was hard to tell what was going on in his mind. Then his smile grew into what looked like an amused, smug expression before answering.

“The whole time.”

You groaned and felt your head slap against your hand, making Alastor burst into laughter yet again at your expense. He was there watching the entire time?? Satan’s Ass you felt like such an idiot. Was he waiting for you to move so he could get in the building?? The more you thought about it the more you wanted to sink into the floor and die, for a 2nd time. The radio demon wiped a stray tear from his eye.

“Ohhhh y/n, what a riot you are. I can already tell that this is going to be fun~”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

First chapter hoorayyy ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡ Not sure how often I'll be updating, hopefully soon as I'm currently inspired. Thanks for reading thus far!FIRST (You're here!) PREVIOUS (Doesn't exist ( • ᴗ - ) ✧) NEXT

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #oh deer #leilani-lily

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 3 months

Text

Best and Worst of both worlds (part 7)

Tw: vomiting, sick reader, implications that the housemates r jerks before, imo boring chapter just some comfort for sickness times

Vote the poll down below n im gonna start making the next part after 20 votes

part 8

You can barely get out of bed.

That means you didn't get to clean up your post-exam clutter. Making the entire room miserable and almost unhabitable. You couldn't sleep because you had a terrible fever, needing to eat a couple of paracetamols to cool yourself down.

Anything that goes in your mouth comes back up. You wouldn't want to waste your food anymore, so you simply stopped eating.

You woke up to loud knocking, borderline banging on your door and to the voice of your housemate. She's yelling about someone being here to see you.

That can't be right. Why would anyone want to visit you? You're not asking this in a self depreciating way, but in a logical sense where you knew no one knew you're suffering from food poisoning.

Except...

Realization dawns upon you when you hear a series of softer knocks. You heard Yves's muffled voice from the outside, asking you to open the door for him.

You checked your phone. It's four in the afternoon. He should still be at the library, why is he here?

Then your focus went to the notification banner about the four missed calls he left.

"(Name)? It's Yves. You haven't been answering my calls. I'm worried about you."

The last person you want to see now is goddamn fucking Yves. Yesterday already took a toll on you, having him over is going to worsen the illness- if the fever didn't fry your brain, the stress would.

You refused to answer, covering your head with your pillow as he continued to knock.

Eventually though, he stopped. The walls are thin so you could hear him ask your housemate about you. She said you were hurling all night, keeping everyone awake. They witnessed you trying to eat a cooked packet of instant noodles, but you immediately threw it all up the moment you swallowed a forkful.

"I see." You hear him reply. "May I see the kitchen?" He asked.

She was taken aback by the request, a kitchen shared by 7 other students isn't going to be the cleanest. There was a pause before she told him that it was messy.

"That does not matter." He responded. You heard a sigh and she verbally told him to go ahead.

You're sure he knows what the condition of it is. He was there yesterday for the trash bags. You wonder what business he has there.

When you hear him walk away from your bedroom door, you force yourself and your aching muscles to creep out of your room. Planning to eavesdrop on his conversation.

"Is this all they eat?" His voice echoed through the hallway.

"Yes. I literally have never seen them eat anything else. Maybe the occasional cold pizza slice or two, but that's it. I don't think they even own a frying pan. Sometimes I wonder how that bastard is still alive." Ouch. A simple Yes would suffice. Why did she have to air your dirty laundry like that?

You heard the fridge open.

"Yeah, this was supposed to be their side of the fridge, but it was always empty. So we used it as a spare." Yves hummed in response.

You rushed back into your room when you heard his heels begin to strike the floor. Quietly shutting the door and tucking yourself into your bed.

Perhaps he's giving up, you're not coming out of your-

You stared wide eyed as the knob twisted by itself.

You forgot to lock your door. Shit, you fucking forgot to lock your door.

You heard one last set of calm knocking and Yves voice: "(name), I'm coming in."

He pushed it open and you see his tall, slender frame coming into view. His hair is flowy and luscious as usual, clear skin and pristine makeup on his beautiful face. While you look like crap. And your room looks like crap, you can barely see the floor.

You gape at the square of translucent hydrocolloid dressing on the back of his hand. Looks like his burn yesterday started to blister.

"Damn! You live like this?" Your housemate expressed her disbelief when her eyes landed on the clothes, indiscernible between used and washed, strewn all over the place. The opened drawers and stacks of empty cups.

You hid under your blanket, you told her to shut up and get the fuck out of your room.

"Alright, you're a grump cause you're sick. But just so you know, you're still on garbage duty this week." She responded.

You groan, telling her that you knew that already. You told her to go away. But she doesn't respect you, none of your housemates do.

"Could you excuse us, please?" Yves politely dismissed her. She agrees and leaves your room immediately. Yves closes the door to maintain some privacy.

You remained hidden under the sheets, not wanting him to see you so vulnerable.

"You poor thing." He sighed. You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge. He gently peeled the blanket off your head, using the other hand to stroke your hair.

"You haven't eaten today, have you?" The fingers running through your grimy hair was... comforting. Too comforting, perhaps. You involuntarily started tearing up and crying, being reminded of a simpler time in your life. It brought back the feelings of security and safety, which you haven't felt in such a long while. You forgot how it felt, and it felt extremely good.

He stopped his caresses, but rested his hand on your scalp.

You told him you didn't mean to weep. You had no idea what has gotten into you. However, you're sure you're crying because of the state of your room and how two people had to see it- which includes someone with opinions you value very much: Yves.

He continued his affectionate touches as tears kept falling from your eyes.

No further words were exchanged between the two of you. Yves kept you company until you fell asleep from his rhythmic stroking. He pressed a kiss on your forehead before standing back up.

Yves sets his bag on your bed, he gets to work picking up stray articles of clothing from the floor. He dropped them all into your laundry basket in a messy pile.

Yves picked it up with no effort and carried it on his hip. He left your room and headed towards the basement, where the dryers and washing machines are kept. He knows where it is despite no one ever telling him.

You woke up with a jolt, thinking that Yves intruding your room was just a crazy fever dream.

Except, the presence of his unique luxury bag is right next to you. Scanning your surroundings, you definitely can tell Yves made his mark here.

You can see the floor again, you didn't know that it's that shiny and clean. All your clothes are missing and the corners are clear of any old trash. Everything you own is organized neatly, the shelves are displaying their respective categories in order. Your desk was wiped down and your textbooks arranged by colour.

Your room is unrecognizable, it wasn't even this nice when you first moved in.

Yves is nowhere to be found. You weakly got up and dragged yourself to the door. Locking yourself in and Yves out.

You always wondered what is in that bag. It seems to be carrying an impossible amount of items. Though, he uses a briefcase for his laptop and notes on weekdays, it's impressive that he managed to fit an umbrella in this small bag among other things.

You opened it and began rummaging through.

A lipstick, a compact mirror, disposable wet wipes, a hydrating facial spray, dry facial tissues, a hairbrush, his phone, a tin of breath mints, his oddly thin wallet- it made sense, the rich wouldn't carry around wads of cash. Only cards; An army Swiss knife, bandaids, a rectangle of a foldable grocery bag...

A set of keys attached to his car fob, a pen, some unidentifiable medication; it's printed in a foreign language, a case containing his reading glasses, another case that contains his sunglasses, portable eating utensils, a bottle of hand sanitizer, disinfectant spray, a power bank, charging cables, a portable fan, a hand fan, electronic ear buds, ear plugs...

Your jaw dropped in disbelief as you kept finding more things; perfume, a scrunchie, a couple of hair ties, sun screen, ointment, his reusable stainless steel thermal cup, lip balm, a face mask, portable paper soap, a stack of sticky notes and of course, an umbrella.

You dug deeper and found out that he's also hiding a scarf in there!

All that with heaps of space to spare, it doesn't look bulky from outside or in. You tried lifting it up by the handles, but it felt like you were trying to lift a barbell with one hand. It was bizarre how he could find what he wanted in the nick of time with all these things. Granted, it was neatly partitioned before you searched through it- oh. You messed up his system.

Shit! You're going to embarrass yourself again!

Well, you still have time. The door is locked and he isn't here yet, you could try putting it back.

You heard the door knob rattle. That must be him, he can't possibly get in right?

Your blood turned to ice when you heard the jingling of some keys. Of course, it's Yves. He would know to take your own keys with him. You heard him unlock your door.

You panicked and tried to hop out of bed, so you could barricade the door with something. But while doing so, you knocked the bag off the bed and made the contents of it spill out.

You let out a distressed yelp, his ten million things spread out all over the floor, some rolled under your bed.

"Did I startle you? I apologize." He came in with a laundry basket filled with freshly washed clothes. They're dry and warm to the touch. The basket looks noticeably clean too. Did he scrub it down? The dust and mold are gone, it went back to looking brand new.

You began apologizing, saying that you didn't mean to knock his bag down. You saw that as a potential escape from getting caught snooping around.

"No, it was my fault to leave it near the edge. It was bound to fall." He set the basket down and calmly began picking his belongings off the floor.

You let out a discrete sigh of relief. You're off the hook.

But obviously he knows what you did. His scarf shouldn't even be out of his bag, as he packed it at the bottom. His keys, lipstick and wallet should be the first to leave, yet it remained safely in the toppled bag because you flipped everything upside down while being a nosy person.

Plus, it was zipped up in the first place.

If he didn't want you peering in, he would have hidden it under your bed.

You got down on your knees and helped him collect the items. You dumped it back into the handbag, but Yves nonchalantly pulled it all back out to organize them himself.

"Thank you." He stood back up and securely placed it on your nightstand.

He turned to you and crowded you against the bed. Yves slid his hands under your chin, where the pulse is, checking your temperature by touch. You flinch and squirm because you're ticklish, but he paid no mind to it.

"You're having a fever." He noted. You release a baited breath when he lets you go, reaching for something inside his handbag.

You watch him unscrew the lid of his thermos cup. There isn't any particular Colour to the liquid. But there was a faint fruity scent emanating from it. The ice cubes bob around the mystery fluid. He also produced a metal straw which he plunged into the drink, you must have missed it when you were rummaging through.

He popped two tablets of paracetamol out of a blister pack and brought them to your lips. It's better to just let him feed you, so you took it in your mouth.

"Take small sips." He brought the straw to you.

The beverage is... salty. And sweet. It's sickeningly fragrant for a drink that's supposed to be enjoyable. Except it's not, it's an electrolyte solution he prepared to make up for the ones you lost. The coldness saved it.

You didn't realize how thirsty you were, he placed the cup in your hands before walking back to the laundry hamper. He opened a drawer and began folding your clothes into a neat stack.

You're starting to think he just likes silence. He has a perfectly functioning pair of expensive earbuds, but he doesn't use them neither does he want to initiate a conversation with you.

You put your drink away and flopped down onto your bed. You picked up your phone and decided to check your notifications.

You received a number of messages from the group chat with your housemates.

"(name) u gotta get ur bestie to visit more cuz this is the cleanest the kitchen has ever been!!!"

Attached to it is a series of before and after pictures of the entire house. You almost couldn't recognize the place, it was tidy and sparkling clean.

The rest of your housemates agreed in text, telling you that he was such a pleasant conversationalist.

"oh ya idk if hes still here but he made a massive pot of congee for u, its a fuckin banger u should try it" "Damn u lucky as hel to have him take out da trash on ur behalf, that shit was nasty and he did it without gloves too" "His car is still outside, he has got to be here." "oh shiiiittt hes gotta be LOADEDDD with a hot ride like that. where did u find him??" "Omg!! I need his recipe!! Can you ask him for it, pretty please, (name)? Maybe his number too??" "lawlz not u being hornyz on main" "lmaoo fuckin simp" "im not!! :(( he's just so sweet and handsome, im not stealing their man or anything, i just wanna get to know him!! you guys are just mean!!" "whatever u say president desperate"

You read all their text messages that devolved into banterings, looks like all your housemates know him now. You wonder what he talked about with them. What was there to talk about?

You were brought back to reality when you heard him shut the draw. He left your room once more to retrieve something.

Your phone pinged, alerting you of another text message.

"BRUH hes really still here"

Shortly after, you received a picture taken in the kitchen. Looks like the photographer tried to be subtle from its angle.

The photo showed Yves's back as he scoops something from a pot into a bowl, using a metal ladle.

"shit (name) how did u pull such a fine man It's literally 9pm rn" "What time did he come here tho?? Ik i came home at 6 and i saw him mopping the floor" "like 4pm" "FIVE HOURS ?? (NAME) TELL UR BESTIE HES WELCOME HERE ANYTIME WE WILL OPEN THE DOOR FOR HIM"

At least they seem to be less of pricks to you than before, all thanks to Yves. But it's such a shame that it took a good-looking servicing stranger to get them to act nice towards you.

"(Name), you have to eat something." You looked up from your cracked screen to see Yves holding a bowl of steamy congee. He pulled the chair from your desk and sat next to your bed.

"Sit up straight." He caressed the small of your back. You complied with his command while he stacked your pillows to make a backrest.

It has a mild, pleasantly savoury aroma.

He fed you by the spoonful agonizingly slow, you're horrified that you're now used to this gesture. It isn't something you feel flustered about, it just feels... right. It feels normal and it's as if he's done this for your entire life.

You're getting more comfortable with him and that scares the fuck out of you.

You're surprised that it's not making you want to hurl, the meal is actually bettering your stomach and you wanted to eat more even after finishing the entire bowl. It's definitely bland in your dictionary, since it's only seasoned with salt, pepper and freshly made chicken stock. But it was heavenly. And its the only thing you can stomach now.

You asked for more. You were shocked when your request is denied.

"You're full. You are going to vomit if I give you more. That's enough for now, I'll give you another bowl an hour later." He dabbed the corners of your mouth with a facial tissue.

You froze.

He is right. You are full. You wanted more because it tasted great, but you would have thrown it all up again.

It's eerie how he knows you better than you know yourself. And this is only the third time you have spoken to him. This doesn't seem right, does it?

Yves left your room once more to keep the dishes away. Predictably, the group chat blew up with astonished reactions that Yves appeared right before their eyes again.

You massaged your forehead, wondering if you should have been a bit more firm in saying no to Yves. But he just makes you so weak against him.

You checked the time and the digits turned from 9:59pm to 10:00pm.

It's getting very late.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc yves #oc Montgomery

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lively-potter · 3 months

Text

— trials of athena ; two

— genre ; enemies to lovers, kinda slow burn, friends to lovers

— warnings ; a hella lot of cursing, some typos ( of course 🙄😬 ), mature themes, smut, athena doesn’t like feelings, fluff, smut, angst, some violence, a teeny bit of blood and gore, JK’s a dick fr

— intro, teaser, part one

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— word count ; 1.5k

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

— chapter two ; a continuum of bad choices

♡

May 21st, 2023 9 PM

"Huh, what made you decide to call after leaving me on fucking open for three hours, bitch?" Sawyer hollered through the phone, making me yelp.

"Ow, you cabbage head! You scared the hell out of me." I whined, pressing my hand to my ear – risking a glare out my window.

Sawyer snickered, "Well, I am naturally terrifying."

"—No, you're not." I retorted dryly, "You act like a kicked puppy most of the time."

My reply had Sawyer huffing and puffing on the other line.

"Fine, I'll let you have that one, cunt."

"Hoe."

"Proud of it!" He swung back, causing me to laugh. My best friend Sawyer never failed to make me laugh when I was pissed, sad, or depressed. "So, what brings you here?"

"A continuum of bad choices and a neighbor that I want to shank." I sighed, throwing myself down on my pillow when Sawyer tutted. "He's such an asshole," I grunted, still thoroughly bothered by the daft beaver nugget next door.

"Spill." Sawyer ordered brightly – he, like my mom (and me) loved to hear all the latest gossip. With a sigh, I told him every little detail of this morning, and I definitely didn't forget to add the part where the mothereffer was half naked.

"Soooo....lemme get this straight; this dude – although fine as fuck and looked like he was created specially in God's image – was rude and slammed the door in your face?"

"Yep," I giggled, sounds about right. "and I can't forget to add that the bastard's bedroom is across from mine." I spoke suddenly, remembering I saw that bitch next door making his bed up. Gosh, I needed to stop spying out my window...until he got curtains, of course.

"At least you have the privacy film on your windows at home." Sawyer chuckled, "maybe you'll get lucky and see his dick next time."

My face flushed heavily, "Ew! Ohmygod! Sawyer, you nasty little bitch." I squealed out a loud giggle, wishing more than anything he was back in the states.

Sawyer left a month ago with Raven (one of his dads) to Russia for father/son bonding. I missed him desperately – but apparently, he'll be back home soon.

Sawyer sighed lowly, "Dude, I wish I was back home so I can get a look at this handsome bastard. Do you think he's gay?" he asked wistfully.

My eyes widened, "I don't know! I don't make assumptions like that; plus, why would you want to date that ass?" I asked, kicking my shoes off my feet, and sitting up.

"From what you told me about him, he'd be a good fuck." He laughed; I imagined my crazy bestie shrugging his shoulders.

"How do you know what a good fuck is, bitch? You're a virgin... but he definitely would be – he's got a lot of piercings; you think he's got his you-know-what pierced?" I asked, biting down on my lip as wild thoughts raced through my brain. I don't know why I was telling him this, but Sawyer was my other half, I could talk to him about anything.

"C'mon babe, don't be a prude." Sawyer mocked, "It's called a cock."

"Shut the hell up," I choked out through my embarrassment. A noise down below distracted me from Sawyer's howling laughter. My lips parted when I crawled across my bed, knees digging into my pillows to peer out the window.

And there he was.

I watched my insanely attractive neighbor dressed in jeans, big black combat boots and a black oversized hoodie lock his door and jog to his sleek black Mercedes.

Sawyer's voice grew muffled in my ears as my neighbor turned and looked up. A squeak left my lips when his eyes looked in the direction of my window.

"Shit." I scrambled away from the window before stopping shot. "Wait a fuckin' minute..." I mumbled, crawling back towards my window, "He can't see me." I murmured, now remembering I had a privacy film over my window.

Quite a handy thing to have, they can't see in, but you can see through it.

I'm kinda nosey (not in a bad way, I hope).

"Hold on just a wee bit, Sawyer." I called, "the dickwad next door just left." I said, seeing him jump in his car and drive off.

I backed away from my window and picked my phone up.

"Sorry 'bout that, what were you saying?" I asked, resuming my conversation with Sawyer.

"I wonder where he's headed off to so late." Sawyer mused causing me to roll my eyes playfully.

"Don't know, don't care."

(I was lying to myself)

*** May 22nd, 2023

3:15 AM

The loud thumping of a door closing from next door roused me from my sleep.

Cursing myself for being such a light sleeper, I rolled over and threw my weighted blanket back over my head and closed my eyes once more; hoping sleep would claim me once more.

Minutes passed; I was snoozing once more.

...until drunken giggle (more like a shriek) startled me once more.

Ugh, shut up and lemme sleep...

My thoughts became jumbled as I breathed deeply, on the precipice of falling into a deeper slumber.

The stumbling of drunken feet grew louder and louder, as if they were nearing me, until a door flew open and banged against the wall in the house next to mine. My eyes flew open and darkened in anger once I realized the annoying noises and fuckin' giggling next door wouldn't be stopping anytime soon.

"Sweet daughter of Zeus." I mumbled, flinging off my warm blanket off my body and stumbling to my feet. My brain was half awake and half alert when I nearly tripped over my phone charger.

"Owwww!"

"Shit. Fuck. Damn it," I hissed, doubling over in absolute agony as my pinky toe caught the edge of my bedframe. I fell down on my ass – momentarily forgetting the shuffling next door – to cradle my throbbing toe.

"Stupid fucking neighbors." I huffed, carefully getting to my feet, wincing once I applied pressure to my foot. I paced for a second until the pain wore off and wiped the sleep out of my eyes.

A tired groan left my lips as I pressed a knee on my bed, leaned over my bedframe and peered out my bedroom window, into the one across from mine.

One glance was all it took for every ounce of exhaustion to leave my body. All that was left was shocked, mortification, and disgust (with a slight sprinkle of envy, but I'd die before I would ever admit it).

I was unable to tear my eyes away as I witnessed a gorgeous woman with long blonde hair and tan legs that seemed to go on for miles fall down onto her knees in front of my neighbor.

Wut. The. Fucking. Hell.

A embarrassed squeak left my lips and I threw a hand over my innocent eyes to shield myself from this display.

Ohmygod.

I had never seen anything like this in my life.

Slowly, I peeked through my parted fingers and choked.

And nearly die as I watched my hotter than the sun neighbor ruffle his hands through his dark hair and peer down at his lady of the night. I watched, transfixed on his face as his mouth parted and he started speaking, I watched his lips open and move as he pronounced each syllable.

Gods, I wanted to know what he was saying.

But I kinda got the gist of what he had said when the lady immediately went into action and started unzipping his tight pants that clung to his rock-solid thighs. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't look away.

My dickwad neighbor peered down at her with a dirty little smirk, as he was enjoying the way she was entirely at his mercy. I gulped when he bit down on his lip – the silver hoops threaded through his lips made the action even more attractive.

WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME????

LOOK AWAY YOU STUPID BITCH.

THIS IS A VIOLATION OF PRIVACY.

But why! Just why was my dickwad neighbor getting a BJ in front of his fucking window? A window without curtains concealing his gorgeous body from view. A squeak left my lips once his pants were to his knees...along with his boxers.

And then his you-know-what was out in the open...for all eyes to see.

I almost choked to death on my spit as I saw the fucking beast he had concealed underneath his clothes.

It was fucking huge. The biggest I've ever seen.

I pitied the poor girl next door.

He'd tear her in two.

A glint of silver caught my eye and I had enough.

I flew away in an instant and tripped over myself to get to my bed.

I threw the blanket over my head and grabbed at my phone. Once it was in my hands, I cringed at the brightness and immediately turned it down.

With trembling fingers, I tapped on Sawyer's contact and waited for the bitch to answer.

"Yo."

"I was right! I was fucking right, Sawyer!"

"Ohhhh..." he hummed before stopping, "Wait. What were you right about again?" he asked, causing me to roll my eyes.

"That dick pickle neighbor of mine has got his dick pierced."

author’s note ; ✨

hi, everyone! Ihope you all had a great day! thanks for reading.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook x oc #bts fanfic #wattpad #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jungkook x original character #jungkook angst #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #jjk #jeongguk #jungkookie

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lovebillyhargrove · 11 months

Text

Billy's Camaro fic. Chapter 16

***

Ever since he started having all these vague feelings about Hargrove, Steve has never thought that it would lead anywhere. That they would actually end up kissing each other like two drunk teenagers in love, absolutely indecent and steamy, lost in lust, uncaring of the world spinning around them. He has also never imagined that their lips would fit so perfectly well, interlocked in the most natural way, just like they've found home on each other. Lock and key, turn, click, it's their place now.

Billy is kissing him, and the fast and savage has turned into slow and savouring, and it gets registered in his mush brain that they are both moaning, mmm fucking loving it, Hargrove's hand on Steve's crotch is burning his dick through the jeans, and Billy's applying just the right among of pressure, palming Steve, confidently, that smooth motherfucker, like he .. like he knows exactly what he is doing, and maybe .. okay maybe it's the dry spell, maybe it's the fact that Steve has been tiptoeing around dreaming of this moment for so long, or the fact that Steve was caught off guard with Billy showing up without a warning earlier today. Also, quite probably it's the undeniable truth that Hargrove is doing a damn good job kissing him and rolling that big hot palm, rubbing his dick in the way that makes Steve, well .. it's uh ..

It takes him only one minute to literally cream his pants.

His whole body jerks, pleasure waves knocking him over. He's slumping against the door, and Hargrove is still kissing him, no tongue, just kinda holding his lips on Steve's and smiling into the kiss.

Oh god, it is so embarrassing

He did not expect that

To be honest, he didn't expect anything just one hour ago

"Hey I'm .. " his voice is weak and unusually thin

"I think it was the fastest I've ever scored."

Steve's huffing out a nervous awkward laugh and Billy snorts. Steve's eyes are still closed and although the after feels great, he can't look Billy directly in those ice-blue eyes

"I uh .. I usually last longer than that."

"It's fine. We'll have time to explore how long you can hold out for."

No, it's fucking pathetic, and Steve just wants to sink through the floor right now, but Billy .. Billy's hand is now curled around his waist, and he's tickling Steve's ear with his hot breath, and .. he sounds like he means it, it's fine. There's nothing to be ashamed of, it happens. Even the snort wasn't mean.

Steve brings his hand to Hargrove's own visible bulge and tries to unzip the jeans, but Billy stops him mid-movement

"As much as I want it, pretty boy .. and I so want it .. but this stupid wound kinda hurts, and I'm just .. dead tired, I'll fall asleep on the rug here if I don't find a bed right this second."

"Oh of course .. of course!! I'm .. I'm so .. I'm sorry! Are you hungry? Do you want to take a shower? There's still your toothbrush and everything .."

"I'll just go straight to bed. It's tricky to take a shower with a bandage, I'm too tired for it now. And I am hungry, but I'm much more just .." - Billy's whole body is kinda laying on top of Steve, - "It was a long fucking drive. Where can I sleep?"

"Guest room? Or .. my bed? You can sleep in my bed?"

"Your bed."

"Okay."

Steve unglues himself from the door together with Hargrove on him. It feels wet and sticky in his underwear but it also feels amazing.

They go upstairs to Steve's room where Billy just takes off the jacket and jeans

and slides under the blanket in his t-shirt and underwear

"Fuuck, it's so good to finally be able to stretch like that."

He sighs contentedly and mumbles

"Night, Steve."

"Yeah .. good night."

It's six in the evening.

Billy's been on the road for thirty-three hours, did he actually stop? He couldn't have driven from California to Indiana without stopping, could he? It's physically impossible.

Steve's gonna ask all the questions tomorrow.

He goes to the shower and washes away his cum, still high on the ohmygodohmygod it's fucking real. Still bummed about the whole creaming his pants too fast incident. Dammit. Ugh.

***

Close to the morning Steve hears in his sleep like the mattress is shifting near him .. the bed becomes emptier .. he hears the distant sound of running water and then somewhere close to the time when his alarm usually goes off

There's heavy weight on the bed again, and someone's getting under the blanket and sliding his big hand all over Steve's side .. tenderly, slowly .. it is so gentle, but at the same time the hand is heavy, manly, it is so new .. there's the fresh smell of toothpaste and .. yeah it's coffee aroma in the air, and the hand is becoming more insistent, lifting Steve's t-shirt up, kneading his shoulder and back, dragging his underwear down and grabbing his ass cheek, stroking his thigh, down and up and .. oh god going for Steve's already hard dick - what was it, just a couple of seconds - and he's this hard ..? Again.

"I've started the coffee, pretty boy."

Billy's low voice

"Do you have to go to work today?"

"Mhmm .."

Steve's humming, eyes still closed, half asleep.

"It's so fucking hot that you're so easy for me. Look how hard you are already."

Billy is touching him, everywhere, tracing his fingers over Steve's balls and up his cock

"It's the hottest thing, you being so hard for me."

"So soft down there .."

Billy's palm is gently fondling his balls again

"And so hard up here .."

Slowly, torturously dragging the fingers up his dick

There's a wild thought flashing through Steve's still sleepy head that maybe it's all a dream. In this case, Steve doesn't want it to end

Billy's hand is again so sure - how can he be so unafraid ?? ..

It's all about these flesh-scorching sensations in Steve's feverish mind. Feather-like touches, finger taking precome from the slit and spreading it all over the head of his dick, same finger toying with the hem .. a little bit of squeezing, a little bit of loving, circling, circling with maddening consistency

Steve wants to sob in his pillow

"Stop teasing me, Hargrove."

"Do you have any lube?"

"I don't .. nngh .. I don't have any."

Billy spits in his palm and wraps it around him

"This will have to do then."

It feels so filthy, Steve loves it

He loves Hargrove's large hand around his dick

Billy's whispers and moans pour like molten iron in Steve's ear

"You're so hard for me, Harrington .. so fucking easy .."

Hargrove jerks Steve off, his own dick pressing on Steve's ass cheeks, he's humping his ass, breath heavy and sultry

It builds and it builds, and it grows, the pleasure in Steve's lower abdomen, in his balls, ready to explode and flood all his body with bliss

He's fucking into Billy's fist, messily

Until it rips through him, and he cums with a groan all over the bed and his belly and Billy's fist.

Just a couple of minutes later Billy follows

shooting his hot cum on Steve's back, panting sweatily into his neck, and oh my god, if it's not the hottest sensation he's ever felt

This time he did last more than one minute, at least.

Billy's body is relaxed against Steve's and Steve just wants to sleep more, just like that, together, covered in cum - why isn't it gross? Because it isn't, it feels so good

But at this moment his alarm clock goes off

"Damn it!"

He smashes it in frustration and whines

"Don't wanna get up."

When suddenly

Someone's pounding at the door downstairs. Steve's eyelids fly open

The fucker Hargrove chuckles

"Perfect timing hehee .. Who is it? Parents?"

Steve's lifting himself on his right elbow

"No, they uh .. they have a key, they don't need to .."

The pounding resumes

Billy's wiping himself and Steve with a sheet

"You're gonna open the door?"

"Steve ?? STEVE!!!"

That's .. Max's voice? Oh shit. Steve's looking at Billy who's not smiling anymore

"I don't think we have a choice."

Steve jumps out of bed and puts sweatpants on

He turns to face Billy who's still laying on the bed and only now sees that his torso is bandaged, all around

Fucking hell ..

"Hey, Steve !!"

The pounding intensifies

Steve runs downstairs

"Coming!! I'm coming, Jesus!"

He opens the door, and there's Max, eyes fiery, fists clenched

"Hey is Billy here? El told me .."

"Uh .. yeah. Uhm .."

Max pushes past Steve.

"Billy .. ??"

Turns to him.

"Where is he?"

'Well, he is sleeping, I guess. But uh .. you probably woke him up. Just a second, I'll go look."

There's no need, cause Billy is coming down the stairs, wearing Steve's other sweatpants and throwing on a t-shirt

Max sees the bandage though

"Oh my god, Billy? .. Billy, are you okay? Are you .. "

She's staring at him, eyes wide open

"You're alive? .."

She flings herself at Billy but he's wincing at the embrace, patting her shoulder with his right hand

"Easy, Max."

Is he not happy to see her ? - Steve thinks

"You're alive, asshole !! Why didn't you tell me?"

Billy's just standing there, like a stone statue.

Max steps back a little.

"Were you going to tell me ?? .."

"How did you know I'm here?"

"El called me yesterday and said that .. you were alive and coming to Hawkins. She was so happy, she said Hopper was back and she said .. family's important."

Max is clutching her backpack straps

"It was very late yesterday for me to go outside, mom .. mom doesn't let .. and doesn't like when I stay out late, so I had to wait till the morning but .. I couldn't sleep and .."

"Oh, how's Susan?"

"She's .." - Max's shoulders slouch a little

"She's okay but .."

She stops mid-sentence and suddenly glances at Steve as if looking for some information

"Does he ..? Do you know about your ..?"

"I know, Max. I know about Neil."

They both fall silent.

Somehow Steve decides that it is not the worst moment to cut in

"Hey guys? Does anyone want coffee? Let's go to the kitchen? Did you have breakfast, Max?"

"I couldn't eat much, but yeah .. yeah, I did, thanks Steve."

They're in the kitchen and Steve starts pouring himself a mug of coffee when Max looks at the clock

"I need to get to school. Can somebody .. can you drive me, Billy?"

She's nervous because

Because she knows Billy can be an asshole

Which is exactly what happens

"Listen, Max, I sort of .. just came back from the dead, and you're already piling up a brother's .. step-brother's responsibilities on me? Can't drive anybody anywhere. I'm injured. How did you get here?"

"I walked. Can't skate in winter."

"Well .. school's not that far."

Steve's giving them both a coffee each

"Don't be a jerk, Billy." He says

"Oh so now I'm the jerk?"

Max is on the verge of tears

"You're the biggest jerk there is! Why am I the last one to find out you're alive?"

"Well, why was I the last one to find out about the upside down shit, huh, sister?"

Billy's stubborn like a donkey, Steve kinda knows that about him already. Steve himself has never been good at this sibling shit, he grew up alone, so he's kinda lost here. He's trying his best though.

There are two trails of tears running down Max's face

"I'm sorry, Billy."

Billy's not showing any reaction

Yep, siblings' drama

"Guys! I'll drive you to school, Max, and you .." - glancing at Hargrove - "You wanted to go somewhere?"

"I actually wanted to have a quiet day today, Harrington! Just uh .. just need to go to hospital probably to have it looked at."

Billy's gesturing at his left side

He avoids looking at Max.

Most likely, Steve's got to be the adult here.

"Okay! Okay, don't fight!"

"No-one's fighting, Harrington." - Billy's rolling his eyes and Max is trying not to let a single sniffle out.

"Let's just .. let's just take it step by step. Max, you need to be at school, right ?"

Max's nodding

"When?"

The two of them are looking at the clock

"Like .. in twenty minutes?"

"Right, school starts at 8.30 .." - Steve's addressing Hargrove now. - "I need to be at work at 9.00, can you drive yourself to the hospital?"

"Where would I get the car? Your beamer is near Family Video. Also, what about breakfast?"

"Uhm .. okay, I'm taking Max to school now, and then I'm picking you up from here and driving to Family Video where you can take one of the cars and go to the hospital? And we can stop and get bagels on the way. How's that for a plan?"

Billy's shrugging his broad shoulders like he doesn't care

"Yeah whatever."

"I'll just go change."

When Steve comes downstairs, he sees that Max is still waiting in the kitchen, but Billy's sitting on the couch in the living room

Having brothers or sisters is not the easiest thing, huh

"Let's go, Max?" Steve's grabbing the camaro keys.

"Bye, Billy." It comes out quiet and sad.

"See you around, Maxine." This comes out indifferent.

"I know you don't believe me but I'm glad you're back."

Hargrove isn't answering anything to that, and Steve and Max leave the house.

On the way Steve promises Max to tell her all about Billy's rescue later. He also says he'll talk to Billy about .. about what just happened between them.

"Just give him time, he's been through so much, and he actually has the right to be pissed about some things. You know like .. we kept him in the dark about this whole situation, and .. it almost cost him his life."

"Yeah, I know." Max is looking out of the window. "We should've told him about everything from .. from the beginning. We were stupid."

"Yeah .." - Steve pauses. - "How are things with your mom, by the way?"

"It's okay. It's difficult for her after Neil's death, but .. I hope she's going to be okay. We're moving soon. I don't know where yet, but this house is too big for us now."

Steve drops Max off at school

"If you need any help, call me, Max."

When he gets back, Billy's already dressed and waiting.

They get in the car. Steve can literally feel that the camaro is thrilled to see Billy, it makes all these excited sounds, the engine is singing.

First, they drive in silence but then

"Billy? I kinda felt sorry for Max, I mean .. weren't you happy to see her?"

"On cloud fucking nine, Harrington."

"That's uh .. listen, that's not my place to say anything but uh .. weren't you too harsh on her?"

"First of all, Harrington, stop with that "Oh it's not my place to say .." bullshit, okay? We're fucking, I'm staying at your house, you .. you saved me from that hellhole. And second, Max is .. yeah, she's a kid, bit it's not like she's a little fucking baby who didn't .. who doesn't understand anything!"

Steve's got a feeling Billy's talking about something else entirely, not just their earlier encounter

Also

Steve again feels that tingling sensation at the back of his head.

We're fucking, I'm staying at your house ..

Billy's rubbing his eyes with both palms

"The thing is .. I know. I know, Steve, you're right. It's just that .. there's so much family shit involved like .. I never even wanted a sister, and my dad .. even if it was her fault, I'd get slapped around anyways so .. but I know. Give me a couple of days. I'll pick her up from school or something. We'll go get burgers. We'll talk. Or something. Can we just go get our bagels now, Steve, I'm starving, like .. really ?"

The bagels are freshly baked and delicious, or maybe Steve's just after-sex hungry and happy. The boys devour them like two young wolves.

They say their good-byes for the day in front of the video store.

"I'll take my car. We'll go for a drive. Where's that hospital?"

"It's close to Main Street. There's gonna be a huge sign, you won't miss it."

"Alright. See you after your work. Want me to make some dinner?"

"I uh .. I don't know." Steve wasn't ready for this question.

"Okay, I'll figure it out."

Hargrove gets in the camaro and the car honestly looks like the most delighted pup.

Steve doesn't know how they'll do it, make peace, Billy and the camaro. And whether they'll make peace at all. He's curious, but fuck his life, he's gotta be at work.

Billy goes to the hospital, where they put a new bandage on his wound. Drives around in the camaro a bit, all conversations they might be having remain a secret only two of them share. He goes to Harrington's later and sleeps through the day.

Dinner is tricky, cause Harrington doesn't seem to have much food in his cupboards. Maybe they'll just go to the diner. Or pasta it is.

He's there to pick Steve up from work, and Steve's cheeks burn hot when he sees Billy waiting for him outside Family Video. They drive back separately, taking both cars to Harrington's place.

"I'll race you there, pretty boy."

Steve just scoffs and shakes his head cause he knows his beamer doesn't stand a chance.

He's right.

***

Next chapter. I know this one was supposed to be last, but then Max popped out of nowhere. The boys are still in need of a decent conversation. Also, I'm all for Billy and Max bonding and becoming the brother and sister we want them to be. I just think it won' t happen overnight. They'll need so much time. There will be so much assholery and passive-aggressive bitching. They'll get there, but it won't be all sugary sweet

#billy's camaro fic #billy's camaro #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic

61 notes · View notes

catt-leya · 2 years

Text

Touch Me Pt.2 || Rick Grimes

This part is a little shorter than the 1st, but you'll get a little more sexy action in the 3rd part 💗 👉🏼👈🏼

It is best to read the 1st part so that you understand this chapter 👀

He laughs softly and leans his head against the tree trunk, “Oh come on. I wouldn’t touch you in my life without your consent, so just take it easy. You can’t blame me, though, for thinking about it ever since you ran into me.”

My cheeks get hot and I just stare at him.

His broad chest rises with each breath and I just can't take my eyes off it. Not even when he tugs lightly on our intertwined hands, "That surprised?"

With flushed cheeks, I look him in the eye again and murmur, "A little."

Again he laughs softly, "I just have eyes in my head."

Suddenly I remember how he stared at me when he had me under him and barely moved.

My gaze moves down his arm to our hands and I ask quietly, "Would you uncuff me?"

With his eyes closed, he nods, "You're not leaving?"

I sit up a little and say, "I promise. I won't leave your side."

As I say it, I notice how it sounds and his chest vibrates with laughter, "Good to know."

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the key. I release my hand from his as he unlocks the cuffs and I rub my wrist sighing, "Thank you."

I feel so incredibly comfortable in his presence and I ask, "And my knives?"

Wordlessly he looks at me and I realize it myself, "Yeah okay sure. I don't overuse it. Sorry."

I watch as one by one is taking their sleeping places and I can feel Rick looking at me. His eyes burn into my skin and I ask without looking directly at him, "Where do you want me to sleep?"

Daryl lies down on the other side of our camp and turns his back to me. I'm sure Rick is extremely reliant on him and I'd love to have a conversation with him. There is no mistaking the trust between the two of them and I feel like I could become good friends with Daryl.

Suddenly I feel Rick's hand on my wrist, "You're sleeping here with me so you don't get any ideas."

I look at his hand and mutter defiantly, "Like running off in the middle of the night without any weapons and letting me get eaten? Thank you for caring about my well-being."

You can literally see the last of the strength drain from his eyes and he closes them again sighing, "I barely know you, but I'm afraid I'd put it past you."

I mutter an "asshole" and he smiles lazily with his eyes closed.

Still clutching my wrist, I watch his breathing grow steadily calmer until I'm sure he's asleep. That's when I realize I've been staring at him like a lunatic until he fell asleep, and I'm not going to stop now.

I run away from a possible rapist, run into a hot guy who is thinking about fucking me, and I stalk him while he sleeps. The summary of my last few hours makes me groan in disbelief and I pinch the root of my nose with my free hand.

At least I've landed with a group that seems stable and secure and might accept me permanently, I can handle my troubled side.

So I pull my legs up to my torso and lean against the tree next to Rick. If he trusts me enough to just fall asleep next to me, then I guess I can bring the same trust to him.

So I close my eyes and pretend that Rick's soft snoring isn't lulling me to sleep.

***

"Up you go."

Groaning, I press my face to the warmth and get an "I mean it".

I haven't slept this well in forever and I don't want to give it up just yet, "Let me."

A deep voice grumbles, "Honey, you need to get up now."

And that's when it enters my brain that it's Rick.

Maybe I should be ashamed of myself for abusing him as a pillow, but as I sit up with a sigh I don't care at all and bring forth, "Call me Honey again and then you'll get to know me."

As soon as my head stops leaning on his shoulder, he stands up and stretches his arms above his head.

Because God wills it, his pants hang extremely low on his hips and his shirt lifts up with his jacket enough for me to catch sight of a wonderful strip of skin as he hums, "You like that name."

I avert my gaze from him and stand up as well. I see Maggie looking over at us and smile at her as I say to Rick, "No and I'm going to Maggie."

When he wants to say something, I'm gone faster than he can speak and grin at her, "Hey, can I help you?"

She hooks up with me and pulls me even further away from Rick, "Nope, it's all done, but feel free to tell me about yourself sometime."

Her good mood passes to me and we can't stop chatting until Daryl, who has come up beside us, grumbles, "Can't you women stop at some point?"

Grinning, I grab his arm and hook up with him too: "You just want to have your say."

He doesn't pull his arm away from me and instead groans, "Not really."

I look up at him, seeing him up close for the first time. If I thought Rick looked grim, I know better now, and I wonder if the guy ever smiles.

The longer we walk, the more I get used to the people in the group and even grumpy Daryl grows on me. I playfully nudge him with my hip, "Come on, admit it, you actually like me quite a bit."

I feel like this is the first time he's really looked at me and geez are the men in the group hot.

Silently he looks at me and I clear my throat to say something else when Maggie's husband calls out, "Walker."

Immediately, I disengage my arm from Daryl and everyone swarms out in different directions.

Without my weapons, I can't do much and frantically turn in all directions to avoid being attacked unexpectedly, that's when I see Rick not far from me smashing a biter's head with a machete and call out to him, "Give me my knives."

I don't know if Daryl is still carrying them from yesterday, but I quickly understand that Rick has to sign off on it before I can hold a sharp object in my hand.

Without really looking at me, he takes my knives out of his belt and throws them on the ground in front of me. I quickly pick them up and help finish off the rest of the dead.

I pull my knife out of one's skull, and Rick grabs me by the arm and pulls me aside to saw off the head of the asshole behind me.

Breathing heavily, I gasp, "Thanks."

He nods at me and lets his eyes wander over the others, that's when we hear someone yelp, "Help."

Rick lets go of me and groans, "No way."

Still, he motions for the others to follow the voice and I drop back a bit and watch them help a guy on a rock.

It all happens pretty quickly and the guy introduces himself as Gabriel. Just one look is enough to see that the poor guy wouldn't make it a day in the woods and my pity kicks in.

I hear him offer to take us to his church where he lives and Rick accepts. So we even have a roof over our heads for tonight and I can't say I'm not looking forward to not having dirt on my ass for once when I wake up.

The group starts moving and Rick looks around until his eyes meet mine and he waves me over.

Once I'm with him, he says quietly, "Stay with me."

Annoyed, I roll my eyes and walk past him to follow the others and Gabriel, "Relax. I've got the knives back and I haven't stabbed anyone alive and I don't plan to. You don't have to guard me like a watchdog."

The leaves behind me crunch, which I take as a sign that he's following me: "I don't mean it that way, Honey."

Angrily, I turn to him and hiss, "Don't fucking call me that."

Instead of looking at my face, his eyes are glued to my ass and I clap my hands. Immediately he jerks his head back up and grins boyishly, "Sorry, I got distracted for a second."

I pretend to mind, but I'm actually flattered as I say, "Come on. What are you, 16?"

He shrugs and repeats himself, "Just stay with me."

I look ahead again and my eyes fall on Daryl's back, "What for? I can stay with the others, can't I? It doesn't make any difference. I was going to talk to Daryl again anyway."

Suddenly Rick appears next to me and growls, "You guys get along?"

I have to laugh quietly, "How do you think that's going to work if he barely speaks?"

I'm proud of myself as I see the grin on his face and my smile widens as well.

Unexpectedly, he puts his arm around my shoulders and instead of tensing up, I actually lean closer to him and he leans down to me so that his lips graze my ear, "You like him?"

The question comes as such a surprise that I choke on the air and cough, "None of your business."

I can feel the smile on his lips against my neck as he whispers softly, "Don't forget to breathe."

Angrily, I want to squirm out of his arms, but then when he breathes a kiss on my neck, I really do forget to breathe.

To be continued…

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston

#rick grimes #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #twd #twd x reader #the walking dead

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peony-flowerking7 · 1 month

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hue just some oc

Rant+oc talk

I'M NOT LEAVING LMK FANDOM ANYTIME I LOVE IT TOO MUCH! I've just been frustrated lately, I have trouble with BNHA especially making an oc. But I favorite Gyaru characters they always have the best outfits. So I am hoping this calms my brain cells a bit, I've been having a hard time making a bnha oc but now I have one! She's actually a redesign of many various ocs I had in the past. Yes...I was shamefully in the BNHA fandom...I was a despicable person honestly.

I like the world building, the power system and how it works with science. It has some amazing characters and yes I still do like Bakugou I heard he died and then a lot of things in the manga are disappointing. I have a hate and love relationship with the anime honestly. I could write a whole chapter on it. I especially also don't like bnha oc, I'm sorry but this is my opinion but please don't take it the wrong way. It may come off a bit hypocritical but some BNHA oc are pretty boring and bland, they all look relatively the same, the same white paper skin, blue eyes and black or white hair. Not to mention some quirks are also pretty boring, they also have the same head shape and same eyes.

For me, all BNHA oc look the same, there's nothing to distinguish them well. That's my rant for the fandom side as for the anime. Horikoshi has a big problem with some arcs and characters he never once again used and it's frustrated. Also...fucking Mineta god I hate that character with a burning passion.

Anyways off with my oc, her name is Misao. Her quirk is entirely based off on Mami powers in Madoka Magica. Her whole ordeal is magical girl stuff. So quirk I don't have a name but the description of it is, her cells can turn into guns, only her cells though she can't use anybody else's cells to make guns. Her father Quirk is a healing Quirk while her body is the same as her daughter she can pull any type of gun she wants from her cells except she can use other people cells. For that, the Mother is a military soldier and her father is a medical doctor.

Misao quirk is a combination of the two, let me explain this. Misao's cells can manufacture guns, it doesn't matter which one as long as she has the knowledge of that gun existence and it system is something possible. For her to pop out the gun she needs she will have to pull off a bit of her cells or her skin, it's a painful experience that makes the gun's power more powerful. The good thing is that with the combination of her father Quirk the pain lasts a bit but that all depends in which one she's taking out. Small guns require less so they feel like a pinch while bigger weapons require much force and it can cause Misao a lot of pain. Which is great for power but bad for Misao. She cannot produce bullets though, those she has to make by herself or she can ask her parents for them. It between those two but sometimes she rather ask Yayorozu or Bakugou with these. Like I said earlier Misao can heal faster than a normal person can, also the more guns she gets out the more immobilize she gets and more weaker she grows. Taking out a weapon strains her to the point where she will fall unconscious and stop moving for a couple of hours.

Also she's not very smart, you can say she's a bimbo. So she fails at tests and quizzes but does well in responding while getting her nails done. Also, most of her classmates think she's dumb and just like some of them but Bakugou is the only one to acknowledge the opposite. She was train as a military child, something she dislikes as well. She prefers looking good and getting her nails done, she actually doesn't even want to be a hero, she wants to be an idol. Her dream were crushed as a middle schooler, she really doesn't have a lot of choice.

She also doesn't like some of her classmates because of how their personality rubs her the wrong way. She's uncomfortable with them so she avoids getting to know them, the only one who she enjoys the company with is Bakugou, mostly because of his eyes also his quirk drawbacks but she does avoid him. Shinso is another person she enjoys being with, she's more close to him since they both can connect with each other about societal problems and cats.

#peony art #oc #bnha oc #bnha #oc redesign #oc redraw #redesign

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twoidiotwriters1 · 8 months

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Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: I won't elaborate on my fancast for Leo it explains itself -Danny Words: 2,152 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Polaroid' -by Imagine Dragons

VII. Save Money on Valentine's Day, Become Unlovable

"What Luke told you back on the Princess Andromeda, about starting the world from scratch... that really got to you, huh?"

Annabeth makes a face. "My fatal flaw. That's what the Sirens showed me. My fatal flaw is hubris."

"That brown stuff they spread on veggie sandwiches?"

She sighs. "No, Seaweed Brain. That's hummus. Hubris is worse."

"What could be worse than hummus?"

"Hubris means deadly pride, Percy. Thinking you can do things better than anyone else... even the gods."

"You feel that way?"

Annabeth takes a moment before replying. "Don't you ever feel like, what if the world really is messed up? What if we could do it all over again from scratch? No more war. Nobody homeless. No more summer reading homework."

"I'm listening."

"I mean, the West represents a lot of the best things mankind ever did—that's why the fire is still burning. That's why Olympus is still around. But sometimes you just see the bad stuff, you know? And you start thinking the way Luke does: 'If I could tear this all down, I would do it better.' Don't you ever feel that way? Like you could do a better job if you ran the world?"

Percy and I look at each other. "Um... no," he admits. "Me running the world would kind of be a nightmare."

"I agree," Percy gives me a playful glare, but I add: "No, I mean, I don't have what it takes. Leaders have stone-cold hearts."

"Hubris isn't your fatal flaw, then."

"What is?" Percy asks with curiosity.

"I don't know, Percy, but every hero has one. If you don't find it and learn to control it... well, they don't call it 'fatal' for nothing."

I shiver at the thought of having a weak spot that could kill me, but what can be dangerous for a girl like me? As long as I stay out of everyone's way, my flaw has no reason to put me in danger.

When Leo says he wants to look for Festus, Ara decides to join him. It's obvious he doesn't want company, but she won't let him go alone, not when something's after them.

She's half expecting the walk to be awkward. However, Leo's asking so many questions now that it's just the two of them again that she gets comfortable rather quickly. It doesn't feel like she's talking with a stranger, which is weird, not even Percy felt this way so soon into knowing him.

"So, what's your deal, exactly?" He fidgets with a couple of screws. "What does it mean, being the daughter of Olympus?"

"That I protect Olympus."

Leo gives her a sideways glance. "Your job isn't to fight monsters and do quests, then? Is it something more important?"

"You got it backward," she sighs. "That's exactly my job. The gods hand me tasks directly, or used to before they shut down Olympus... I go on quests and lead their armies."

Ara almost sounds bored when she talks about it, but she's only trying to hide how anxious it makes her, to have all that control over her loved ones. She didn't want to boss around her friends, she wanted to be their dependable hero.

"What happens if you fail?" He asks, the screws in his hand are ignored for a moment.

"If I'm breathing and can move, I gotta keep going."

"But my question is what happens when you can't continue a quest?"

Ara stares at him blankly. "If I fail, it means I died, there is no other option. I may be called the daughter of Olympus but the gods are not my caretakers. It hasn't happened though, lucky me."

Leo's amusement quickly vanishes. "Man, so you could die if we fail this quest?"

"Yeah. But I agreed to this."

He hesitates. "You might be a little too insane for my liking, and that's saying a lot..."

"Maybe I am," she heaves a sigh. "But I did it so they would stop using my friends..."

"How old are you?" Leo frowns.

"Fourteen... and a half," she adds as an afterthought.

"What!" He raises his voice. "And you're a General? I don't even have a driver's license!"

"And that's such an impediment now that you're flying a dragon," she replies sarcastically. "Don't be dumb."

"If that's an order, General, I'll have to transgress it," he taunts her. It's crazy how quickly Leo can switch from being upset to acting all funny. "That's the one thing I do perfectly, don't take my dumbness away."

Ara sighs again, not sharing Leo's easy-going attitude. He tries again, he doesn't know why, but he likes listening to Ara's voice. It soothes him and makes his mind go slower. "So... why did the gods say yes? Why not choose someone older?"

Ara's brows knit together, she's heard this question many times before and knows that it makes sense, but it still annoys her. "I was the only one asking for it. Percy made his wish, and I still had mine, so I used it for this. The children of Olympus had been er... discontinued. I brought them back."

Leo tries to ask the following question without sounding rude, it's not coming easy. "So were you... powerful enough? Is that why they said yes?"

"I was good enough, yeah. It's a slow process, years and years of training. I convinced them 'cause I had a special set of skills."

Leo's hands are back to fidgeting. "What skills?"

Percy hides our ship behind a large rock wall, so in order to get to the top, we have to climb.

"Okay. Who first?"

They glance at me, of course they'd want me to go first, keeping an eye on the weakest link is the wise thing to do, but I'm not looking at them, I'm examining the wall.

"There's a path," I inform my friends.

"What?"

"You're hallucinating, Birdy..."

"No. Follow me."

Usually, when I insist there's something I can do, they let me try. I hold onto the nearest edge, and after that, I just keep going up. I stop only when I hear someone calling my name many feet below me. I look down to discover I don't have vertigo.

"Why aren't you coming up?" I frown. "It's safe!"

"You're moving too fast, we can't see where you're stepping!" Annabeth pants.

"I'm fast?" I look at my hands. "Cool!"

"You don't use the lava wall back in camp, do you?" Percy raises his voice so I can hear him.

"Silena doesn't let me, she thinks I'll get hurt!"

"Well, I think she has to reconsider!" He grunts.

Festus landed on a pile of portable toilets, and both teens stare at the mess in disgust.

"Talking 'bout good fortune, huh?"

"If we had one of those cranes here it'd be easier..." Leo looks around with a scowl.

"I can climb his back," Ara steps forward, then stops. "Maybe throw snow on it before we..."

"What?" Leo puts his hand on the dragon's surface, then he jumps back. "Oh, right—ouch," he says in a not-so-convincing tone. When he notices the way she's looking at him, he tries to make up an excuse. "I'm very sleep-deprived."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Lying," she steps closer to him.

He smiles like he finds the conversation absurd. "Doll, I really got no—"

"You may think I'm an air-headed Barbie, but I can tell you're full of shit," Ara seizes his wrist. "I'm tired of you and Piper hiding things from me. Tell me what's your deal, or I'll lock you up in one of the squeezed-out toilets."

Leo complains loudly as Ara squeezes his wrist. "Okay, okay! Dang, you're stronger than you look!" He scoffs. "You have to promise not to freak out, alright?"

"You better be honest," she lets go of him. "Don't worry about me, I've seen a lot of weird stuff."

"Okay..." he rubs his wrist. "I... I make fire," Leo scowls at her. "Now's when you point fingers and call me bad names."

Ara stares at him, her gaze is calculating. "Nyssa told you their superstition, didn't she?"

"No, I just guessed I'm an omen of tragedy and bad fortune!" He replies sarcastically.

"So rough life for you too, huh?" She tilts her head, ignoring his defensive tone.

Leo nods once, still scowling. "Good ol' demigod life."

"Well, it's not the end of the world, and I would know that. I witnessed like, three of those," she tells him. "Can you make fire out of nothing?"

"Yes," he opens one palm and small orange flames envelop it. "But I don't do this trick at parties, y'know? For obvious reasons."

"Yeah, because you don't get invited," Ara reaches out. It is real fire. "It's okay. Chiron will know how to help you."

"You think he'll want to? Because I'll be honest here, I need the training."

"I'll do it if he doesn't. You won't get better if you don't practice, and I owe it to you," Ara stretches out her palm. "Deal?"

The fire dies on Leo's hand. He stares at her unblinkingly. "You sure? I can be really hard to handle."

"I'll manage," she decides to tease him into shaking her hand. "What, afraid of getting cooties?"

Leo smiles. "Afraid of passing them, actually, but if you insist..."

He reaches for her hand and shakes it.

Tyson invites me to help him build Percy and Annabeth's chariot and I'm happy to assist him. We work side by side, and Percy and Annabeth win the race.

"We couldn't have won this race or got the Fleece or saved Grover or anything! We owe our lives to our friends, to..." Annabeth pauses and looks at the Cyclops.

Percy catches my eye and his smile widens. "My baby brother and sister! Tyson and Ara!"

Before I know it, I'm being lifted on someone's shoulders and Tyson's holding my hand. When we reach the winner's platform and I'm placed between Percy and Tyson, I feel accepted unconditionally.

Percy reaches for my hand and squeezes, I make a promise that I'll treat him as my brother forever. "We should talk later," he says under his breath.

He has a strange glint of determination in his eyes. You know when someone says "later" but they mean "never"? Well, Percy isn't that type of person. Later meant fifteen minutes forward.

Chiron and him are waiting for me in the Big House, and Percy's holding a phone. "You have a call, Birdy."

"Did I do something?" I look at Chiron without understanding.

He points at the cell phone. "Don't keep them waiting."

"Hello?" I speak in a little frightened voice.

"Hi, Ara," my heart does a somersault, it's Sally Jackson.

"Hi!" I reply, too excited to even question why my friend's mom wants to talk to me. "Did Percy tell you about the rock wall? I'm the fastest climber!"

"I heard you helped Tyson build a chariot, too."

"I helped Percy sail a pirate ship too! And I used my Charmspeak with Polyphemus before he could rip off—" My friend shakes his head frantically, so I change the subject. "Why are you calling me?"

Sally takes a moment.

"Well... Percy and I talked..."

I glance at Percy. "Yeah? About what?"

"You liked staying with us during Christmas, didn't you?"

"Yeah! Can I go this year too?"

"How about staying the whole year?"

I'm sure I misheard that. "Sorry?"

"I've talked to Chiron, and he can help us with the paperwork to make it happen. Percy and I agree, having you around felt right."

"Wait, make what happen?" My heart's crawling up my throat.

"We want to adopt you, Ara."

"I-I'm not an orphan," My face is getting redder.

"We know."

"I told those things to Percy 'cause he asked, I wasn't trying to—I didn't use charmspeak!"

I'm embarrassed. I mean, when your friend hears your sob story and suddenly he's like "Suprise! I'm giving you this thing you told me you wished more than anything!" It kinda feels like he's just shutting you up. I didn't want it if it was out of pity.

"Ara," Percy intercedes. "We have more than enough to welcome a second regular-size kid into our home. Having Tyson around made us realize that."

"But I can't protect you like Tyson," I insist.

"We don't want that," Sally says. "Having you is enough."

They're asking me not only to stick around but also to use their name. Be part of their family forever.

I look at Chiron with hopeful eyes.

"Can I?"

Their bodies light up in a golden hue as soon as Leo holds her hand. Ara snatches her palm away in panic, looking at the boy as if he's got two heads.

"What?" Leo stares at her anxiously. "Did I burn you?"

"I'm fine!" She replies high-pitched. "Good talk! Let's—let's fix Festus now!" Ara turns to face the dragon so Leo can't see her blush.

Gods, if her friends could see her now... No. This is not happening. That was not golden.

"Dammit!" She kicks the snow.

Leo's climbing the dragon but he stops halfway. "What?"

"I'm having a moment, stay out of it!" She snaps.

The boy stares at her, half-amused and half-worried. "Why are the prettiest girls always so crazy..."

"Shut up!" Ara blushes even more.

She's dreamed about this moment for quite some time, but Leo's timing is downright inconvenient at this point, so denial it is. Ara isn't gonna make things easier. It will be the slowest slow-burn the Fates have ever had the misfortune to witness.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

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canirove · 1 year

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The Nanny Diaries | Chapter 5

Author’s note: Part of this chapter is an imagine I posted months ago and that kind of inspired the story, so some of you may have read it already, though I did some tiny changes.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

It's been two weeks since Alice's hen do, and I still don't remember what the hell happened with Ben on that lift. Well, that’s a lie. I actually remember one thing: that I kissed him and that it was one of the best kisses I've ever had. But everything else? It's all blurry. And I hate that feeling, because who knows what stupid things I said.

We haven't crossed paths either since that day. According to his Instagram, he is on a work trip in Italy, enjoying the good weather and amazing food, while here it is pouring with rain and I've been living out of white rice and boiled fish because Levi has been sick. And if we didn't eat what he ate, he would not eat at all. Kids.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Hold the door!" someone says, running towards the lift. No, not someone. Ben. He's back from his trip. "Hello, neighbour" he says with that big smile I love so much.

"Holy shit."

"Is that your new way to say hello to people?" he asks, still smiling.

"No, sorry. Hi" I say, trying to make my brain work again and stop staring at him. But I can't. I just can't.

He is not wearing his usual kind of ugly sweatshirts, jeans and sneakers. He's wearing a suit. A freaking suit. And on his hand, he has a trench coat, a Burberry one judging by the bit of fabric I can see on the inside. He looks like he was shooting one of their ads. Or maybe that he was an extra on one of the Kingsman movies. He looks stupidly hot and elegant, and I can't stop looking at him.

"Do you want to take a picture?" he says as he moves to push his floor's button.

"What?"

"You keep staring, so maybe you want to take a photo and keep staring later. When you are alone" he smirks.

"You are so funny, Benjamin" I say, trying to roll my eyes. But I can't. They are stuck looking at him.

"How was the hangover?"

"Not bad."

"Sure" he chuckles.

"It was horrible. Happy, now?"

"Not really. The thought of you being sick is one I don't like."

The thought of what? Did he just say what I think he said?

"How is Levi?" he asks.

"He was sick. One of those stomach bugs."

"Poor boy. I actually got him a gift, when is he coming back from school?"

"Around three."

"Great. I’ll see if I can stop by" he says as the lift stops on my floor. "It was nice seeing you again, neighbour."

"You too, Benjamin" I say, speaking before thinking.

When the lift’s door close, he is smiling from ear to ear, and I can only think about one thing. That I'm falling for him. Hard. Damn it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I yell, quickly turning around after seeing the door opening on the mirror's reflection, and the person that shows up.

"I’m so sorry, I didn't know there was someone in the bathroom."

"Leave. Now!" I say, holding the tower I'm wearing a bit tighter against my body.

"But I need to use it" Ben says, closing the door behind him and nodding towards the toilet.

"Don't you have a house where you can do that? What are you doing here?"

"I came to give Levi his gift, but Mrs. McKenzie told me he was out with his parents. Then she invited me to a cup of tea, we had a chat, and now I need to pee and she said I could use the bathroom on this part of the house.”

"This is for staff only."

"I didn't know" he shrugs.

"Well, now you know. So please, leave."

"The other night you weren't so keen on me leaving" he says, taking a step closer to where I am standing. "When you kissed me on the lift, I mean."

"I didn't kiss you."

"Yes, you did. You threw yourself at me and kissed me. Said I have very kissable lips."

"I was drunk, I wasn't thinking" I say, feeling my cheeks burn.

"The nanny being drunk and kissing her neighbour. Imagine if Mr. and Mrs. Kloss found out."

"You better not say a word, Benjamin" I say, threating him.

"Or what?" he says, now standing very close to me. "Will you kiss me again? Because I really want to kiss you. Now."

"What are you..." But before I can finish my sentence, he is doing it. He is kissing me, one hand cupping my face while the other is holding onto the sink, pinning me against it. And for some reason, I kiss him back, my hands still holding my towel.

"Ben..." I whisper when he starts kissing my neck, my collarbone. "What if Mrs. McKenzie comes looking for you?"

"She won't" he says, looking me in the eyes as his hands move to mine, taking them on his and letting them rest on the sink, one to each side of my body.

"You can't know that."

"I do. She was busy getting everything ready to make dinner" he says with a big smirk before his fingers are back on my towel. “Do you trust me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you trust me or not?”

“I do.”

“Good” he says, undoing the knot on my towel and letting it fall to the floor, leaving me stark naked in front of him.

"Benjamin!" I say, trying to sound mad at him, outraged at what he is doing. But my voice is just a whisper, a whisper that turns into a gasp when I feel his mouth on my nipple, his tongue playing with it.

"Shh" he says when I hear myself moaning. "Mrs. McKenzie is in the kitchen, remember?"

"She..." But again, I'm not able to say anything else, his mouth now on my other breast. When he gets tired of it, he kneels down and starts kissing my stomach, my bellybutton, going down as my body tenses under his touch.

“May I?” he asks, stopping just there.

My only answer is a nod, one that is followed by a loud moan when he finds the spot he was looking for, my hand instantly going to my mouth to stop me from doing it again. From Mrs. McKenzie being able to hear me. But it's impossible. Whatever he is doing feels too good, and I can't control what my body is doing.

"Ben" I hear myself whispering again, one of my hands on his hair, pulling him closer to me, asking him for more. And then, I'm gone. I don't know what the hell he is doing to me and for how long, but I am completely gone.

"There" I suddenly hear him say in front of me, bringing me back to reality. When I open my eyes, still trying to catch my breath, he is putting the towel back in place, a big grin on his face.

"I..." I mumble, not knowing what to say, still feeling... I don't know what I'm feeling right now.

"I'll see you around, neighbour" he says, that stupid big grin still on his face as he opens the bathroom door, winking at me before closing it and disappearing, leaving me speechless and definitely in need of another shower. A very cold one.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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alpydk · 19 days

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THINGS THAT I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT MY FELLOW WRITERS

this is a super fun tag prompt list, thanks @orangekittyenergy

tagging: @sofancydancy and @senualothbrok

Right, let's see how this goes.

Last book I read: Pride and Prejudice. Had never read it before but the whole Tim Downie cameo got me doing it. Then watched the BBC series with a friend and we swooned something major over Colin Firth. I've picked up some other books since then but just haven't found the motivation to get through them. Looking at Dark Tower book 5 as well for the last year...

Greatest literary inspiration: I'm honestly not sure. My partner is the real reader of the two of us. I've enjoyed Dark Tower, The Witcher Series (Honestly still in love with Cahir from them), and Leaves of Grass is my poetry go-to. But inspiration, going to be silly but the Hardcore series by Andy Remic (RIP), is such a great series of books. They're not the most literary genius type books but the action is cool, I love the characters. They make me want to write cool shit too.

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write:

Smut. Honestly, my abilities with writing smut are limited. I have no patience for flowery language (yeah I write poetry but I know what I mean.) but it means when it comes to writing my own smut it is very matter-of-fact and lacks what I'm looking for. I'm also very picky about my smut due to an annoying logical brain. If you say someone moves their arm and then they move something else I see that and if I can't follow it directly I'm just going to put it down.

You can recognise my writing by:

Lots of short prose-type sentences. I like the effect of repetition and I especially like writing in a more personal talking type way. I especially love to monologue so if anyone does recognise my writing it's probably from these things. I especially love writing anything angst, it's so therapeutic and I love being able to draw out emotions from other people. I can do this with sweet fluff stuff too but angst really is more enjoyable.

My most controversial take ( current fandom):

I hate the word folds. (Not fandom relations but still.) Makes me think of a packed ham sandwich.

Fandom-related though - Astarion fans can get pretty feral over their views of his character. I get it, Gale fans are the same but I've left groups over the rabidness.

Current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): Currently about a 4 but it can vary depending on the hour and the inspiration. I completed the Nana story and now feel a little lost as to what the next project will be. Ideas are escaping me.

Top three favourite tropes: The whole "enemy to lovers" thing. I mean this in a 2 people who argue and fall in love, not as in the real enemies to lovers.

Star-crossed lovers, especially if they really are both doomed. Astarion/Karlach if she is going to burn up. I love that tragic acceptance. Give me more of that.

I like a loveable rogue too. Hook from OUAT.

Share a random frustration: AU fiction losing characterisations. Once your fiction hits a point where you could replace the characters with any other from any other series I'm going to stop reading it. Great, you want X to be sub, but if he wouldn't actually act that way in canon, why are you even using him as a character? It's AU, fine but then make it OC or use another fandom. Don't force me to read through 13 chapters of semi-ok stuff just to destroy the characters so you can fulfil the soap opera-esque drama that gets you the hits. I get it's difficult but this is my pet peeve. Rant over...

#tag game #omg writing is hard #rant post

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morathicain · 3 months

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Very impressed both with the number of WIPs you have and the mysterious way you title them. How do you remember what is what haha.

If no one asked already, what happens in "It could be worse"? Or and just to know, "Hyckey licious" :p

Hey, hi! Thank you, I've collected them for quite a while, some are YEARS old! And well, regarding remembering them ... good question! Sometimes I can't remember them at all XD Like, I've written so much and some titles I remember and some I totally don't. Which means I maybe need to find a new system to keep wips and finished work separated lol

Well, so those two! "It could be worse" is a multichapter fic for 3wbf and I have the first two chapters uploaded already. I had it all planned out so well and then I got stuck and probably have to change my plans to continue (after over a year *cough*). It's an AU in which Shin is actually following his father's path more and works for the company instead of pursuing an artist career. Secretly he is working and conspiring against his dad tho. During a charity event he gets kidnapped by Miw and Neo who actually don't work together but for different groups but had the same plan at the same time. On the way, the three of them learn more about each other, bond and plans get ruined for different reasons. Oh, and of course they will fall in love :D So, some adventure-kidnapping-shenanigans with slightly ooc-characters, which I usually love to write for them. Just need to get back to it again!

The excerpt is from the new chapter that's not been uploaded and still might change:

What he did know though, was, that this might be his chance to get Neo on his side, before it was too late. And he’d have to do it fast, otherwise Miw would do the same. And Shin still had no idea what her goal was. What her reasons were and her resources. But the fact, that she also seemed to be shocked by Neo’s announcement, had to mean something, didn’t it? Or the fact, that she’d been checking her phone a few times already since they’d taken off, even though she’d tried to be subtle. Maybe he should ask now or lead to the topic carefully or quietly or ... the boat rocked, thrown by an especially powerful wave and suddenly there were two hands gripping his thighs, reflexively, bringing Shin’s brain to a full stop. He looked down. Just in time to see Miw’s hand being pulled back as if she’d burned herself. As if this was more than she’d wanted to admit. But Neo? Neo’s hand stayed and his grip tightened. And Shin? Shin realised why his father had never trusted him enough to make big decisions. Not when he said shit like ... “I betrayed my father.”

And "Hickey-licious" is an Utsukushii Kare ff I thought of after watching the movie! It will be mostly smut with Hira finding all the spots to leave hickeys on on Kiyoi :P There's a lot of notes but nothing written yet, although I have it all planned out in my mind. Nothing too long, just Hira taking and marking and Kiyoi giving and enjoying it all!

Thank you again for asking! <3

More wip titles you can ask about

#ask #wip #writing #utsukushii kare #3 will be free #inrainbowz

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eggwars · 1 year

Text

temptation tuesday

rules: share something about an idea you have/something that's speaking to you/an au you'd like to see and are considering writing/etc. etc. Basically anything that is tempting you away from your current wips!

Thank you for the tag @just-slightly-chayotic and @viva-yas-vegas

since I got tagged twice I guess I'll share two tidbits? I currently have four-ish chaptered fics I'm rolling around in my brain. What to share~? What to share~?

I'm putting this under a cut because it got quite long lol fic below!

Okay so my second or third most developed one is probably my KimChay mermaid AU?

So for the mermaids, it started off as a branch idea from another AU I'm working on with Tea. They have also been my muse for this one, which is going to have some Little Mermaid vibes (Kim is nosy in every universe) but with some fun twists. I have some snippets written for this one already!

Sound travels differently on the surface. In the water, his songs are close, intimate. The sound doesn't travel as far, but it's rounder, a bubble of music.

On the surface, sound is sharper, it travels farther, straight across the air like a thrown spear. Kim can't decide which is better. Some of the songs his mother used to sing sound better above the waves, so he finds the closest abandoned beach to sing.

But one day, he's swimming to shore when dulled notes drift over his ears through the water. It's not singing, it sounds like one of those many-stringed instruments humans bring on fishing boats.

Kim hovers in the water, indecisive. The sound's coming from above the waves, close to where he was going to perch for the evening. Kim should turn around. That's what his brothers would say. He hasn't listened to them in years.

Kim makes his way inland, belly close to the sand, making sure the powerful beats of his tail don't make waves in the calm evening surf. He's maybe 5 meters from the small beach, when the first hummed notes of a song filter through the water to him. He needs to surface, he needs to hear it. Coming up behind a convenient jut of rocks, Kim's ears finally hear that clean air-sound.

It's beautiful. The singer is clearly young, their notes hesitant, but warm. Kim can't help himself. As he pulls the bulk of his torso on a flat part of the outcropping, he begins to harmonize under his breath. It's as easy as swimming, singing with this boy. And the human's a boy, he can see that now. He misses a few notes when he sees him. He's odd-looking. Humans usually are. Their two legs make them appear shorter than merfolk, and their skin is soft all over, like a hatchling's nascent scales.

But there is something about this one that gives Kim pause. Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the way his fingers cleverly find the next chord to play. Maybe it's the glowing golden of his tan skin.

No.

It's those eyes, Kim thinks, as they meet his. It'd almost be comical, how round they become, if not for how the setting sun has turned those driftwood eyes a deep sea-glass amber.

Kim has slipped off his perch and is streaming back into deep water before he realizes.

Oh, he's beautiful.

He wants to sing with him again.

Boom. mermaids. I have some fun world building I'm working on for that :)

Alright and another one for ya! I'm not gonna go into too much detail on the premise of this one, but the Clown Car, y'all know. I haven't written anything for this AU yet, but it's my baby. My child, my most unhinged of thought spirals. My clowns have been subjected to it, there's a playlist already, I have yelled about the world building and I have tortured friends with all the potential angst, but I have not put any thoughts to word.

So, now you're gonna get my first snippet.

The first thing that hits Chay, when the smell of burning oil stops singeing his nose hairs, is how green it all is. He’s not really surprised, he saw Earth from the portholes aboard Orpheus every day. Logically, he knows there were still swaths of green speckling the planet, but seeing it is another beast altogether. For one, it’s greener. Whatever had happened, whatever they avoided all those years in orbit, it had at least done some good for the local flora.

A shout from behind him drags Chay out of his trance. The spacecraft he called home for three years, The Orpheus, lay in a hulking mass of twisted metal and black smoke, the smell of exhaust still hung heavy in the air. Most of the crew had managed to crawl their way out of the smoldering remains, tarnishing their white landing suits with dirt stains and holes, but Bank has a leg pinned under what used to be the support strut between two habitation pods. It now resembled something like a melted twizzler.

The shouting had come from Ice, calling the other crew to help fish Bank out of the wreckage. Chay turns to move toward her, but is caught, enraptured by a streak of color in his periphery. A flower. It’s a stark orange, with five petals curling outward invitingly, its pistil and anthers long and the same color as the petals. Some kind of rhododendron, Chay thinks. He hasn’t seen a flower in the wild since he was a child.

More noises echo through the crew behind him, but Chay can’t pay them any mind. A flower. A flower, growing right there out of the dirt with no greenhouse, no fertilizer, exchanging gas with the Earth’s atmosphere. And it’s blooming, He traces a fingertip reverently over a petal. He’s almost sure his fingers will pass right through it, but they don’t. Its petals are soft and slightly warmed by the afternoon sunlight streaming through the forest canopy. It’s real.

The murmuring behind Chay grows pointed and excited, before Song calls his name in a whisper shout. Chay turns around to see the crew, standing hushed and quiet. They look like they’ve paused in the middle of what they were doing, and are staring off somewhere into the brush behind the wreck of the Orph. Chay leaves his flower with one last caress, and walks parallel to the wreck so he can get an angle on what’s caught everyone’s attention and then–

There. In a gap between two wild, untrimmed bushes stands a doe. If wild plants were rare then wild animals– well.

She stands, ears and nose twitching as she stares down the eight of them. Chay remembers Porsche telling him once about a deer he and Mom saw when they were camping. In those days, the outdoors were more livable, he’d say. The deer had been a stag, young with short antlers. They had come across it while hiking a short trail, and it had skipped away in its hopping gait before Porsche could get close. Now, Chay waits for the doe to realize what they are and bolt. Her nose twitches one more time, and she takes a step forward.

And then the doe charges.

heheheee

So. That's what's tumbling in my brain right now. I don't know when I'll write it bc I have a lot of world building to do and lots of different ideas for plot points. Basically it's gonna be novel length and i'm dreading it :')

okay so that's it for me, idk who all's been tagged so i'm just gonna throw my seeds to the wind. @shubaka @fuckyeah-itme uhhhhhhhh yep idk. anyone else who sees this and wants to do it! Have fun!

#kinnporsche #kimchay #fan fic #my fic #tag game #long post

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lunehong · 1 year

Text

Black Pirates | Five

Modern era robin hood ATEEZ X Undercover spy fem OC

ship : ??? X OC

Genre : slowburn, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers

Synopsis : "The world may be unfair but it does not stop us from changing our own fate." Kang Sohyun tries to investigate a group of bandits who are causing havoc in all of Korea. As she gets into close contact with them, her view of them slowly starts to change. "Why do people even hate you?" "If we worried about what people thought of us, we would've all been in a slump of despair by now."

Warnings : none

A/n : If anyone wants to be added to the taglist let me know !

Masterlist , Prologue , Chapter one , Chapter two , Chapter three , Chapter four

CHAPTER 5

Sohyun said farewell to Jongho and was headed towards her apartment complex when suddenly, her phone started ringing. She searched for it in her purse while humming the tune of her ringtone.

As she was about to press the answer button, the phone slipped from her hand and fell onto the hard pavement. Sohyun gasped and scrambled to pick it up, checking if it had any sort of damage. When she was sure it had none, she pressed the answer button of the call which was already ringing for the second time.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Hi, it's Juyeon from the information collection team."

"Oh, Juyeon! Yeah... did you find anything related to what I asked you to search?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. I dug up and found two cases that might be similar to what you're looking for."

"Alright, I'm listening..." Sohyun pressed the phone to her other ear and stood by the edge of the pavement to make way for the other pedestrians.

"One is the arson case against Lim Joon ki - a mall owner in Hongdae, who is accused of being the mastermind behind the burning down of another mall located in Gangnam. The incident has killed and injured more than 60 people at the least. However, he is still on trial and probably won't get bail so easily."

"Okay carry on. It probably isn't this one then," said Sohyun while looking back, making sure no one was eavesdropping and also to see if Jongho went back home.

"The second case is a lawsuit filed by multiple antique collectors who joined together from all over Korea. The charges are against a museum branch owner in Seoul named Lee Seok Min. He is accused of stealing multiple antique pieces without authorization and claiming them for himself. The pieces are on display at a branch of the Seoul Artistic Museum, which is owned by him and couldn't be retrieved until he was pleaded guilty."

"So, is he still in jail?"

"Actually, no. The trial continued for a while but Lee Seok Min was deemed not guilty and free of charge, even when the opposition had multiple proofs against him."

"Bingo. When was he let out exactly?"

"Wait...give me a minute..." Sohyun could hear the aggressive clicking of a keyboard and a yawn from Juyeon.

“Okay, okay. So the court stated that he was free of charge exactly 5 days ago."

"Alright Juyeon-ah, thank you so much for this!"

"No need to thank me, I was just doing my job as an informant for the team."

"Still, thank you for going out of your way to find these for me!"

"Anytime, Sohyun-ah. I hope these help though, considering how little we know about case 1024 and we need to find a lead as soon as possible. We're all stressed over here."

"Yeah, I understand. I'm trying my best to contribute to the team as well." Sohyun shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling impatient.

"Don't burden yourself though! You're not even a full-timer here. Take it easy and I know you will find some connections. I believe in you Sohyun-ah!"

"Thank you Juyeon, take care. Bye!"

With that being said, Sohyun hung up, the cogs in her brain turning.

'You don't even know how much that intel is going to help dear Juyeon, but I can't tell the team just yet. I have to make sure the theory I'm going forward with, is indeed the correct one. I need to go on this mission myself. Even a small trace of them is going to be helpful.' She thought to herself.

Sohyun was ready to start walking again, shivering slightly at the sudden temperature drop, when her eyes fell on a black van that drove past her. It took the van only a few seconds to pass the girl and take a turn at the end of the road, but what she noticed during those few seconds was enough to make her eyes go wider and her heart beat faster.

She observed that all the windows on the van were tinted except the driver’s and the one beside it. A familiar blonde man was driving the van while seated beside him was the same chequered shirt guy from the restaurant. Nothing was unusual until the guy took his black unkempt wig and faux moustache off. He had a stunningly eye-catching hazel mullet and was flashing his beautiful smile, clearly amused at something inside the van.

Sohyun kept on staring at him until the van went out of her field of vision. Even if she saw just a glimpse of him, the mulleted guy lingered on in her mind. Sohyun definitely thought that he was very good looking and the air of authority she felt from him earlier, suited him well.

'I knew something was off with that man. Him being undercover this whole time just proved my intuition right.' She thought, making a mental note to ask Song about it later.

The girl wasted no time and headed home. She stayed in her investigation room, planning and studying the entire weekend. Sohyun barely remembered to eat her meals and take a shower, only getting out when her stomach growled or she felt stinky.

She hacked into the museum's security systems and obtained the blueprint of the place. She also found out all the entry and exit routes along with the number of security guards patrolling and their shifts on that particular day.

Sohyun knew very well that 48 hours won't be enough to plan a whole encounter mission all by herself. Not to mention that the theory she had was just a possibility and she couldn't be sure that the Black Pirates would indeed raid the museum. Keeping all those in mind Sohyun tried to focus on how she would keep herself hidden and collect evidence of their whereabouts.

Kang Sohyun was a person who never judged anybody based on what others speculated about them. Her views on someone depended on what she saw or experienced. She knew very well that a person always had more than one side to them. If someone was nice to her but mean to others or vice versa, they always had a reason behind it, however simple it might be.

This was one of the reasons why she agreed to become a secret agent in the first place. Her curiosity to find the reasons behind people's actions were what led her to join the agency.

Case 1024 was also no different to her. She wasn't contributing to her team because people thought that the Black Pirates were vicious bandits. There were many criminals out there who were more dangerous and destructive than these people but the media's focus wasn't on them right now. She was curious about the Pirates - how many members they had, how they executed their missions, why their raids were so meticulously planned etcetera. But most importantly, she wanted to know their motive behind doing all this.

The 48 hours Sohyun had at hand were over.

She started getting ready to go to the Seoul Artistic Museum. She wore a black bodysuit for the mission, setting her gun holster with a loaded gun in place. Over it, she wore a white t-shirt, a long brown full sleeve coat and baggy jeans to hide the bodysuit. A bag was by the door, filled with multiple gadgets or necessities that Sohyun deemed important. She checked her attire and the stuff in her bag one last time before making her way to the parking lot.

Upon arriving at the said location, she saw the museum somewhat crowded.

'Let me start patrolling the area. If they plan to steal the items in broad daylight amid a crowd, the alarms will go off. That is when I will try to chase them down.' She thought while circling the museum's perimeter.

Hours had gone by and nothing unusual took place. Sohyun checked her watch, noticing that it was already closing time for the museum. She went towards her car which was parked behind a huge bush situated a little beyond the museum premises, waiting there until the staff members closed the museum down and left.

The girl stripped out of her casual fit and tied her hair into a bun securing a cap on top of it. She retrieved her bag from the car seat and headed back towards the museum for phase two.

'As they didn't attempt a raid in the daytime, their only option should be when the museum is closed and all the staff have left.' Sohyun searched for her agency card out of habit and panicked when she didn't find it.

"Oh, right! I wiped my identity as a part of the agency a while back. Plus I won't be able to enter the museum using the card anyway, as that would alert the rest of the team..." She spoke out loud, slinging the bag over her shoulders while making her way towards the back of the museum. She spotted a water pipe that slithered to the roof of the building.

"How does this make me any different from the bandits anyway?" Sohyun asked no one in particular.

She climbed the pipe as carefully as possible and jumped on the nearest window ledge on the second floor. Using a stick she found on the ground, Sohyun tried to create a gap between the window and the wall so that she could pop the lock open with the help of a hairclip. After fiddling with the lock for some time, the lock fell with a click and the girl sighed out of relief. She entered the museum through the window, locking it back and tiptoed her way to where those antique pieces were situated.

Next chapter

Tags : @wooyoos @jwnghyuns @starillusion13

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