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myloveforhergoeson · 1 year

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That's All She Wrote - Chapter 3

Chapter: 1 • 2

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Show: Big Time Rush

Pairing: James Diamond x Original Female Character

Lonely No More (1.3) ~ 14k

It had been a rough day for team Big Time Rush. Five hours of dancing, seven hours of harmonies, thirty-two bottles of water, and fourteen ruined bandanas later, there was nothing the teens were looking forward to more than spending an evening out of their crummy apartments.

One of the places that provided the five the most comfort was the stillness of the Palm Woods pool after dark and today was no exception. Dragging feet and dragging bags led them out onto the comfy lounge chairs, plopping down and having a rare moment of relaxation.

“Thank goodness we can escape the stresses of Hollywood at the amazing Palm Woods pool,” Kendall reflected, causing Roxy to close her eyes and listen to the gentle lapping of the water.

Footsteps clattered behind them as a weird-sounding bell rang. “What’s this? I didn’t order extras!”

The girl shot up in her seat, extremely startled. When she turned around, she spotted a middle-aged woman with a headset and clipboard. “What, us? Extras?”

“We live here,” Kendall chimed in, lazily raising his hand and pointing to the source of his relaxation, “This is our pool.”

The woman fired back, fuming, “No, this is our set for the Sexy Dog dog food commercial starring Lighting the TV Wonder Dog.”

Following her gaze across the pool sat the handsome dog, Lighting, getting his black and white fur combed out. His little pair of sunglasses and casanova-style robe would’ve made Roxanne laugh if he wasn’t threatening their relaxation time. The band waved to the little creature as the girl sunk deeper into her chair, determined more than ever to stay rooted in her spot. She would even sleep outside if she had to. Anything for a moment of tranquility.

What even is Sexy Dog dog food?

Before she had the chance to contemplate this further the woman with the clipboard yelled, “Strike the teens!” into her headset. One by one, her friends were picked up by some of the men working on the set and dragged off in the direction of the hotel lobby. A hand made its way to her shoulder causing her to flinch and do her best to wiggle out of the grasp it took on her. Another hand gripped down on her arm, then another two around her ankles as she felt herself pulled slightly up, scaring her even more.

“Let go of me! My friends are hockey players and I swear to you I’ll grab one of their sticks and beat you with it!” Roxy spat out, doing her best to keep her breathing under control as her heart pounded out of fear. Of all the things that happened today, Gustavo yelling at her, Kelly needing her help cleaning the studio, and the boys needing constant supplies through their twelve-hour work day, all she wanted to do was relax. Now she was too terrified to even think about visiting the pool again. “You can carry me to the lobby and I cause a scene or you let go of me and I walk myself.”

The four men glanced at each other, then over to the woman who commanded them to dispose of the unwanted company.

“Fine,” grumbled the woman. “Just get off my set.”

Hands let Roxanne go as she scrambled to her feet, grabbing her small backpack from the slot in between the lounge chairs. Without turning back to the commercial set she made her way toward the lobby. A shiver shot through her body as she flung the door open and mentally cursed out the mean producer. Beside the door, the boys had been dropped down onto the ugly orange couches that decorated the foyer of the hotel - also displeased with the outcome of their relaxation-by-the-pool quest.

As she leaned on the back of the couch seating James and Carlos, she closed her eyes to enjoy the quiet music playing overhead and did her best to forget the feeling of foreign hands on her body.

After a moment, Kendall spoke again, “Well, at least we can recharge in the stylish Palm Woods lobby.”

“Roxy? Are you-” began Carlos before he was cut off by a bitter voice.

“Ah, the five brats from Minnesota…”

Roxanne popped one eye open to see the hotel manager, Reginold Bitters, standing in front of them, a wicked smile crossing his lips.

Logan leaned in, “I’m not getting a friendly vibe.”

“No loitering in the lobby after 9 pm!” The man continued, striking a whiteboard behind him with his stubby fingers to show off the written rule. “Oh,” he gasped, glancing at his watch, “Look at the time. 9:01.”

She already was in a bad mood and this certainly wasn’t helping. Also, when did all these rules come in? The girl couldn’t remember. Maybe she was too tired.

Raising her hand, she posed a question, “Is it loitering if we live here?”

The teens held their breath as Bitters pretended to contemplate her remark.

“Get. Out!”

So, they wound up back in the boys’ apartment.

Roxy’s apartment wasn’t the nicest, but every time she visited 2-J she thanked her lucky stars it wasn’t hers to call home. Everything about it was bland, sad browns and light whites covered the interior giving off an ominous feeling. Watching her step, she was sure to avoid the mysterious stains that covered the floor as they made it over to the old couch in front of the even older TV. On the wall across from the kitchen was a photo of the Knight family at one of Kendall’s hockey games, the only thing noting a personal touch to the ramshackle apartment. Out of everything, she was most excited to see their notebooks on the small, brown coffee table in front of them.

Maybe they won’t ask me for my homework this week.

Big Time Rush took all the seats on the couch leaving their assistant to cross her legs and sit on the floor. Roxanne did her best to ignore the strange puddle of fluid on the carpet inches away and tried for the third time that night to relax with her friends.

“At least there’s the gracious interior of our very own apartment,” Kendall mumbled as the four boys looked around the room presumably having the same thoughts about it as Roxy.

Logan and Carlos spoke their thoughts aloud, “This place is horrible.”

As if on cue, the legs of the couch gave out with a loud creek, toppling to the floor and taking the boys with it. Their assistant suppressed a laugh as their faces grew disappointed.

“Oh, look,” James pointed to the ground beside him, “The couch covers the green stain now.”

“I’m sure Gustavo would love to hear you complaining about his very generous free boarding at a world-famous hotel…” Roxy hummed, poking fun at her friends after their long day.

“Easy for you to say!” Logan shot back, “You’ve got your own place all to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not all fun and games,” The girl said with a yawn. “It just gets a little lonely sometimes.”

“We need a new crib,” Carlos moaned as if it were an easy fix.

Next to him, Logan rolled his eyes, “Like that’s just gonna fall from the sky…”

***

“We call it the ultimate teen crib, filled with amazing home electronics, arcade games…”

Team Big Time Rush sat in a meeting with their bosses and company CEO to come together and decide on a commercial to help promote RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/Sanyoid products using their rising fame. At the front of the room, a set designer was going over the general plan, showing off her drawn image of the set and pointing out the incredible features with her pen.

“And a swirly slide!” Carlos finished her sentence, excitedly pointing to the yellow drawn tube on the example board.

The four boys were leaning in, very interested in the presentation and Roxanne wished their room was half as cool as the new studio set. The girl was lazily taking notes about construction times and costume ideas, sneaking in a few written guitar riffs here and there as she got distracted.

The construction woman winked at Carlos, nearly sending him over the edge.

“Cool, right?” Griffin piped up, looking over at the band trying to find a weird crumb of approval. “Put a swirly slide in my office.”

His assistant, Obdul, quickly nodded his head and rushed out of the room to complete his assigned task.

Next to her, Gustavo grunted. “Griffin, I don’t know what this is, but I need to work with the dawgs on harmonies today.”

Were the seven hours from yesterday not enough?

The thought sat with the girl for a moment before a few lines popped into her head. It had been a while since a lyric had come to her so she grabbed her book a bit more aggressively than normal and flipped through the pages until she found the one with her work in progress.

I’ve gotta keep on believing

That everything takes time

I’ll make up any reason

To make you mine

The CEO did not back down, “Change your plans. Our ancient Japanese founder, Mr. Fujizaki, wants to dump our music division.”

Roxanne’s head snapped up, looking over at the man with wide eyes and then over to Gustavo who shared an equally as worried look.

“But,” He continued, glancing at the band, “you boys are going to change his mind.”

This part of the conversation completely flew over the boy’s heads. They were enamored with the drawing at the front of the room, probably fantasizing about what 2-J would look like with a sweet makeover. Roxy brought her right hand in front of their faces, jotting down music notes for her verse with her left, and snapped her fingers, bringing them back to reality.

“We… get to live there?” Kendall asked, dumbfounded as he pointed to the drawing on the easel.

With a smile, Griffin answered. “Yes… for two hours, while you shoot a promotional video surrounded by RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/ Sanyoid products,” He crossed to the front of the room to face his employees. “Which will show Fujizaki why our future rock stars are perfect for selling his blenders, plasma TVs, and missile defense systems.”

“Uh,” The writer started tentatively, “BTR can’t be pro-missile.”

“Why not?” The man asked, dead serious.

She looked to her boss for help but he was too busy rubbing circles around his temples.

“Well… Our core demographic is teenagers, right? They don’t buy missile defense systems. They want to buy things like video games and Big Time Rush CDs.”

The CEO placed his chin in his hands, as though he was deep in thought. After a moment, he conceded, “Good point, Miss Somerset. Strike the part about missiles in the script.”

A woman on his team with red streaks in her jet-black hair jumped up, gathering a bunch of papers in her arms before running out the door to do some last-minute rewrites.

“Oh,” Griffin added as he sat down at the head of the table, snapping his fingers and pointing to the producer. “Do some interviews.”

Kelly’s pen scribbled even faster than Roxy’s did in order to catch every word the white-haired man spewed out.

“You know, why they love to sing, why he wears that helmet, and why they love RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/Sanyoid arcade games, industrial strength playground slides, and the new XZ5 Micro laptop.”

An assistant placed a tiny black laptop in his hands as he finished speaking so he could show it off to the group. Maybe the writer would be able to swipe one from the set as a little souvenir.

While she was thinking about what she could do with her new laptop, James smacked his hand down on the table. “And we could all wear bandanas! It could be our thing: Bandanas…”

The resounding silence in the room gave the wannabe his answer.

It was Gustavo who decided to break it, “Griffin, you can’t keep coming into my studio every day and interrupting my training sessions.”

A chill swept through the room, causing the girl to shiver as the CEO stared back at his underling.

Did he not hear the part about shutting down the music division?

“Yes, I can. And do the interviews by the water. Fujizaki thinks water is lucky.”

Kelly only stopped writing to ask a question, “But you want a performance in the teen hangout crib thing?”

Once more, the girl thought about taking a micro laptop from the set. No one would really miss one tiny electronic.

“Exactly! And I need it in two days, or the music division will be gone,” Griffin smiled as he stood up. “But have fun with it!”

As he walked out with the construction woman, already beginning to talk about building logistics, Roxy examined the shocked looks on her coworker’s faces. Compared to their first week in Hollywood, this seemed to be an easy challenge. Everything the band had wanted kept falling straight into their laps.

The first person to put their game face on was Kelly. After a quick once-over of her notes, the talent scout had formed a plan. “Okay, we’ll build the teenage crib here in Studio A. I’ll find a nice beach location for the interviews and put in some calls for a hot director.”

Roxanne’s “How about shooting at Santa Monica Pier?” was overshadowed by Gustavo’s “I’m a hot director! And we’re doing everything here because it’s easier, quicker, and cheaper. Dawgs, Roxanne, take a half day while we start to get everything set up.”

No one was going to argue with that.

The ride back to the Palm Woods was silent, which should have alerted the girl that the boys were hatching a plan, but she was too absorbed in her songwriting to notice. Along with the nice verse that had come from the meeting earlier, Roxanne had figured out a small tune that could be placed at the beginning of the song. Her pages were a total mess of writing, music staffs, and doodles as she wrote her ideas down as quickly as possible.

By the time they made it back, she hadn’t even realized how fast the time had gone. Still engrossed, she was in the middle of scratching something out when she felt a hand placed on her shoulder. A vision of the other night flashed across her mind, four guys making their way towards her and grabbing her with such force.

Without thinking, she jumped, her head hitting the top of the car with a thud as the contents of her hands spilled down to the floor.

“Sorry!” A bubbly voice was quick to apologize and when she turned, Carlos was there - practically frozen. The hand he had placed on her shoulder hovered in place next to his helmeted head.

The two stayed like that for a second, processing their exchange, not sure what to do next.

“No,” she bent down to collect her things, “Don’t be sorry! You just startled me, that's all.”

The smile he gave was guilty looking as he stepped out of the way to let her exit the vehicle. Up ahead, she could see the other three making their way into the lobby and followed as fast as she could. Footsteps pounded on the pavement as the black-haired boy caught up to his assistant.

“I’m sorry, really! You have the same look on your face as you did last night-”

“It’s all good, man!” Roxanne pushed out, faking a confident smile. “Let’s head back to your apartment and enjoy our half-day.”

Carlos nodded as the two came to a stop in front of the elevator. It was clear he wanted to talk about it more and she loved that he was so caring, but she needed to sort out her own feelings first.

I’m fine with physical touch, so why did I flinch like that? I trust him!

She stopped her line of thinking there as her friends piled into 2-J, making a beeline for the back wall. Kendall had a piece of poster board in his hands and when he held it up, the band’s plan became clear to her. On the board was the Ultimate Teen Hangout from the presentation earlier, complete with colorful decorations, a better floor plan, and brand new, top-of-the-line electronics, and they wanted the set to be built in their old, gross apartment.

“No. No way. It’s impossible!” Was all Logan could say, hands flying around in the air as he tried to properly articulate his thoughts.

Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Their assistant spoke her mind, “You know I work miracles for you guys, but this might be a little bit out of my limit. But, if we get a little help we might manage to pull this off…”

The board was passed off to the studious boy as Kendall stepped in front of them. Immediately, she could smell speech.

“A week ago, we were a hockey team, and a songwriter, in Minnesota,” The frontman reminded the team. “And today, we’re a band in L.A.! Anything is possible.”

A sigh came from Logan, “Okay. You have a point, but how are we gonna get all this in here?”

Roxanne pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through her contacts list to try and find the name of the company that would be installing the set in Studio A.

As she did this, a smirk appeared across James’ face; he had formed a plan. Flicking his wrist, he held his right arm out, showing off a fist full of colorful bandanas. “Take any color you want.”

Kendall was quick to chime in, “We’re not wearing bandanas in the video, okay?”

“You know what? You guys never support my risky fashion choices!” The long-haired boy retorted.

“Stop!” Roxy called, knowing their bickering could easily escalate. “We have bigger things to worry about right now and a very short time period to convince the set designer to build here, not at Rocque Records.”

“Yeah, that's simple,” Logan said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “And how are we gonna do that?”

The frontman smiled, “Logan, are you forgetting that the Palm Woods is home of the future famous?”

Catching his hint, Roxanne sent a text to someone she knew would always be up for a job.

R: Are you free to help me out this afternoon?

Camille DM’d her back right away.

C: tell me when and where

The band was already out the door before she could reply. Doing her best to text and run, she followed them down the hall and into the stairwell.

R: En route to the lobby. Come give the guys a show ;p

When they made it to the lobby, Kendall held his arms out to stop the group - driving Roxy right into Logan’s back.

“Ouch!” hissed the assistant, hand flying to her nose as Logan whispered a quick apology.

Kendall stood still, arms spread wide as his eyes darted back and forth across the lobby. “Wait for it…”

A hand flew out and smacked him right across the face.

“Trevor! I trusted you with my heart, my soul, my money! I-”

The girl who slapped her friend stood, seething, in front of the band and their assistant. Roxy admired her beautiful black vintage dress and pearl jewelry. She looked like she was auditioning for a soap opera and had definitely nailed the grieving housewife look.

“Camille!” Called Kendall, snapping the actress out of her daze.

Her response was nonchalant. “What?”

“We need to borrow your acting!” Spoke the band in unison as Roxy gave a little wave from behind them.

“I already told Roxy I’d help, but it was sweet of you to come ask in person,” Camille winked in Logan’s direction.

“Great!” The assistant beamed upon her confirmation, “Here’s the plan.”

***

Team Big Time Rush waited anxiously outside of the back door entrance to Rocque Records. After a quick briefing and costume change into something more professional, the five had sent Camille inside in order to tell the set designer about Griffin’s “change of plans” to have everything installed at the Palm Woods. Roxy had even printed out a fake business card with Kendall’s phone number on it instead of Griffin’s that the actress was to hand off to the contractor as a backup.

“Do you think she’s gonna convince them?” Logan asked. He had been fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt for the past few minutes, worried about how much trouble their plan could land them in with Gustavo.

“She’s the best,” The songwriter mused. “We don’t have anything to worry about besides your Griffin impression.”

Beside her, James attempted to join the conversation with, “Of course she’ll convince the contractor. Did you see the way she looked in that -”

Roxanne elbowed him in the ribs before he could finish.

He tried to shoot a retort back but was soon silenced by the ringing of Kendall’s phone. The blond jumbled it in his hands, startled by the shock of the call before he dropped it in Roxy’s palms.

Gripping the cell, she shot him a frustrated look; the agreement was he would answer it, it was his phone after all.

After a fourth ring, she hit the accept button and pulled the phone to her ear.

“Arthur Griffin’s office. One moment, please.”

Hand over the receiver she turned to Logan whose eyes widened in fear.

“You’re up.” She smiled, passing the device and stomping her foot down onto his. “Good luck.”

A yelp escaped his lips as he brought the phone to his ear. Clearing his throat, he answered in a voice much deeper than his own. “Hello? Uh-huh. Yes. Move that set to the Palm Woods, now. Okay, I need to touch my llama now. Bye.”

Camille slid beside the girl before the end of the call, watching Logan very intently. When the impersonator hung up the phone, the band erupted in cheers.

“I owned them in there!” Camille stated, giving Roxy a high five. The two laughed among themselves before Logan’s stress began to boil over.

“All you’ve done is set us up for big-time trouble!”

Roxanne stepped in front of the actress. “We all agreed to this plan, it isn’t Camille's fault!”

Kendall sighed, “Oh, our little Logey, so pessimistic.”

“So scared of everything,” Carlos chimed in.

“So bad at impressions,” Scoffed the writer.

Their hired actress finished “And so incredibly hot.”

Roxy stifled a laugh as the four boys turned to her, trying to pick apart her addition to their conversation. Their assistant already knew how hard Logan would eventually fall for her friend - he just needed a bit of time to realize how into him Camille was.

Shaking his head and trying to get the thought out of his mind, Logan continued, “I’m not scared of everything and I’m not bad at impressions! I’m just realistic, as in, what are gonna tell your mom about the crew that’ll be invading your apartment tomorrow from 11-3?”

“Let’s talk shop at a different time.” Their assistant warned them, gesturing at the studio door to the side of them. “We need to get back to the hotel to talk about this before someone hears us.”

The ride back was quick and full of silence as the team formulated their next move. They arrived at 2-J, and the boys were too busy sitting down at the dinner table to ask Mrs. Knight if she needed any help in the kitchen.

“Hi, Mrs. Knight!” Roxanne greeted, “Anything I can help you with?”

The offer was met with a kind smile, “It’s alright, honey, thank you very much! How about you go join the boys at the table? I’ve just gotta bring this plate of hot dogs out.”

“Sure,” the girl said, “Just let me help with the dishes after.”

Grabbing a bottle of water for herself from the fridge, Roxy made her way to the table. Sitting down, she examined her friends who were all still deep in thought about how tomorrow was going to play out. Everything had to be perfect or else they would never get the apartment of their dreams.

“Hey! I almost forgot,” The redheaded woman laughed to herself as she addressed the teens, “I’m gonna go look for a job tomorrow, so I’ll be gone from about 11-3.”

The plate of food was set down on the table and Carlos reached for it hungrily, scaring Kendall’s mother who sighed and quickly left the room, mumbling something about needing to find an outfit to wear at the interviews.

“No way,” Roxy whispered in disbelief. “You guys must be, like, the luckiest people on the planet. How does everything always go your way?”

James threw a glance her way, “It’s not luck. When you’re naturally this good-looking, the world works with you, not against you.”

Silence washed over the room as the assistant tried not to laugh at his ridiculous comment. What a way to see the world.

“Okay, that happened,” Logan sighed from across the table. The girl wasn’t sure if he was talking about Mrs. Knight’s comment or James’ comment. “But what now?”

More focused on the food than the conversation at hand, Carlos continued to devour his third hot dog. The boy must have noticed his assistant eyeing the plate in the middle of the table, so he lifted it up and held it in her direction. With thanks, she took one of the dogs, still waiting for Kendall’s reply. On the side of her, James was too busy tying bandanas around his wrists to contribute as well.

“I have no idea,” Was the frontman’s shaky response. “Frankly, I can’t believe we got this far.”

Fair enough. Hope we can go further. Roxanne thought about the big TV from the stock image. It would be a great place to watch concert videos and the surround sound might make it seem like she’s actually there. I really need that TV.

“Hey, look!” James exclaimed, pulling her away from her daydream as he showed off a colorful smattering of bandanas tied around his wrist, “Wrist-danas.”

The four ignored him.

“So, next we worry about Gustavo,” Roxy stated, not sure where to go from there.

Kendall bounced off of that, “We need to find someone who can think like him, someone who can get inside his head.”

“Where could we even find someone that devious?” The writer wondered out loud as Kendall’s little sister, Katie, emerged from her room. “Oh, perfect!”

Katie, after a brief rundown of the situation, disappeared for about 10 minutes before reemerging with a drawn-out plan on a whiteboard. The group huddled around the brown coffee table in front of the broken couch towards the back of the apartment as she began her presentation.

The way Katie spoke was dignified and commanding, “First, you’re gonna need more future stars from the Palm Woods. I recommend the Jennifers for their lack of fear.”

Roxanne jotted down basic notes in her book as a reference.

“Next, you’ll need cordless power tools, sawdust, cool code phrases, and -”

From behind her, Kendall held his hand up, “Wait, Katie. Where did you get the whiteboard?”

Is that really important right now?

“I swiped it off Bitters,” The girl had a very guilty look on her face, despite the fact she felt no guilt. “Speaking of Bitters, you have to keep him in his cage all day.”

Exchanging glances, the five knew that wouldn’t be hard at all.

“But the key to this whole ultra 2-J makeover is convincing Gustavo to shoot the interviews by the pool like the dog food commercial Roxanne complained about all last night.”

At the mention of this, Roxy turned beet-red. “What? I never told you about the commercial.”

“No, you didn’t, but you told Camille on the phone last night. We share a wall, remember?” Katie said coolly.

“I’ll remind the contractors to put extra soundproofing in the walls then…” She dropped the sentence.

“Anyway,” Kendall shifted the conversation, “Once our teen dream remodeling is complete, Gustavo will have no time and no choice but to shoot our rock performance right here.”

Heads nodded in agreement as Katie finished stating her terms, “And I get the first turn on the swirly slide.”

Though he had been inactive this entire conversation, Carlos interjected, “I get first turn on the swirly slide!”

“I do.”

“No! I do!’

“You can go together!” Yelled Roxy, ending the fight there.

We always have bigger fish to fry.

Beside her, James stood up, tightening a teal bandana behind his head. Game face on, he turned to his friends, confident. “Let’s do this.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wad of colored bandanas.

“We’re not wearing bandanas!” His friends shot back.

“Bandanas are cool.” The tall boy finished with a pout, not ready to give up on his mission just yet.

With that, each team member retreated back to their rooms with a clear plan in place for how they were going to con their boss in the morning.

***

“Oh yea, and I say so!”

Despite it being so early in the morning, Gustavo was yelling at Kelly as the band turned the corner of the studio level of Rocque Records with their assistant.

“He’s in a bad mood,” Logan hissed, “Abort mission.”

“Mr. Rocque is always in a bad mood,” Roxy stated matter-of-factly as she placed her hand on his arm to help calm him down.

The frontman whispered, “Just stay cool. If we fail, we fail.” As he fidgeted with the printed sample pictures they had taken earlier by the pool to convince their boss the Palm Woods pool was a prime water location.

When they reached the section of the studio that was supposed to be where the interviews were filmed, the ugliest backdrop the teens had ever seen was set up with a cacophony of ocean sounds coming from a small boombox in the corner of the room. The background showed a scene of the beach with a few palm trees to the left, but it was crinkled and ripped in places making it very obvious to onlookers that this was not truly shot near any kind of real water.

As the team approached, Gustavo held his hand up in a ‘stop’ motion, looking at something on Kelly’s phone. “Heel. Stay. Speak.”

What the hell… He really thinks they’re dogs.

With a nudge from Roxanne, Kendall began pitching, “We took some pictures of the pool at the Palm Woods. The greatest pool ever, very lucky water.”

“It’s a great location for the interviews,” the assistant chimed in.

Carlos backed her up, “Hot directors shoot there all the time! Swirly Sli-”

Before he could finish, James smacked him upside the head, in fear their cover would be blown.

Gustavo handed the photos off to Kelly, who had an amused smile on her face as she examined the silly pictures of the guys Roxy had taken and printed out before they came to work.

“Oh, the dawgs are directing my video now? Well, let me tell you how it works here.” His tone was getting more angry as the volume of his voice increased. “You are the dawgs and I am the trainer. Now, sit.”

So I’m a dog now too? Great.

None of the teens sat on his command, trying to prove his point incorrect.

“Don’t sit,” Gustavo ordered.

Ultimately, Roxy didn’t get the memo the rest of her friends were sitting down until Carlos gently grasped her wrist and pulled her backward. She fell onto the back of the couch next to him, very surprised he didn’t startle her.

“Sorry, again,” He whispered, “I tried to be more gentle this time.”

Her smile was genuine as she told him, “It’s okay, I think it’s just people grabbing me, uh, roughly, that’s been freaking me out lately.”

Next to Carlos, James popped his head around the black-haired boy. He had a look of concern on his face, a side of him she had never seen before. “What? Did something happen?”.

Meanwhile, Kelly and Gustavo were deliberating at the front of the room, not paying attention to the teens' conversation.

“No, no,” she waved her hands in an X motion to try and get them off her case. “Everything is just fine.”

“Then why are you talking about people grabbing you?” The bandana wearer shot back.

“What?” Kendall and Logan had joined the conversation now.

“Nothing! I was just freaked out by the guys who kicked us off the Sexy Dog Dog Food set the other night,” She tried to figure out a way to change the subject but the boys wouldn’t drop it.

Still whispering, Logan asked, “Those guys bothered you? Didn’t you walk to the lobby alone? ”

“Yes, I did. After I threatened to beat them with a hockey stick. It was just scary, okay?”

“Nice going with the hockey stick thing…” Carlos thought aloud. “But tell us next time so we can beat the snot out of those guys!”

The other three nodded their heads in agreement.

It would be a lie if she told herself their words didn’t mean anything, but in all fairness, she had only known them for a week.

“Thanks. I just need some processing time, so can we talk about it when I’m ready?”

Conveniently, Kelly and Gustavo’s squabble had launched onto a more massive scale as the woman walked over to the couch and stood with the teens. She was team Palm Woods pool.

“This pool looks great,” Kelly said, “And it’s close enough that we could be back here by 3 to shoot the performance at the ultrateen hangout place.”

The band backed her up with words of encouragement and looked to Gustavo in hopes he would change his mind. In the meantime, Roxanne stared at her shoes as more scenes from the other night popped into her head.

I appreciate those idiots but they don't know when to stop.

In an attempt to keep images of last night out of her mind, the girl did her best to focus on her musical work in progress. Maybe she could squeeze a couple of productive lyrics out, but she knew she was too unfocused to come up with anything on the fly.

“No!” Erupted Gustavo, leading all eyes to him. “You do what I say, and I say no, no, no!”

With every “no!” came a stomp of his foot. He looked like a child throwing a tantrum as he jumped up and down, yelling at his team. On the final “no!”, the wires holding up the terrible beach backdrop snapped, causing the light fixtures to tumble down with it. The canvas felt at the man’s feet, revealing a man on a ladder holding up a prop seagull.

When he saw the destroyed set behind him, he faced the team once more, a grimace forming on his face. “Hey, uh, let’s do the interviews at the Palm Woods.”

So, to the hotel they went.

Gustavo took the film crew to the back right corner of the pool in order to get the appropriate interview shots and lighting, while Kelly negotiated with Bitters over a multitude of fees necessary in order to use the location. During this, the band was sent to hair and makeup while their assistant confirmed the plan with everyone helping them in the lobby. Once the hotel manager was in his office, they would strike.

As Roxanne went to join the band at their station, she passed the cranky man, signaling their plan was about to be set in motion.

Katie popped up from behind her brother’s chair, a text tone going off on her little flip phone. “The bird is in the cage and the Jennifers are in place.”

On her signal, Kendall addressed the group, “Okay, team, remember your missions. James, you stall Gustavo. Carlos, Katie, and Camille, you head to Rocque Records and fake build the ultrateen crib, while Rox, Logan, and I install the swirly slide and all those other electronic goodies.”

The girl liked the way his green eyes lit up at the mention of the electronics.

I am so getting my TV.

From across the pool, Gustavo yelled, “Okay, James is up first! I’ll shoot the rest of you dawgs later.”

Shuttering at his potential double meaning, the writer hoped everything went according to plan.

“Knock ‘em dead, James.” Roxy encouraged, punching his arm.

“Good luck kiss?” He offered, leaning one of his cheeks a bit too close to her face.

The assistant rolled her eyes as she pulled back, “Move or I’ll threaten to beat you with a hockey stick too.”

Scrambling away, James took his seat in front of the camera, more than ready for his close up. Logan beckoned her over to where he and Kendall were standing as he muttered the details of the plan to himself. Meanwhile, the blond spread a thick eye-black under his eyes, face stone cold. With a wave, he showed off the dark material on his fingers. “Want any, Rox?”

“Doesn’t go with my outfit.”

“It’ll increase your stealth by 300 percent.”

For the first time that day, she laughed. The morning had been so stressful getting everything in place there had been no time to focus on anything else. So for now, she let herself enjoy the calm before the storm.

“How can I argue with that?” Roxanne leaned closer, letting him smear the cold concoction under her left eye. “You know, that sounded like something your sister would say.”

His eyebrows raised as the thought turned over in his mind, moving onto her right eye. “She had to get it from somewhere.”

“Are you guys done?” Logan interrupted, he looked so scared he was practically shaking in his shoes. “We need to get out of here before something goes wrong.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Roxy assured him. “Now get over here, you need some of this stuff too. It’ll reduce your anxiety by 300 percent.”

Though the boy did not appreciate her joke about his nerves, he allowed Kendall to apply the cream under his eyes as well. Once done with that, Logan dragged his team members to the entrance of the hotel to check on the construction crew.

A conveniently placed planter with a handful of young trees in it was their hiding place and Logan dug out three hats with fake, yet similar, shrubbery hot glued to the top, ensuring no one would break their cover. He plopped one on Roxy’s head - still complaining about the eye-black. Along with the tree hats, Kendall had apparently stashed a boombox preloaded with the Mission Impossible theme which began to play as they waited.

They’re so weird.

Perfectly on time, the white truck with the construction company logo they were looking for roared to a stop in front of the building, at 11 am on the dot. Time to tell Brown-Haired Jennifer.

“Roll out!” Kendall whispered and the three took off running to the lobby.

The crew was too preoccupied getting their supplies out of the truck bed to notice three teens with trees on their heads taking off from behind the planter.

Ignoring the weird looks from hotel patrons, they made their way to where Jennifer was standing in an official Palm Woods uniform. How she managed to get a hold of that, she didn’t know, but wouldn’t put it past Camille to have one on loan from her large wardrobe.

“Jennifer, you’re up,” Kendall said with a charming smile. The three made to take off again, to 2-J this time, but the actress held her hand up to stop them.

“Just to be clear,” her tone was malicious. “We get to be in the video, which will be seen by a lot of people, right?”

Their drive for fame was something to be admired.

“Are you kidding?” Roxy piped up, scoffing, “It’s gonna be seen in Japan!”

She conveniently left out the part about the project being more like an ad, than a music video.

Logan threw in a wink and finger guns for good measure before the team pushed past the pleased girl to get to the next plant potter inside the lobby. Jumping to clear the height, she barely made it over before the set designer walked into the lobby. Hopefully, the swinging branches wouldn’t be too suspicious.

To no one's surprise, Brown-Haired Jennifer executed her role perfectly and the contractors began to make their way to the elevators. Now that their plan was fully coming together Roxy watched in awe as the swirly slide pieces were carried through the lobby, knowing her TV was soon to follow.

As the parade of supplies slowly came to end, they stood up to follow.

“I still say this is a bad idea,” Logan complained.

“Hey, a life without risk is a life unlived, my friend.” The frontman assured him as Roxy nodded along.

They really needed to get going, so in an attempt to remind the boys, she tugged on their sleeves and nodded towards the elevator, “Now, off to 2-H.”

Roxanne and Kendall exited their place from behind the planter, making good time to the elevators before they realized a member of their team had been left behind. When she stopped, she could see Logan from behind the palm fronds pinching the bridge of his nose.

Wow, these hats don’t work at all.

“Kendall, wait up,” She called ahead, returning back to where she stood moments ago. Holding out her hand, she offered a gentle smile to the nervous boy. “We’re not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to, but we’ve already gotten this far. We might as well see it through.”

It took a moment for him to consider his options with a very contemplative face. When his expression softened, he glanced between Roxy and Kendall still weighing his options.

“Okay, okay.” He sighed, taking her hand. “But we better not get caught.”

From there, Roxy practically dragged him into the elevator Kendall had been holding.

“How do you think everyone else is doing?” The girl wondered, taking out her phone to see if she had any SOS texts from her friends. “No messages from anyone so far.”

“Good, good.” The blond repeated, seemingly lost in thought.

Ding!

They exited the elevator and made a beeline for the girl’s apartment. Though she fumbled with the keys, eventually she got the door open and the three had a moment to catch their breath.

Various construction-like noises came from the apartment next door, a sign that the set was in the process of being built.

Kendall was overjoyed. “So far, so good.”

Walking over to her window, Roxy pushed the curtains back, revealing James still shooting his interview by the pool. Everything seemed to be going great down there; Gustavo didn’t even have a red face yet and they had been shooting for quite some time.

“All good at the pool too.”

The boys rummaged through her fridge looking for some water.

After he had grabbed a bottle, Kendall noticed the worry on his friend's face, gently placing his hand on Logan’s shoulder, a confident smirk marking his face. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

Peeking out the window again, she saw Gustavo silently scream at James.

“I lied, he’s starting to yell again.”

“It’s okay!” Kendall assured his assistant. “James once kept the principal of Twin Oaks High occupied for 3 hours while we trashed their locker rooms.”

Her eyebrows raised in interest, but that would have to be a story for another time. Moving the curtains again, she saw Gustavo chasing after James.

“Oh, wow, Gustavo is going to kill him.”

The three exchanged worried glances, they all wanted to help their friend, but the risk of getting caught was far too great.

Buzz buzz

Checking the caller ID, on his phone, Kendall’s face went pale.

“It’s the set designer.”

Knowing this meant she was up, Roxy’s palm hit her face. “Ugh, give it here.”

“Guys, I’m worried…” Logan started, but the girl held a finger to her lips as she took the phone from Kendall.

“Arthur Griffin’s office. One moment please.” As she did before, her foot smashed down onto Logan’s as she placed the phone on speaker mode before handing it off to the pained boy.

Thankfully, his Griffin impression pulled through.

“Hello.”

“About that stage door-”

“Just build it!” He hissed, quickly glancing from his assistant to Kendall.

The two shared an odd look for a moment, but there was too much going on for Roxy to decipher what they were talking about.

“Yeah… okay… Also, the room’s too small. So if you want that swirly slide to fit, we’re gonna have to bust into the ceiling. Is that okay?”

No way. Roxanne immediately shook her head back and forth. They were already going to get in trouble with Gustavo if James had him on the run and now they could get in trouble for far more property damage than they already were. This was turning into a bad idea.

Logan placed his hand on the receiver, “Break through the ceiling?” His tone was a pained whisper. “No, no. We’ll be arrested.”

“Uh, sir, can we demolish the ceiling?”

Her pleading eyes met Kendall’s; the blond shook his head in defeat.

Immediately, Logan gave his reply, “Yes.”

The sound of power tools practically shook the building as the boy hung up.

“You better be right about this taking risks thing.”

The girl was too stunned to speak. All she could do now was try and come up with an explanation that would get them in the least amount of trouble.

“Fire in the hole!”

A shout came from next door, followed by a terrible boom. The writer placed her hands over her ears and shut her eyes, feeling the blow shake the ground.

When she opened her eyes again, Kendall had Logan in his arms as the poor boy shook.

“You guys are massive, massive idiots. No way Bitters doesn’t know something’s up now. We need to go!”

The front door was opened and the three piled out, running smack dab into the Jennifers in the hall.

Brown-Haired Jennifer yelled, “Code red, Bitters is on his way!”

Another boom echoed in the halls.

“What is going on out here?” The manager’s shrill voice grew closer.

Opening her mouth the answer, the writer was quickly cut off by the frontman, “Please tell me you guys are good at teen scream horror flicks.”

Blonde Jennifer took off her sunglasses and the other two followed suit, rolling their eyes in sync. “They’re desperate… We want talking parts in your next three videos, you do all our ironing for the next month, and we sing backup on your next track.”

They’re definitely not going to do any of that.

“Done!” Logan sealed the deal.

“Where’s the ketchup?”

Kendall held up a full bottle.

“Hey! That’s from my fridge!” Roxy grumbled, but he was too busy squirting it on the actresses to listen.

When he finished, the team made way for the pool as the girls ran down the hall, screaming as though their lives depended on it.

“Man, they’re good.” The girl mused as their act led Bitters back down to the lobby. “Now we have to focus on Gustavo.”

Going the opposite way of the hotel manager to avoid being seen, the three reached the elevators and pressed the button for the first floor.

“We’ve just gotta keep him occupied for one more hour,” Kendall stated confidently.

It was going to be hard, but not impossible.

“As long as each of you stretches out your interviews, we should be golden. Plus I can get a smoothie or something and pretend to spill it on one of your costumes to slow production down as well.” The writer thought aloud as they entered the elevator.

Despite the mess and the chaos and the general uncertainty of their plan, Logan was grinning ear to ear as he brushed off what his teammates had said, “I can’t believe it, I think we’re actually gonna make it. I’m not even scared!”

Ding

Elevator doors opened to reveal a very angry Gustavo and a very annoyed Bitters, who held a french fry covered in ketchup. As if they were now starring in a teen scream flick, the band members shrieked and Roxy felt herself freeze in fear.

“Why are the Jennifers dripping ketchup all over my Palm Woods?” Bitters knew why, but still made a point of dragging his question out in hopes of a confession. Gustavo plucked the fry from the manager's hand.

“Dawgs, interviews, now!”

Their boss reached his hands out and grabbed hold of the boy’s shirts, balling his fists to ensure they wouldn’t escape. Trying to give words of encouragement in an attempt to calm the situation down, their assistant rushed after them to plead with the producer. Her efforts went to waste as Gustavo kept dragging the two out to the pool. Though her friends' eyes begged her not to leave them, Bitters had entered the elevator and she couldn’t risk their plan being blown wide open.

Stairs were the fastest option, so that’s where she went. As she practically sprinted, she could still hear the loud sounds of the power tools being used to build the set on the second floor. When she turned the corner, Bitters was at the end of the hallway.

She moved to try and block him from reaching the room, but a flash of purple wooshed by her, and a figure hid her from the manager’s view. The new challenger and Bitters stood off for a moment before the figure screamed, scaring the manager who quickly retreated; a nearby supply closet was his respite as he barricaded himself inside. From the end of the hall, dumbfounded as she watched the entire exchange, Roxy heard the figure laugh and lock the man inside the room, wedging a single bandana inside the frame to seal the man in.

When the person turned around, he and the girl faced each other. He was clad in a black shirt and skinny jeans with a cape and mask fashioned out of purple bandanas.

“James?”

The boy took his mask off, ruffling his hair. “And they said bandanas weren’t cool?”

“They’re not,” A smile danced across her face. “But thanks for your help. Hopefully, that’ll keep Bitters occupied for a while.”

The hero walked over to his assistant, gently taking her hand and placing a light kiss on the back of it. “Bandana Man is at your service, always.”

It was hard to ignore the turning of her stomach as she let her hand fall out of his. Roxanne cleared her throat and looked anywhere but where he stood, “I’ll be sure not to reveal your secret identity…”

As if on cue, the whirring of power tools came to a stop, highlighting the silence of the hall as the two stood there, unsure of what to do next.

“Uh, we can hide at my place? Gustavo’s bound to be here any second” Roxy suggested, fishing in her pockets for her keys.

“No!” James blurted, very quickly after her offer. “No, that’ll be the, uh, first place he looks.”

Her eyes narrowed, “He’d go to your place, not mine.”

As the boy sighed, shaking his head, the door to 2-J opened. They jumped, trying to find a place to hide from the construction workers. At the end of the hall was the door to the stairwell and right now, that was as good a place as any - her room was on the opposite side of the newly renovated apartment; they wouldn’t be able to get there without being seen. Hands flew to her shoulders, scaring her, as James forcefully pushed her down the hall and onto the landing between staircases.

Moments after the pair took refuge in the stairwell and she harshly swatted his hands away, having trouble controlling her breathing. Roxanne’s hands were shaking slightly as she wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead.

Realizing her panicked state was the result of his actions, the boy paled, “Shit, sorry… I am so, so sorry, Roxy, I forgot what you said earlier.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” She pushed out between shaky breaths. Sinking down to the floor, she continued, “I trust you… You were just trying to help me.”

Eyes growing wide, he dropped down next to her. Neither of them said a word as she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, trying to gain control of her pounding heart.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

“Did you hear what the ocean said to the beach?”

Roxanne sat up and turned to face James through labored breaths, one eyebrow raised. “What are you doing?”

He faced her as well, “Why would the ocean say ‘what are you doing’ to the beach? That would be a terrible joke.”

“I think you should stick with singing, comedy really isn’t the move for you,” She shot back, chuckling at her own joke.

A smile graced his lips as well, “In a roundabout way, it got you laughing so I’m calling that a win.”

“You were trying to make me laugh?” Her giggles were starting to hurt her cheeks. “With a terrible joke like that? So stupid.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s helping at the moment.”

A strange, but comfortable silence washed over the stairwell for a moment, before the assistant turned to her friend. “Give me one of those bandanas you had earlier.”

Eyes lighting up, James pulled a fist full from his pocket, but before he handed them over he clicked his tongue, “You could at least say please.”

“Please…” Roxy sighed, reaching out and picking a bright red and white patterned cloth, “...Don’t push your luck.”

As she tied up her hair using the bandana, their eyes met for a brief moment and neither of them realized the other looked away to hide the light shade of pink their cheeks were turning.

Buzz

When she was finished, Roxy pulled her phone out of her back pocket to see a text message from Kelly, bringing her thoughts back to the situation at hand.

K: r u with the guys rn?

R: Kendall and Logan are at the pool for their interviews

R: Carlos, James, and I are in my apartment for a break

K: hm rlly?

K: Sent a photo

“Do you think the Crib has a built-in panic room?” Roxanne posed the question aloud, moving to stand back up.

James looked at her quizzically, “Why would it need one of those?”

She held her phone to his eye level, showing the photo Kelly had sent her of Camille, Katie, and Carlos covered in sawdust sitting on the floor of Studio A.

“Because we are so dead.”

A scream that could only belong to Gustavo Rocque echoed throughout the Palm Woods hotel, causing the pair to run as fast as they could to the end of the hall and patiently wait outside the apartment. Construction of the Ultrateen Crib in apartment 2-J had taken a lot quicker than planned, even after they blew into the ceiling - as evidenced by the producer's extreme reaction.

By the time it took to gather all of the film crew by the pool and the missing parts of Team BTR to get to the hotel from Rocque Records, the set had been completed. It was everything the teens had dreamed of.

From the moment the door was blown down by their angry boss, the renovated apartment captured every part of Roxanne’s attention, pulling it in a million ways. Of course, she was first drawn to the expensive TV and stereo system at the back of the room, so this was where she situated herself. On one end of their new bright orange couch, she sat and examined the room, while James jumped on the other side. Instead of the original brown and drabby walls, 2-J had splashes of blue, yellow, green, and white on every wall, giving the room a funhouse vibe. As for the arcade games and toys that covered the walls, she couldn’t even describe the massive quantity that had been placed neatly all around the room. Kendall moved about the room trying to test out all of the games, making sure they were up to the band’s standards. Electric guitars brandished the wall above the entryway, a touch she personally loved.

Do those actually work…? The most notable feature was the bright yellow swirly slide which was attached to a small staircase and loft high above her head. Katie and Carlos were atop it, waiting for the first chance to break in the large tube. Though the thing that shocked the assistant the most was the newly redesigned kitchen. State-of-the-art appliances and a brand new sink, fit with a garbage disposal and dishwasher, would make Mrs. Knight very happy. Attached was a small breakfast bar with four swivel chairs, one of which Logan kept spinning himself around in.

Their boss stood smack in the middle of the room, still screaming, with the set designer behind him, looking very accomplished with herself. Kelly, though astonished, brandished a worried look on her face as her eyes kept darting around the room and back to Gustavo, in fear of his next move.

Clapping the man on the shoulder, the designer commended herself and her team, “It came out really good, huh?”

Before anyone else could speak Kendall jumped in, “It came out amazing!”

Gustavo and Kelly were still unable to muster up their words as they kept looking around the room in disbelief. From the top of the loft, Carlos yelled, “Swirly slide!” as he and Katie jumped in, dumping out at the bottom onto a black, cushy mat in a fit of giggles.

Gustavo let out an inhuman noise and turned to Kelly who informed him that there was no time to move the set back to the studio if they wanted the commercial to be filmed on time. The man made the noise again. Kelly sighed, “The video has to be great for Fujizaki or we are out of a job.”

Oh yeah, the writer reminisced, having completely forgotten about the purpose of the commercial. Like the guys, she had allowed herself to get sidetracked in order to get the apartment of their dreams. As their boss slowly made his way over to Kendall, pure rage in his eyes, she was knocked from her thoughts. Hands landed on both sides of the boy’s arms as Gustavo shook him back and forth, groaning the whole time.

“Light it, and shoot it!” The producer yelled, completely out of time to undo any of the damage the band and their assistant had done.

***

“Cut! Print!”

The commercial filming went off without a hitch and as soon as her boss called time, Roxanne ran out into the living room to provide the guys with water and towels after their dance routine. Completing the interviews out by the pool had been easy once the four didn’t have to stall their boss any longer, so the mini-music video in the crib was the last thing they had to complete before it made its way off to the video editors.

“And strike the set!”

She stopped dead in her tracks. Several people immediately descended upon the apartment and began to take down decorations and place them into the hallway, returning the apartment to its original dreary interior.

“Where are you going with that?” The frontman practically yelled. He and the band were melting into a state of distress as their assistant forced each one of them to take the items she had prepared.

The set designer turned to the group, shrugging as she acted like the answer was obvious to the teens when clearly, it wasn’t. “Back to the warehouse. Where else would it go?”

The four of them protested as Roxy tried to cope with their major loss in real time, hoping it wouldn’t affect them in the long run.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gustavo sneered, bursting into an evil laugh. “Did you dawgs think you were gonna get to keep this stuff?”

As he continued his jeering, Carlos witnessed the breaking down of the swirly slide and howled as if he were in immense pain.

Their boss took no notice of this as he continued, “The little dawgs thought they outsmarted the big dawg.”

Barking came from behind Roxy, causing her to jump and drop a few towels to the floor. Turning around, she observed Gustavo barking in Kendall and James’ faces.

What a weirdo.

Too exhausted to even pick up her mess, she let the destruction crew whisk the towels away as she stood still and watched the scene unfold around her. The beautiful colored walls were painted over in the same terrible beige color 2-H was and the orange couch was hauled off to be replaced with the old, broken one from before. At one point, she even had to jump over a roll of moving floor as the disgusting stained carpet was rolled back out. With nowhere else to go, the band fell back onto the couch as Roxy took her seat on the brown ground.

Bosses poised in front of them, the teens had accepted their defeat.

“I do have to admit,” Gustavo stated, his hands framing his view of the band and their assistant, “We did get some pretty great stuff today. Let’s just hope Fujizaki thinks so tomorrow.”

***

To say the company meeting took forever would be an understatement.

Each and every branch of Rocque Records had to share their annual stats and budget projections for the upcoming year while the company founder, Fujizaki, snored on a small video screen at the front of the room. The whole time, Roxanne sat next to the band anxiously tapping her heeled Mary Janes on the floor to the beat of her song as the tune filled the room when their commercial finally began to play. One of the best things about the song “Big Time Rush” was how it fit for just about any occasion - plus, the boys had nailed their routine to it, seeing as they had no other songs to worry about at the moment.

Kelly, Gustavo, and Roxy were the only members of Team BTR who seemed to get the ‘business’ dress code which made her even more uncomfortable as she fiddled with the edge of her black skirt and took meeting notes when something managed to capture her interest. Next to them, the boys were dressed in their everyday casual clothing, not even paying attention to the video on the screen.

Though she hated to admit it, Gustavo was right about getting some great shots on the set yesterday. Even after all the trouble the five had gone through, the boys gave a great performance. The dance routine to “Big Time Rush” spliced together with the personal interviews and product placement served as a wonderful ad for RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/Sanyoid and for the band themselves.

Hello, international markets.

When the commercial ended, all heads in the room turned to face the company founder on the screen at the other end of the room. It took quite a few moments, but in the end, Fujizaki was able to give his final declaration.

“I like the boys!”

Cheers broke through all divisions of Rocque Records as Roxy finally breathed a sigh of relief. One more day she didn’t have to worry about losing her job. The teens exchanged hi-fives and, after clear permission, the band crushed their assistant in a giant hug - thanking her for her help in getting the set built in 2-J and another thanks for her song.

After, she noticed Gustavo had moved in closer to them, black-tinted glasses obscuring his facial expression. Roxy shuffled backward, but still ended up right next to Kendall - in front of the other three band members - as their boss started them down.

“So…” Kendall accepted the challenge. “We learned a lot here today didn’t we?”

“Yeah, uh,” Their assistant tried to muster up a few words after the sweet encouragement her friends had just given her. “You did some things. We did some things -”

“Ten hours of harmonies! Ten hours of piano practice! No breaks!”

Harmonies were normal for the band, but piano practice?

“Mr. Rocque?” Roxy questioned. “I don’t play the piano.”

“Oh, is that so?” His voice mimicked a higher, softer tone but it was clear he was being sarcastic. “Well, you do know! Move out!”

The five teens turned and trudged out of the room, heads bowed to the floor, dreading the rest of the day before them. Kelly, for the most part, oversaw harmony practice as she ran around the studio floor doing this and that for Gustavo, who was overseeing Roxy’s piano practice. The man grumbled as he handed the girl a ‘Piano for Beginners’ book saying something about how it would be easier to collaborate on songs if they knew similar instruments.

Much to their luck, minutes turned to hours. Their hard work had left them no time to even think about how much longer it would take the day to be over until it eventually was. Roxy ran through her mental checklist as they trudged through the lobby of the Palm Woods, hoping she would have enough tea, lemon, and honey to make the boys something to soothe their throats and would have to dig through her first aid kit for some pain killers to soothe her aching hands.

As much as they wanted to relax by the pool they had learned their lesson the other night so they went straight to 2-J without another thought. Kendall dug out his keys and opened the door, yet as they walked in something about the band’s vibe shifted from gloom to glee. Picking her head up to see what was the matter, she found the interior of their apartment had been renovated once again to fit the original Ultrateen Crib.

Someone slid down the swirly slide hitting the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” Katie shouted, throwing her arms in the air.

Mrs. Knight was lounging on the orange couch in front of the entertainment system, waiting for the teens to come home. She gave the trademark Knight family smirk as she held up her hands to show off their new space, “Well, I love what you’ve done with the place.”

Big Time Rush looked at each other in disbelief before running over to the foosball hockey dome in the center of the room. Standing in awe, their assistant ended up simply looking around making sure every detail she noticed earlier was back in place, including the guitars she would most definitely try to steal.

“Uh,” A deep voice let out behind her, causing her to whip around and see Gustavo and Kelly standing at the entryway to the apartment. All the teens could do was stop and stare at their bosses. “...Good job today.”

Kelly had a big smile plastered across her face as she clutched her black ledger to her chest.

“This is awesome!” Kendall blurted, genuinely thankful for the adult’s actions.

Gustavo took his dark sunglasses, “This is a bone.”

“Come again?” Blinked Logan.

“I realized today, sort of, that if you really want to train dogs properly, you need to throw them a treat now and then.” The man continued. “So, enjoy your treat. You’re not getting anymore.”

For once, I’m kinda jealous of these four.

Apartment 2-H wasn’t as bad as 2-J had been before, but now in comparison, it was a total dump. Safe to say she’d be spending far more time here in the future. The box full of movies in her closet was calling to her, begging to be played over the surround-sound television.

Kelly checked her notes before adding, “We lost a day of rehearsal because of the shoot, so it’s at the studio, 7:30 am.”

“I’ll get them there!” Roxy squeaked, finding it hard to suppress her own excitement about the renovations. “No problem!”

Stepping up next to her, Carlos lightly placed a gentle hand on her arm as he spoke to the adults, “We promise, no more surprises.”

A cracking sound came from the pale blue wall by the kitchen. Roxy took one step back as the boys took one step forward allowing herself to hide behind their tall frames. More busting sounds arose as part of the wall came crumbling down, revealing Bitters covered in plaster dust as he fell to the floor. When he finally managed to get himself up after a few seconds of struggle, he noticed the apartment had been slightly tweaked.

“You’ve altered this room…” He didn’t sound like he was fully in the present. “You’ve completely devastated this apartment!”

Roxy met James’ eyes and the two shared a quick, suppressed laugh.

Pointing to the older man, Logan turned around to look at his tall friend. “You locked him in the supply closet?”

“No! Bandana Man did.”

“It’s true!” Their assistant said, trying to hold back giggles as she remembered their time together. “I was there, it was Bandana Man. James came and found me after.”

Bitters ignored them. “This is a total lease violation!” His eyes wandered around the room once more. “Man, cool swirly slide,” He pondered another moment. “I want all of you out of here tomorrow!”

The woman next to him opened her ledger, a sadistic smile on her face, “What if I add another grand to your ‘making it happen’ fee?”

Tearing out a freshly written check, Kelly handed it to the hotel manager.

“Have a Palm Woods day, everyone. Enjoy your stay.”

What a sleaze she thought as he left the room. Once the door was fully shut, Kelly spoke up once more. “Try not to show him your apartment, Roxy.”

The girl blinked.

“My… apartment?”

The woman nodded and Roxy wasted no time bursting out the door. A million questions filled her mind, and she did her best to push them out as she dug in her bag for her keys. Once she found them, she slid the golden one into the lock and opened the door with a click.

The first thing catching her eye was the brand new paint job. Instead of her old, beige, chipping paint, the walls had been covered with calming shades of red, blue, and brown - it felt very southwestern.

Her kitchen had been pushed into the corner wall, new appliances decorating the small space and she noticed that the breakfast bar had been taken away in favor of a small table tucked in the center. Because the kitchen had been shrunk, her living room had much more space and now accommodated a long red couch and a small entertainment system. She was grateful she didn’t need to figure out how the old dial TV worked.

Across from the living room on the right, her bedroom door was open. While she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of someone being in her room, as long as no one touched the shoeboxes in her closet she was fine.

The bed, which once sat in the center of the room with the head under one of the windows to the pool, had been pushed into the corner left and lofted, making the once cramped room more open. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to a cherry red electric guitar hanging on the wall above a small keyboard and desk. An amp and all the necessary electrical cords for the instruments were tucked in the corner of the room, under all of her pictures of Minnesota. On the side opposite her bed, she noticed a huge, cherrywood vanity and stool with a large mirror that lit up around the edges, giving the perfect lighting to ensure her makeup would ways be flawless. On the clear surface, a small, sleek micro-laptop sat.

Standing in the middle of the room, spinning around a few times to make sure she noticed every little detail, her emotions overwhelmed her as she let out a happy scream and jumped around her new, perfect room.

Though she needed to get back to her friends, she walked over and ran her fingers over the new guitar that had been gifted to her. It was everything she had ever dreamed of and she was ecstatic that she didn’t need to save up and buy one anymore. Hooking it into the amp, she strummed a few chords and was shocked by the clarity of the sound. The electric acoustic she had been using previously was dear to her heart, and a wonderful gift from her father, but she always felt that the sound was mildly muffled when she tried to play it on the electric setting. Lazily, she began to play a small riff of an old Nirvana song that she had heard on one of her tapes earlier in the day; it sounded amazing.

Once she was more than satisfied, she was sure to shut off her equipment and unplug it. The guitar was set back on its stand and she silently promised to take very good care of it.

Exiting her room, she looked over her new entertainment system and something caught her eye.

Has that door always been there?

Along the shared wall of her apartment, to the left of her new TV, a red door had escaped her previous glance over the room. Roxy walked over to it with an eerie feeling in her chest. When she grabbed the door handle, it zapped her with a bit of electricity from the carpet and when she opened it, she found Big Time Rush on the other side.

“Surprise!”

Taking a step back, she examined her surroundings and realized the door led to the hallway of their apartment. The girl must’ve had a puzzled look on her face as Carlos started to explain.

“The other night you said it gets lonely all by yourself! So, we drew a stage door into the plans for the Crib. You can come over any time!”

“I can just walk to your apartment though…?” She was giving a strained smile, still slightly confused.

Logan backed the helmet wearer, “Yes, but now you can come in when no one’s around in case you need a hockey stick to defend yourself or something. Or if you have a song idea to share you can just run a few steps and find us. Or if you get lonely, we can always hang out!”

Roxy turned this thought over in her mind, her strained smile slowly turning into a real one.

“Oh!” Kendall raised his index finger up. “Your side has a lock, so if you don’t want to see us just flip it and we won’t be able to get in.”

“And we promise to knock before entering,” James said, sounding slightly disappointed about it.

“You four are very thoughtful…” She trailed off, still slightly confused but not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I’ll be sure to knock as well.”

Just like if I was at their front door. They’re so dumb.

Her mind flipped back to their conversation. And their new entertainment system that was way bigger than hers. Not that she was complaining; the new instruments were a very fair trade-off.

“Want to celebrate with a movie night?”

BTR lit up. Carlos began to mumble something about popcorn before running into the kitchen, Logan in tow.

Kendall smacked his forehead in remembrance of something, “We didn’t bring any DVD’s!”

“You left the new Fast and Furious at home? I’m going to wring your neck!” James shouted as he landed a punch to his friend’s shoulder. “I’ve been dying to see that!”

Letting them wrestle for a few seconds too long, Roxy smiled to herself knowing full well any of the movies she had were on the bottom of their watchlist. But it was all they had, so the band was going to have to deal. “I’ve got a few! Let me change into my pajamas and I’ll be over with my top 3.”

Kendall looked over at her with pouting eyes. “Why do you get to pick?’

“Because they’re my movies? And I write the songs that’ll make you famous?”

No way was he going to argue with that. “Fair enough. See you soon.”

The door closed and she walked back into her room to retrieve the necessary items. Choosing a cuter pair of pajama bottoms and an old *NSYNC t-shirt she had thrifted back home, she threw it on. It was quite late so she opted to take off her makeup, just in case she fell asleep, and tied her hair up with her new red bandana. Looking at herself in the mirror door in front of the closet, she yawned.

Taking the stool from under her new vanity, she set it in front of the top shelf in her closet and balanced on it, bringing down the shoe box with her movies.

Like her taste in music, her taste in movies was immaculate. The box was filled to the brim with her favorite dramas and romcoms as she dug through them in order to find the ones that would bring her the most joy to force the boys to watch. Her decisions were made carefully as she picked ones she was sure they had never seen before. If their typical movie night was something like Fast and Furious that meant they liked action - her least favorite genre.

This is going to be so much fun.

Three choices in hand, the girl walked over to her new door and knocked before entering.

Her band was already on the couch, snacks galore on the tables in front of them. They were bickering about what the best couch position was and Carlos was in the process of giving Logan a noogie when she made her way in front of them.

“Okay, boys, here are your choices. Number one.”

Roxy held out her copy of Legally Blonde.

“A movie about a hot blonde girl, Elle, who gets into Harvard Law School in order to prove to her ex she’s more than just a pretty face.”

They blinked at her. Time for the next option.

“10 Things I Hate About You. A modern retelling of Shakesphere’s Taming of the Shrew. Kat’s little sister, Bianca, wants to date but isn’t allowed to until Kat has a boyfriend, so Biana sets Kat up with this super ultra-hot bad boy Patrick even though she swears up and down she’ll never date in her life. Lots of twists and turns, very fun.”

She let them soak in all that information while she thought about Patrick Verona. The scene where he sings to Kat while she’s at soccer practice nearly made her swoon just thinking about it; Definitely in her top 5 favorite movie moments ever.

When none of them voted in favor of 10 Things, she held up her third movie. Twilight, the ace in the hole. Not only did the movie contain a thrilling supernatural romance but it had action in it, something the boys would latch onto because the previous movies had none of that.

“One of the best movies made in my life based off of one of the best books written in my life, Twilight. Bella Swan finds herself locked in the middle of a centuries-old war between the vampires and werewolves of Forks, Washington. Lots of fighting, lots of blood, and lots of pretty actresses.”

Trying to recapture the boys’ attention as they processed all the information needed to make a decision, she wiggled the movie in her hands.

“Promise this one has action in it?” Carlos beamed.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” She replied.

“Let’s watch that one then!”

Turning around, she looked for the DVD player while hiding the grin spreading across her face.

Before she placed it in the player, a thought popped into her head, causing her to turn back around and point towards Carlos, then the kitchen, “Can you help me grab something off the top shelf really quick?”

Not even giving a verbal response, he hopped up and raced to the kitchen to assist his assistant. Meanwhile, the other three were too preoccupied with reading the back of the DVD to find the real synopsis of the movie. Apparently they thought Roxy was an unreliable summarizer.

Joining her friend in the kitchen, Carlos eagerly looked up at the shelves, “What do you need?”

“Uh, nothing, sorry,” She replied, and when a look of confusion crossed his face, she wrung her hands together nervously. “I actually wanted to thank you for what you said the other day, when you were checking up on me after those guys grabbed me at the pool. That was really thoughtful, and it meant a lot to me. So… thanks!”

Before she even finished speaking, his eyes lit up and a big grin splashed across his face as he took in her words. “Of course, Roxy! You’re always looking out for me, so I’ll always be looking out for you too. That goes for all of us.”

As they turned back to see their friends, it appeared as though they were trying to figure out what other movies the lead actors had been in.

A “thank you” didn’t feel like enough.

“Did you know I have three big sisters?” He asked her, turning towards the cabinets and reaching up to grab a large popcorn bowl before pushing it into her hands. It seemed he had decided she needed something after all.

Shaking her head, the assistant listened as he continued, “You wouldn’t believe how in tune I am with the emotions of teenage girls; I’ve had triple the practice! Now, come on! Movie time!”

Gently grabbing her wrist, he pulled her back over to the couch.

They’re so going to hate this.

The previews on the disc began to play so Roxy quickly chose her spot on the couch. Apparently, the band had decided that the best seat on the couch was in the lower part of the L-shape it made, directly facing the TV so she picked a seat on the longer part landing her right next to James.

Surround sound audio enveloped them, bringing great joy to the girl. It felt like they were at the movie theater; the band was even diligently watching the trailers without talking. To say that Roxy had seen this movie a thousand times would be an understatement, so she had already seen all the clips before the movie and without commentary from the guys, she felt her eyelids getting heavy. Leaning back onto one of the pillows, she finally allowed herself some rest after their hectic few days, and boy did it feel good.

Happy Big Time Rush Day!! <3

#big time rush #btr #james diamond #james maslow #kendall knight #kendall schmidt #logan mitchell #logan henderson #carlos garcia #carlos penavega #thats all she wrote fic

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frankiekatt · 3 years

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If it's not too much to ask, maybe you could write some soft moments between Bo Sinclair (house of wax) and his significant other?

Anon, of course! Of course my horse! This is the first request that I've ever written for, and I tried my absolute best! I really hope you like it!

TW: Implied death, blood, implied NSFW

Soft Moments Between Bo Sinclair And His S/O

Many people like to headcannon Bo as being a cold asshole (which he IS), but in my opinion, there is so much more to him. I headcannon Bo as being gruff, but also an unapologetic simp for his S/O!

Being with Bo means knowing everything about him, Ambrose, his brother Vincent, and The House of wax, and sticking by his side. Remaining loyal to him, no matter what.

This means that you’re around when Bo and Vincent lure their victims into Ambrose to add them to the wax figure collection. However, Bo has made it very clear that you are not to be around any of the violence whatsoever. Your job is to stay home and “sit pretty.”

On the days where Bo has to chase down new victims, he often earns a few wounds here and there, some serious, some not. When Bo staggers home, having just handed off the latest victim to Vincent, he prefers to clean his blood and patch up his wounds himself. After all the violence and blood and pain Bo endures on these days, any comforting or help you try to provide him just irritates and overwhelms him. If you sit next to him on the living room couch once he’s done cleaning himself up though, and run your fingers through his hair to relax him, he will absolutely melt in your arms.

Bo’s favorite thing in the world is your hands. He just thinks they’re so soft and dainty and small compared to his. Getting any kind of attention from your hands makes him feel like he could die happy.

His favorite place to have your hands is in his hair and on his chest. After long days of dealing with new people in Ambrose, Bo loves to lay his head in your lap while you sift your fingers through his dark locks and talk to him about anything and everything. Late at night, when neither you nor Bo could seem to fall asleep, you would lay next to him in bed, telling him stories of your childhood, and stroking his chest. On very, very rare nights, Bo can feel you trace the old scars that are imbedded on his chest and his wrists, whispering to Bo that you think he is so, so handsome, that he’s so special and he’s yours and you love him. During these rare nights, Bo holds you impossibly close to him, feeling like the luckiest bastard in the world for being able to be with someone like you.

On the days where there weren’t any strangers in Ambrose to deal with, Bo could usually be found down in his shop, working on old, rundown vehicles Lester had found on the side of the road or fiddling with his trusty truck. On these days, you could usually be found down in Bo’s shop to keep him company.

The two of you could spend hours upon hours together in that garage, flirting and conversing about anything that came to either of your minds.

Bo would be stealing glances at you every now and then while he repairs fan belts and spark plugs, hoping that the wind would blow your dress just a tad bit higher than it already was. He would find himself smiling a bit every time your giggles filled the room.

You would be sitting on a stool nearby, admiring Bo’s toned back as he worked, finding the tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead incredibly enticing, losing yourself completely in Bo’s charming southern lilt anytime he threw a flirty comment your way.

Contrary to popular belief, Bo is actually a decent cook – he just hates to do it.

So, when you come around, wielding a silver spatula proudly, Bo is more than grateful.

On night’s when Bo is home to see you cook dinner, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

Watching you go about the kitchen, humming quietly to yourself, tending to meat sizzling or stew bubbling atop the stove makes his heart skip a couple beats. The scene before him is just so dazzling and domestic compared to every other aspect in his life. The only thing he missed about his mother was home cooked meals

After dinner is finished cooking, you and Bo sit together at the dining room table, chatting about each other’s day, poking fun at each, flirting, laughing, enjoying each other’s presence to the fullest.

The first time Bo told you he loved you was in no way a picturesque, Hollywood movie type moment, but for the two of you, it was the most memorable moment of your lives’.

It had been pretty late on that night, even Vincent had stalked up to his room to turn in for the night.

You and Bo, however, were serious night owls, often finding yourselves roaming about the house late at night together, watching tv, playing pool, or making love on any surface in Bo’s sight.

This night, you found yourself listening to the kitchen radio on a low volume while you and Bo lounged on the couch, seldom commenting on whatever the radio host was talking about.

After the host was done with his segment, the music resumed, playing an old, soft love song that you recognized.

You shot up from the couch and raced toward the kitchen. “Bo,” you said turning to him with a look of joy that twisted his insides. “I love this song! My Mama used to sing this to me every night when I was younger. Come dance with me!”

Bo wasn’t one to waltz around the house with his s/o to love songs, but the way you were looking at him with excitement and adoration in your eyes, how could he refuse? “Sure, darlin’.”

And that was how the two of you found yourselves gently swaying in the kitchen to a gentle lull that filled the small kitchen.

You head was rested against Bo’s shoulder and your arms were tangled around his neck, which meant you were flushed against his chest. Your scent was filling Bo’s nose and your love was filling his chest until he felt like he was about to burst.

Bo knew he loved you a long time before he had actually told you. Even though you had showed him time and time again that you were loyal to him and you would stick by him through thick and thin, he still had doubts in the back of his mind. He had led such a brutal and rugged life that he felt like someone as sweet and pure as you didn’t belong in his life. That one day you would up and leave and he would be left with nothing but a broken heart.

But something about this particular moment, something about how small you looked compared to him, something about this song and the pretty little night gown you were wearing and something about the way his heart was beating out of his chest made him whisper those three little words.

“I love you,” he whispered while his lips were pressed against your ear.

Bo allowed the fear of losing you to consume his body for just a split second before you lifted your head and gazed at him with a honied smile and eyes filled to the brim with love and infatuation before you rose on your tippy toes to kiss him sweetly.

“I love you too. So much.”

#asks #requests #slashers #slasher x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader

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starkeristheendgame · 3 years

Text

Inspired by 9-1-1 (on Fox), which is my current obsession. I highly recommend checking it out and it’s spin-off series 9-1-1: Lonestar. If you already like 9-1-1 and Buddie (Buck and Eddie) then you should check out my new main account @therogueheart. Liberty has been taken with protocols and practices here, but the land of fiction knows no rules.

Firefighter!Tony x Civilian!Peter.

TW: Age difference | Under-negotiated sexual content | Unrealistic practises

“NYFD! We’re evacuating the block!”

“NYFD, are any residents present?”

Peter jerked awake to loud yelling and incessant pounding on his door, flailing blearily in bed for a moment before he fell off the side of in a heap of limbs and bedding, scrambling to get upright.

He shrugged on a hoodie and tripped into a pair of combat boots, stumbling his way sleepily to the door. He was operating on barely five hours of sleep and felt every hour he was sorely missing - though his midterms were a good enough reason to burn the midnight oil.

He wrenched the door open just as a firefighter on the other side went to swing the breach ram into it, letting out a squeak of panic as it stopped mere inches from his belly. The man wielding it was huge; with short blond hair and shoulders that could fit a person comfortably on either side.

“That was close, I could’ve ruptured your entire torsal cavity and killed you!” the firefighter boomed cheerfully, straightening up with a broad, dazzling smile. Peter let out a faint noise and did his best not to pass out, sagging against the doorframe and gripping it.

He was wide fucking awake now, that was for sure.

“My name is Thor, I’m with the NYPD, Manhattan division. We’re evacuating the block, there’s been a gas leak on the lower and mid levels and there’s risk of combustion,” the man ordered, slinging the ram over his shoulder and gesturing to the hallway. Peter could hear other voices, all similar conversations amidst the yells of NYPD, open up!

“Uh,” was all Peter got out before he was being ushered out of his doorway. Firefighter Thor nudged him several steps forwards before Peter’s brain finally came online and he jerked to a stop.

“Wait! I need my Adderall and my phone! If I don’t call Aunt May she’s gonna kill me and if I don’t take my meds I’m gonna be screwed!”

Thor looked undecided, brows pinching. “You shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay, Thor. Move onto the North quadrant; I’ll stay with this one,” came a voice from behind them and Peter turned, shrinking in on himself a little.

Illuminated in the crappy hallway lighting was a man who looked like he’d stepped straight off a movie billboard. He wasn’t as tall or the same brand of clean-cut Hollywood handsome that Thor was, but he was just as attractive. More so, if Peter was going to acknowledge his tendency to lust after men twice or even thrice his age.

The man had black hair swept into a neat side-leaning quiff, a hint of salt and pepper at his temples. His facial hair had been styled in a way that ought to look ridiculous but only served to give him a unique, sharp look, accentuating the shape of his jaw.

The man winked at him and Peter realised he’d been staring. When he glanced to the side Thor had already moved off out of sight and the firefighter left behind gestured to Peter’s door, which was thankfully still open ajar from where he’d been rushed out.

“Uh, thanks. Thank you...Sir? Officer?” he cringed at his own awkwardness, shuffling past. The man looked amused, quirking a brow and pursing his lips a little, even as something indescribable flashed in his eyes.

“Sir works just fine, if that’s your thing. But for the record - I’m Captain Stark. Pretty boys get to call me Tony, though,” the man winked again, teasing seeping into his voice as Peter flushed and beelined for his bed, grabbing his phone from it’s charger and scooping up his bill box and keys.

He lamented not being able to grab anything else, but he knew better than to put himself (and someone else) at risk by lingering. Tony ushered him out of the door with a hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the stairwell. Peter could hear noises and voices on the lower levels but realised with surprise that they were the only two left on the topmost floor.

“You were dead to the world, kid. Thor was banging on your door like crazy. We almost gave you up for not in,” Tony voiced, seemingly understanding his realisation. Peter flushed again and mumbled something about studying, hurrying down the stairs as quickly as he could, Tony a close and solid presence at his back.

It wasn’t until the cool, outside air hit his legs that he realised he was still only wearing a thin hoodie and the shorts he’d gone to sleep in. He shivered in dismay, wrapping his arms around himself. He wasn’t the only one who’d clearly been dragged out of bed - there were people milling around in robes and pyjama sets.

One poor man was even shivering in a ratty blanket, suds dripping from his hair and into his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, doing his best to stop his teeth from chattering.

“Residents on the lower levels reported strong smells of sulphur and gas. We think it’s a line rupture or faulty heater somewhere. Full evac is protocol until we know for sure and can get started on a fix,” the fire Captain answered, steering him a little away from the main crowd and to one of the trucks.

“Take a seat, kid,” Tony offered, gesturing to the step-up of the truck. Peter did, flinching as his bare skin met the icy metal. The man left him there, turning away to resume his role as he barked orders and disappeared off into the fray. Peter busied himself with his phone, only looking up when Tony’s voice boomed out over the crowd sometime later.

“Alright, everybody listen up!” the man yelled, clapping his hands. “We’ve located the source of the gas and the good news is that it’s a relatively easy fix. The bad news is that it’ll take a minimum of four hours. In the name of safety, none of you can return to the building until it’s deemed safe to do so. Your landlord and building technicians will get in contact as soon as they’ve been given the okay for you to return home. In the meantime, I suggest you go visit friends, family, or find a nice coffee shop while you wait!”

An immediate chorus of groans, complaints and angry remarks bubbled up, the firefighters all doing their best to marshal the situation and contain the displeasure. Peter shuffled where he sat, chewing his lower lip in frustration.

Aunt May was half a city away and on shift; Ned was visiting his Grandma and MJ’s girlfriend had stayed the night, meaning if Peter valued his eyes he couldn’t show up at her door.

Which meant he was probably going to spend the next four hours shivering at a Starbucks and studying on his phone.

Great.

“You good, kid?” the voice was joined by a pair of turnout clad legs and Peter looked up, tossing his phone between his hands. Out in the natural light Captain Stark was even more handsome, a strange mix between rugged and polished.

“Um, yeah. Just...Trying to decide which coffee shop I’m gonna move into,” he sighed, offering a weak smile. The Captain looked thoughtful.

“Little thing like you, Mom and Dad weren’t just out getting milk?” his tone was teasing but curious. Peter shook his head.

“Uh, no. I don’t...I did live with my Aunt. But I graduated highschool early and got a scholarship for the Manhattan Institute of Advanced Sciences. That shitty little studio is all mine,” he rattled the keys in his pocket and shifted. His butt had warmed the step some, but it still wasn’t exactly comfortable.

As if sensing his discomfort the man shifted, peeling himself out of the huge, heavy turnout jacket. “Here, sit up a little,” the man coaxed, crouching down. Peter found himself enveloped in the jacket as Captain Stark wrapped it around him and tucked it under his ass and thighs, pulling it shut so it cocooned him in the heat.

It smelt of soap and aftershave and maybe a little bit of sweat, and Peter found himself relaxing immediately, giving a hum of pleased satisfaction.

Tony was smiling at him when he opened his eyes again and he flushed, saved from embarrassment by a tall, lithe man approaching.

“Cap, we got ‘em all squared. Company is on the way for the fix. The one-five-nine offered to stay and play babysitter. We’re clear to move out.” The man had a purple band-aid on his right brow and did a double-take when he looked down at Peter. “We get a new recruit, Cap?”

Captain Stark looked thoughtfully between Peter and the man, fingers curling around his waistband.

“Alright. Barton, round up the others, call to move out. Have the one-five-nine use radio line six if they need us. We’re bringing back a station puppy.”

‘Barton’ glanced at Peter again, eyes raking over him before he did something between a smile and a smirk. “Copy that,” he confirmed, spinning on his heel and jogging off.

“Huh?” was all Peter could think to say.

“You’ve got nowhere better to go and you’ll freeze without getting changed. I’ve got some spare clothes at the station and you can hole up on the couch until we get the go-ahead to send you home. Rogers can cook, so let’s see if we can’t put a good breakfast in that belly,” Tony responded, nudging him up and out of the way so he could open the truck door.

And that was how Peter found himself wedged into the truck with Clint Barton, Thor Odinson and Steve Rogers. They crammed a spare headset on him and grilled him on student life as they drove, Captain Stark chiming in from the front of the truck.

The station they pulled into was huge, newly renovated and vast. Firefighter Thor set two hands on his hips, lifting him out of the truck easily and setting him down on the floor, ruffling his hair before dogpiling onto Steve, both of them stumbling and grappling away, arguing in snippets about door breaches.

A little dazed, he startled when a hand fell to his back again and turned, flushing when Captain Stark smirked at him and nudged him towards the locker room. The others were already there, stripping out of their turnouts and talking animatedly.

Peter was divested of the jacket but was given a thicker, warmer hoodie emblazoned with ‘NYPD’ and ‘Stark’, the older man rooting around in a locker for a moment before producing a pair of sweats.

They were baggy but he double-tied them and rolled up the ankles and found them more than comfortable, shyly thanking the man. Tony was watching him, eyes dark again with that hidden thought, before he seemingly shook himself out of it and herded Peter towards a set of steps.

Upstairs was a kitchen space and a small common area with two couches and a TV. Barton immediately handed him a steaming mug of herbal tea and Captain Stark ushered him to the table and after several minutes of sitting in their midst and listening to firefighting stories, Steve placed a plate of toast, beans, bacon and eggs under his nose.

“Eat it before Barton mauls you for it,” Steve advised with a grin, sinking into the seat opposite him and stretching out, one arm slung around the back of Thor’s chair. Peter took the warning and dug in, shamelessly moaning at the taste. The eggs had been seasoned and there was something in the butter on the toast that made it rich and almost a little salty.

“Better than sex, huh kid?” Tony teased from his side and Clint gasped, throwing his hands over Peter’s ears.

“He doesn’t know what that is yet!”

After breakfast he was bundled onto the couch, handed a mug of tea to keep his hands warm and the remote to the TV as the others stomped down the staircase, citing organising their gear.

The alarm blared out as he was watching a nature documentary and he leaned over the balcony rail just in time to watch them leaping into the truck, flushing as the Captain shot him a wink before shutting the truck door, it’s sirens wailing and lights flashing as it pulled out of the bay.

They weren’t gone that long, but when the truck pulled back into the bay it was covered in dust and dirt.

He padded down the staircase, pulling on the sleeves of his hoodie as he watched them all descend from the vehicle. They looked a little dusty and grimy, but otherwise unharmed.

“Winch rescue up on the hiking trails,” Clint informed him as he jogged past, beelining for a room just past the lockers. “I’ve got dust in places it doesn't belong!”

The worst of them all was Steve, who’d apparently tripped over the winch line and gone tumbling down the hillside. He was largely unhurt, but he was also the last one out of the showers thanks to needing some extra scrubbing.

“C’mon, kid. Time to earn your keep,” Tony teased once they were clean and dressed in LAFD shorts and shirts. They were filling buckets and bringing out plastic boxes full of soaps and polish, and he almost whimpered when he realised they were going to clean the truck.

He was practically living a piece of fanfiction.

Or torture. Either one was applicable.

It took exactly ten minutes for someone to lose their shirt. Peter didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that it was Steve, who flexed his pecs with a wink when he caught Peter staring. As if not to be outdone, Thor immediately tugged his shirt over his head, baring an even bigger, beefier torso that fed the red flames burning up Peter’s cheeks.

“Alright, show offs. Stop preening and get cleaning,” Tony barked at them good-naturedly, rolling his eyes as he handed Peter a sponge and flicked suds at the two taller blonds, who pulled faces but dove into the work with vigor.

In an attempt to cool down his embarrassment he turned his attention to the truck, scrubbing gently in broad circles to match what the others were doing. He’d never realised just how big firetrucks were and he wondered idly how often they had to do this.

“Hey, shortstack, you wanna be on top?”

“Excuse me?” Peter squeaked, rounding on Captain Stark, who smirked at him and gestured to the roof of the truck and the little side ladder.

“On the roof. Tends to get gritty up there,” the man drawled, eyeing him in thinly veiled amusement. It had to be on purpose, Peter realised. Especially when he moved to the side ladder and a set of rough hands wrapped around his hips, boosting him up several rungs.

He settled down to scrub, listening to the soundtrack of the station and the men below, peering over the edge now and then to watch them or to join in the conversation. It was dizzying - having them all grinning up at him, sunny and sparkling and half-naked.

Mercifully, there wasn’t too much more teasing as they scrubbed and buffed and wiped. He wasn’t sure his cheeks could take getting any hotter - but then, where safer to combust but in the middle of a firehouse?

Captain Stark helped him down from the roof again with the same hold around his hips, thumbs rubbing brief circles along the ridges of the bones before the man stepped aside with a quirked smile.

“Hungry, kid?”

“If I don’t get fed soon I might start chewing off my own foot,” he harrumphed with a grin, ducking his head when Clint barked a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Kid after my own stomach,” the man drawled, taking the steps three at a time in a way that Peter and his short legs watched enviously.

Lunch was buffet bits like potato chips and little sponge-cake fingers and fruit, which Peter didn’t mind at all. He threw grapes into Clint’s mouth and arm-wrestled Steve and deliberately paid no attention at all to where Captain Stark’s leg pressed against his own under the table.

In the grand five hour total that he was there they got called out twice more, once for a tree rescue (a man who’d tried to save money by cutting his own yard tree, not a cat, much to Peter’s disappointment) and a small kitchen fire that left them bitching for a full hour afterwards about how people needed to stop trying to be Gordon Ramsey when they could barely cook packet ramen.

And then, just when the others were beginning to get shift about nearing their time to come off rotation, Peter’s phone rang.

It was his landlord, sounding gruff and disinterested as he informed Peter the apartment had been deemed safe to re-enter, although all aparts were going to be required to keep their gas appliances off for the night and their windows open.

The others had stopped milling around in the locker room and listened in with thinly concealed interest, offering nods and smiles when it was revealed Peter was safe to hit home.

“Just on time, huh?” Steve beamed at him, ruffling his hair.

“Aw, man. Do we have to give him back?” Clint whined in protest, swooping down to wrap himself around Peter like a clingy mink shrug. Peter giggled, tucking himself into the hold and putting on a pretend pout.

Truthfully; he didn’t want to leave. At first he’d been apprehensive about being stuck in a building with a bunch of strange men, but over the course of the day he’d come to cherish their family dynamic and the easy, comfortable companionship.

“You knew he was on loan, you layabouts,” Tony chastised them fondly, rolling his eyes. When his crew had been bullied into resuming their prep to leave, Captain Stark sank onto the bench next to Peter.

“You want a ride back, kid? I live past that area anyway and it’s my fault you’re so far out from home,” he noted with a warm smile, tugging on a boot and stooping to lace it.

Peter bit at his lower lip. Technically; he should say no. He didn’t actually know this man, and being a firefighter meant nothing for how trustworthy he was.

But…

“You don’t mind?” he asked lightly.

“It would be Captain’s honor,” Thor assured him with a wink. And that was that, the others finished dressed and they moved out to the parking lot as a herd, Peter trailing awkwardly along behind Tony towards a sleek, red and gold Audi.

He was hugged and ruffled and treated to a sizable farewell from the others, each of them pointedly telling him not to be a stranger as they piled into their vehicles and drove off in a cloud of muted music and squealing tyres.

When he turned around Tony had slipped over to the car and stood with the passenger door open, stooped into a half bow.

The interior was crisp and clean and smelt like fresh linen when he sank into the seat, tucking his legs in carefully. Tony slid into the driver’s side like he lived to be behind the wheel of a flashy car, slipping on a dark pair of shades and letting his window slide down.

Tony switched radio on to a smooth rock station and Peter let himself relax in the seat, phone still clutched carefully in hand just in case, but thoroughly enjoying the rumble of the car and the way Tony looked behind the wheel.

They didn’t speak much on the way but Peter snuck several glances at the other man, shivering through a bolt of unsteady heat each time Tony caught the motion and tipped his head, smirking at him from behind those shaded lenses.

The apartment building loomed up on them far too soon, signalling the end of a day Peter was confident he’d keep in his memories right up until his last breath.

(And if it tempted him to maybe one day set fire to his kitchen a little bit, well.)

Tony pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot, leaning casually back in his seat.

“Maybe you should, um, check my apartment?”

It took Peter a moment to realise he was the one who’d spoken, mortified as Tony pushed down his shades to peer at him over the rims with an arched brow.

“To, uh, um…” Peter squirmed on his seat, doing his best not to think about how it was the other man’s clothes he was wearing. “Make sure it’s safe. I mean, I’ve built up a little trust. With you. Who knows if the other guys missed something?”

And what he wouldn’t give for a sinkhole to just swallow him up right then.

But to his surprise Captain Stark just peered at him for another moment, then smiled. “Sure thing, kid. The other’s’d never forgive me anyway if I let you die off in the night.”

With cheeks hot enough to sear a steak, Peter slipped out of the car and practically ran for the building, hyper aware of Tony’s presence beside him as they ascended the steps. God, he was so fucking stupid. Tony was probably going to poke around the apartment a little, open the window then skip on back home and tell his wife all about the strange kid he’d had to babysit all day.

His hands were shaking as he unlocked his door but if the man noticed he said nothing, stepping in behind him and pushing the door gently shut. Peter toed off his boots by the door and turned, watching the man roam the apartment, sniffing here and there and opening the window in the kitchenette.

“Hey, come here,” Tony’s voice called when he was plugging his phone in. Jamming the cord into the device, he bounced out of the room and slid to a halt next to Tony, who held a hand out to steady him. “Do you feel that?”

“What?” Peter asked in confusion, head tilting.

“Sexual tension,” Tony grinned at him, winking terribly.

“Wha-- Oh,” Peter rocked back on his heels, cheeks blazing.

“You’re not subtle, kid. I got ribbed the whole day out over it,” Tony teased him, reaching out to ever so gently tuck one of Peter’s mahogany curls behind his ear.

“Sorry?” Peter tried, fingers curling around the cuffs of his - Tony’s - hoodie.

“I know a way you can make it up to me,” the only man purred, leaning in a little closer. And then all at once he softened, head tilting a little. “Only, of course, if you want to.”

“Aren’t you… Married?” Peter asked hesitantly, even as his heart kicked up a notch and heat gave a lazy spark between his lips. Tony’s brows shot towards his hairline.

“Not since I last checked, no,” Tony answered, sounding terribly amused. “Where did you get that thought?”

And oh, no. The last thing Peter was going to do was tell Tony he thought the man was so attractive it was feasibly impossible for him to not be taken. His ego would get so big he’d float off to space and then where would Peter be?

Instead of answering he shifted, bracing his hands on Tony’s chest and rising onto his tiptoes so he could press a chaste kiss to Tony’s mouth, the man’s stubble tickling the corner of his mouth before he pulled away, shrinking in on himself and rubbing at his lower lip.

Tony blinked down at him for a moment. Then he shifted, leaning down to wrap his hands around Peter’s thigh and hip, lifting him up with a flex of work-honed muscles. Peter clutched at his shoulders, legs automatically wrapping around Tony’s waist.

It was a new kind of novelty; to feel thick, corded muscle beneath his palms, to feel the cut of it between his thighs, to feel the scrape of stubble over his jaw and his mouth. All of Peter’s other partners had been close to his own age and relatively close in terms of build and body.

A few strides had Peter’s back pressed against the wall where he let his head fall back with a thump, mouth falling open on a whine.

“Look at you having your five minutes of bravery,” Tony teased him, shifting one leg so his thigh helped to hold Peter’s weight, fingers flexing against his skin. “What happened to the quiet little kid who burnt up anytime he looked my way?”

Peter had nothing to say, shivering through a hiccupped sound when something thick and hard rode the crease of his thigh and hip, hot between the layers of fabric that separated them. Instead of answering he pawed at the man’s shirt, desperately wanting to see the carved flesh beneath it.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want,” Tony soothed him, adjusting them both before he helped to tug on the fabric, muscles shifting and bunching as he worked it over his head and threw it off somewhere to the side.

“Oh,” Peter choked, setting his palms down on the plane of Tony’s stomach. He was beautiful; tanned skin marred with a smattering of scars that stood out pink and pale. He knew better than to focus on them but he couldn’t help running his thumb over a half-moon scar at the bottom of Tony’s pectoral.

“Emergency field incision,” Tony murmured, nipple peaking at the close touch. “Had to mesh-wall my heart.”

Peter had no words for that, either. In all the fun of the firehouse he’d almost forgotten the reality of such a dangerous job. He ran his thumb gently over it again, as if to kiss it, and tightened his legs to bring Tony into him again.

It made them press together in a delicious, warm friction, Tony’s pupils dilating further when Peter tried to stifle the noise the touch prompted. He was squeezed back into the wall as Tony leaned down, catching his mouth in a slick, gentle kiss.

“Hey, kid,” Tony murmured against his mouth, leaning back just enough to speak, teeth scraping over his swollen lower lip.

“Hm?” Peter whimpered, trying to tilt his head to reach him again.

“You wanna see why they call me Captain Firehose?”

Peter’s lashes fluttered as he looked up, mouth dropping open for a moment of pure, unadulterated suspense.

“That was awful,” he groaned with a giggle, tickled by the cheesy line and rendered pink-cheeked by the soft, fond look at Tony fixed him with.

“Made you smile, though,” Tony purred, adjusting his hold as he ducked down to press a kiss to Peter’s cheek, lips trailing over the warm skin before he pulled back and away, muscles flexing as he held Peter up without the support of the wall.

Blushing harder, Peter wound his arms around the man’s neck. “Okay, Captain. Show me how to handle your hose,” he whispered, yelping and laughing when Tony spun them around towards the bedroom with a grin.

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

Ashes Chapter 1: Night

Liu Kang x Reader

This story contains spoilers from the Mortal Kombat 2021 movie so description and story will be beneath the cut. It's an angsty good time. Thanks @justariellove for workshopping titles with me!! Edit:: Changing the title. Beauty Through Ash will be the name of the series that this will be a part of.

Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

You are a warrior with the dragon marking and ink arcana. You had visions as a child. Complicated sexual history with Liu Kang and a romantic relationship with Kung Lao that lasted a few years after that had ended. Story takes place post-movie! It will be angsty. There will be yelling. There will be tension and smut (eventually, that's just me). It will be ridiculous. But fun.

This is a 'I have zero self control post' Enjoy!

A soft ringing rattled through your head and you hated every second of it. It was a tinkling sound, like metal brushing softly against metal.

A wind chime.

The most annoying wind chime that you had ever heard in your life. Your stomach was sour, like you’d eaten something funny the night before and as you turned in search of the cold side of the pillow, your stomach rejected being awake. The world spun even with your eyes closed.

What had you done to deserve this?

You tried to recall what had brought you to this point of misery. You remembered going downstairs in search of a stiff drink after you’d packed for your trip the next day but after that, things had gotten blurry. It was easy to get lost in liquor these days. You remembered some of the other monks coming to join you but after that, there was nothing. That was why your stomach was sick. Too much liquor. Not an entirely unfamiliar feeling the past few weeks. You’d often needed its help to fall asleep.

You leaned up on your elbow and felt something soft slip over your bare skin. Puzzling. No usual nightshirt, but something else draped over you instead. Oh, no.

Oh no.

You were naked.

You were very, very naked. Crap. You grasped the soft cloth and held it over you to keep decent. Shit. You were sore too. So much for wishful thinking that you hadn’t done something incredibly stupid.

You bit the bullet and opened your eyes but silently panicked at the shirt that was just barely draped over you and knew whose it was before you saw the body of the man lying next to you. A soot-stained shirt. Biting your lip, you prayed that you would turn your head and find an insane explanation for your clothing being gone besides the obvious.

Instead, you found the truth that you had already damn well known the moment you’d moved. Liu Kang laid passed out on the bed next to you, face turned away and completely naked. He had scratch marks down his back, and you followed them down to his perfect little butt and then covered your face and mentally cursed yourself.

Fuck.

Don’t panic. Deep breaths.

It was still dark out. You had time to find your clothes and get out of there before he woke, with any luck. His room was dark and you were dizzy so the odds weren’t in your favor. Head in your hands, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and felt the cold stone beneath your feet. God, you were so sore. What stupid things had you done? At least you were familiar with his room and the way back from it. Not your first walk of shame out of there, you reflected in disgust with yourself. Not that Liu Kang wasn’t attractive or fun as hell, it was just terrible timing.

You rested his shirt on the bed next to you and searched the floor blindly for your clothing. His room hadn’t changed much over the years. It had been that long since you’d found yourself drunk and naked in his bed.

You had been drunk. Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

You had clawed the shit out of his back though, he’d probably remember something about that.

You had to get up and go about your day and forget all about it.

Seeing as you didn’t remember most of it, it would probably be fine. You were leaving that morning anyway to go and locate a man in America with the dragon mark. You’d be gone soon and able to delay the inevitable fallout that would come with sleeping with Liu Kang for the first time in years. You found your clothes strewn about the room, slipped them back on as quietly as your hungover self would allow and then snuck out of his room. You thought about covering him up but that risked waking him.

Once in the hall and a few doors away, you leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief.

Okay.

You’d made it out of there. Now to make it look less like you’d done exactly what you’d done. Your mouth tasted foul and your head split with every step. This was a complete disaster. You hadn’t been careful. You hadn’t been thinking. You’d just passed out. You stopped to get cleaned up and grab a cup of tea to try and kill the headache. Then you returned to your room to finish packing your morning things and find a change of clothing. The monotony of the task made your brain buzz with guilt and unpleasant thoughts and then flashes of Liu Kang in the heat of the moment. You smacked the side of your head to try and shake it out of there.

On your desk there was the last and most important thing that you had to bring with you. An ornamental jade circlet. Kung Lao’s jade circlet. You sat at the desk and brushed your fingers over the beautiful thing. It had become one of your most precious possessions. As it often did, the thought of Kung Lao shifted your mood. Then again, it was rare when you weren’t thinking about him. Lifting the circlet, you placed it to your lips and gave it a soft kiss. “I’m sorry, Lao.”

It had been two months since he died.

You hadn’t been there in his last moments. Instead, you’d been halfway around the world running an errand for Raiden and had come back to find him gone. There had been no goodbyes. No last ‘I love you’. Your last conversation hadn’t even been a good one. Then, while drinking away the pain of his memory and guilt of his death, you’d slept with his best friend and brother.

Liu Kang.

You had never felt more guilty in all your life.

There had always been fire between you, but it had long since been put aside when you’d started dating Kung Lao. You’d stomped it out. Now Kung Lao was gone, and you were broken.

If anyone had suffered more than you after Kung Lao’s death it had been Liu Kang. You hadn’t talked about his death other than vague niceties. He had avoided you and you had avoided him. When you’d been together, you’d snapped at each other. The grieving process had been difficult for you both. It had been like he’d taken on some of Kung Lao’s most frustrating traits to deal with the loss of him.

There was no time to dwell on what wasn’t. You had things to do.

You looped the circlet into the straps of your bag and then took it with you. It was what it was. You couldn’t change the past and that was something you were struggling to come to terms with. This was one more thing to add to the pile of stress on your back.

You were off to South Dakota in the United States, a relatively boring place from what you’d heard. You were to search for a man with the dragon marking known as Nightwolf, a legendary warrior of the Makota people. Lord Raiden had asked you to prepare for a journey and you were grateful to have something to do other than stew in the room you’d shared with Kung Lao before his death. There was no peace for you there, but you weren’t sure there was peace for you anywhere right now.

Peace would come with time, you were told again and again. You were tired of hearing it. The comfort of time in conversation was mostly just to shut down the fixation on grief in the company of others. You shook it off.

After you’d found Nightwolf you would be off to meet up with Sonya, Jax, and Cole in Hollywood to try and convince an arrogant movie star, Johnny Cage, to come to Raiden’s Temple to train. No one knew what Outworld would do after having lost the tournament and you had to be prepared. Besides that, you thought Raiden sending you on a mission was his way of trying to help you grieve. He was fatherly at times.

You threw the bag on your back and then walked through the temple to meet Raiden. Your conversation was minimal and you were grateful for that. Your head was still killing you, stomach beyond sick. You stepped through the lightning and arrived outside of a forest, near a reservation where some of the Makota people still lived. You had been told to check there to see if you could find information about the man with the dragon mark.

There were motels nearby, so you walked there and rented a room. It was a little hole in the wall place with a broken No Vacancy sign just off the side of the highway, the kind you associated with horror movies. It had seen better days, but you weren’t picky at the moment, and you weren’t afraid either. You were a woman who was not to be trifled with. You dropped off your bag in the room and then sat on the edge of the bed with the ugly green comforter for a time. The wallpaper was faded and busy, once white ceiling yellowed with age. The most modern thing in the room was the television and even that was a decade old at least. It was fine. You only needed a place to sleep and this room served that purpose. There was a couch against one wall and a table in front of it- more than most hotels offered these days.

Your head was still splitting, but you had gotten some aspirin from the small convenience store attached to the ancient lobby where you’d checked in. Hopefully, that would help. You would take a car to the reservation and then hopefully be allowed to respectfully ask some questions. From what you’d read, very few people still lived there but it had been the only place you’d been able to locate before you’d traveled.

You were hoping that some of the people there would at least point you in the right direction. Raiden had told you that the title of Nightwolf was given to a great warrior who could commune with the Gods. In this case, it was also a man who bore the dragon marking. You called a car from the phone in your room and waited outside for it to meet you. When it did, you opened the door and climbed in the back and made casual conversation with the driver.

You pulled the door closed, but then someone smacked on the door and opened it again. In crawled Liu Kang and any recovery your head and stomach had made were set so far back that you could have vomited your insides onto your boots. “What are you doing here?” That sounded far more accusatory than you had meant it too.

“Raiden sent me to accompany you.” He avoided eye contact and turned his attention to the driver. He looked just as tired as you felt and addressed the driver. “Sorry about that. Is the fare still the same for us both?”

“You going to the same place?”

“Yes, just together.”

“Then same fare, buddy.” The driver put the car in gear and pulled onto the road. You couldn’t have felt worse. Thanks Raiden. Your distraction was officially over. Maybe he hadn’t sent you to find comfort. Maybe he’d sent you to test your spirit. Great.

Next Chapter >>

#liu kang x reader #self insert #reader insert #liu kang #mk liu kang #mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021 #ludi lin #liu kang/reader #liu kang x you #liu kang/you #fanfic #angst #romance #death #tension #beauty through ash

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sp00kworm · 4 years

Text

Butterfly

Pairing: Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull x Female Reader

Warnings: Slasher horror and gore

A/N: This fic is blocked from the tags but please enjoy! Reblogs are always appreciated. Gif is by me.

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His home was lonely. Jesse looked at the clock, his eyes burning with the need to sleep, but his mind racing. It was late. Approaching eleven o’clock. He’d had to work today. His company didn’t run itself, and there was a lot of accounting and management to do outside of his little hobby. Jesse looked away from the clock and stretched his jaw, the bone clicking from where he was cracked around the face with the bat. The bone had healed rather easily, but it hurt from time to time. His face, that was mauled. He wasn’t the stud he used to be. Handsome, a straight jaw and high cheekbones. Cynically, he snorted at the picture on the mantle he had of him and his late wife. Mrs Cromeans clutched at his arm at some high-class party, her red lips spread in a smile to match Jesse’s smirk. The second was him kissing at her cheek as she pushed him away. Sentimental. He was feeling sentimental. He didn’t hate his wife. She was convenient. A life outside of his hobby. Pretty. He didn’t even know she was pregnant. The police informant he had revealed the death report tentatively to him. The unborn child inside her wasn’t old enough to be saved. An accident he never expected to occur. He’d been gone nearly 4 months, and she was pregnant. He didn’t remember a message, but then he tended to let Spann handle such things. He probably ignored it. Jesse stood from his black leather couch and walked to the mantle.

He took the picture in his hand. His face was partially cut off, the camera focused on his wife and her smile. Jesse looked at it before he leaned over and threw it on the fire. The glass shattered with the force of hitting the logs and the frame quickly burst into flames, black paint peeling off the wood as it crackled and snapped. The photos disappeared into curling pieces of charcoal and he watched the frame burn with a certain amount of upset. Sentiment, he reminded himself, as he pushed himself away from the mantlepiece and touched the tattoo on his chest. The shaded skull stared back at him with hollow eyes. It was a reminder of the urges he had. With a sigh, he touched at his arms and traced the patterns of screaming, swirling ghouls all the way down to his wrist before daring to stand up a little bit straighter. He reached for the laptop of his coffee table and opened a chat window with Spann. It took a moment for the secure connection to open properly.

Spann’s face appeared in the bottom corner, her tired eyes looking at him through the camera. She was still sat in the office, but she gave him a smile, “What can I do for you, Sir?” She asked as she shuffled the paperwork away.

Jesse made sure his face was out of frame, ‘Make sure there is a clean-up crew on standby.’

Spann peered at the text, “Of course, Sir. Where are you heading out to?” She asked curiously as her fingers whipped across the keyboard lightning fast, “You’ve been in Hollywood for a while now, have you finally taken a fancy to someone? You’ve not been as active as you once were.” She smiled, sickly sweet and twisted, just like she always did.

‘Just have the crew ready. I will text if I find something.’

“Of course. Have fun, Sir.” Spann nodded and he closed the chat window before disconnecting from all the rerouting services and opening the internet to have a look for a bar that suited his fancy. Something exclusive so he didn’t have to sit and be gawked at by people that could well lose their eyes. His good eye roved the names of bars before he spotted a club. He recognised the name. A mob boss run thing, he was sure, but it would mean he didn’t get stared at with a knife on his hip underneath his jacket. Perfect. Jesse snapped his laptop closed and headed upstairs for a shower and to get appropriately dressed up.

The hot water eased his sore back, but it hurt on the sensitive skin of his face. He covered his face with a hand to his forehead as he washed the smell and aches from himself. The soap was sensitive, and he carefully washed his face, making sure to get around his eyes, to avoid any form of gunky infections. Those had been hell when he was laid in the hospital bed recovering. Still, a great deal of more work on his face this past year had made him far more recognisable, but it wasn’t the same. He was still scarred and twisted, his nose looking rather out of place. He ran a finger over the rougher skin, where the scaring was worst, tracing back over his forehead from his eyebrow. They had managed to graft new muscle and replace areas that were damaged. He felt more human now, but nothing would ever replace how he used to appear. Still, Jesse had paid good money for his better face, and he would be damned if he didn’t use it a little. He turned off the shower and dripped in the wet room for a moment before he wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled his razor out to sheer the hair from his head. It was therapeutic. Jesse leaned over the water to catch the hair on the back of his head before he held his jaw and angled the mirror to check his face. Nothing grew anymore, but that didn’t stop him checking.

He turned the mirror to his face and stroked the newly constructed nose. It had been four months of healing this time around. Plastic surgery galore. He’d had mountains of work since his run in with Princess’ little friend. He almost resembled a person. Still, he was scarred, and his eyebrows no longer grew hair along with his jaw. He was still blind in one eye, the brown eye cloudy. Jesse plucked his eyepatch from the shelf and replaced it before brushing his perfect teeth. He had paid too much money for most of himself to neglect it. He towelled himself off and walked from the bathroom to his room, stark naked, stretching his back before he plucked out his designer black shirt, trousers, and jacket. Once he was dressed, he pulled on his oxfords and pulled his case from underneath the floorboards. Jesse undid the latches and peered inside. The chrome skull stared back at him, along with the polished knives he used to remove pieces of his victims. The box of gloves sat nestled in the top corner but he didn’t put any on for the time being, letting his tattooed hands breathe. He pushed his fists together and looked at the two words. The words ‘FEAR’ and ‘PAIN’ looked back at him. With a final adjustment of his cufflinks, he took his wallet from the nightstand and left his house, activating the alarm and locking the door before he opened his Chrysler 300 and slid into the roomy interior. The engine roared to life before he pulled away from the drive. Jesse rolled down the tinted window before he pushed his middle finger out of it, flagging the neighbours who glared at him from their windows.

The bar was half of a club with the back for exclusive clients, which ranged from those involved in mob work, to celebrities. Jesse tugged at the breast of his jacket as he let the eager doorman take his car around the back. He stopped him with a finger in the air and he unlocked his phone and typed into the speech app.

‘Open the trunk or my glovebox and I’ll have your fingers, bellboy.’

“Yes, Sir.” He swallowed as he climbed into the Chrysler, pulling it away smoothly into the back of the club. Jesse looked around, his silver mask shining in the gaudy lighting. The mob knew him. He was the one who moved the weapons through his shelter companies. He took care of some of their business, butchering people like pigs for them when they took his fancy, and in, exchange, they let him have his pick of their girls for his games. He stepped through the door and a bouncer waved at him from the curtain separating the areas. The bar went around both sides, but no one could see through the curtains. Jesse walked through the bar, passing a group of women in lingerie as the bouncer let him through the other side.

“Good to see you again.” He grunted, looking up at the man as he drew out his phone.

‘Did you miss me?’ Jesse snarked through the automatic voice.

“You’re hardly any trouble.” He tipped his head towards a booth, “Make yourself at home.”

Jesse walked past him and headed for his table, pulling the curtains back before he placed his briefcase down and slid inside, sighing with the low lighting. He relaxed back against the cushions and reached for the mask over his face. With a hum, he pushed his thumbs into the mild adhesive and plucked the piece of chrome free with a twist underneath his chin in order to apply a new layer.

It was quiet at this side of the bar, the curtains blocking out a lot of the noise and the people that he didn’t want to look at. Exclusive. Jesse ran his fingers over the leather of the couch and hummed at the quality before he tucked his case beside him. The knife strapped beneath his jacket wasn’t going to cause any problems here. Jesse pulled the case around and listened as the curtains rustled beside him. He was used to this. The silver skull turned to face the red fabric and Jesse lounged back on his seat as it parted to reveal the curious face of the bartender. He smiled behind his mask at the professional wear, a shirt and bowtie on. His eyes roved lower behind the black material over his eyes, looking at the short skirt attached. Perfect. He greedily took in the sight, laid back against the cushioning, and slid his phone from his pocket.

You nervously parted the curtains of the exclusive booth and poked your head inside. Great, you thought as you slid the notebook from your pocket, holding your pen in your hand as you tried not to stare at the silver mask leering ominously back at you. His head dipped to look at your legs, admiring the view.

“What can I get you, Sir.” You asked, pen poised to write on the paper, “Any food or are you just drinking?”

The man in the mask didn’t respond, but his fingers whizzed across the keyboard of the phone, typing out something across the screen. He turned the screen to show you the words, ‘Drink. A bottle of bourbon. The one at six hundred.’

“Okay. Do you want a glass and ice?” You asked carefully, watching as he tilted his masked face.

His fingers clicked rapidly across the keyboard again, ‘Two ice cubes. Crystal tumbler.’

You had his sort before, “Of course, Sir.” You ducked back out and replaced the curtains before you headed back towards the bar to grab the expensive, six-hundred-dollar bottle of bourbon whiskey.

Jesse watched you through a small parting in the curtain, eyes following your backside as you returned to your colleague at the bar. He made sure to drop the curtain back into place as you turned from the bar and headed back towards him.

“Your drink, and your glass.” You placed the bottle and the tumbler down in front of the chrome-faced man and watched his tattooed fingers twitch against the leather as he leaned over to inspect what you had brought him.

Lazily, he took hold of the bottle neck, and peered at the label before he nodded and typed rapidly on the phone again, ‘Thanks. Run along, Piggy.’

You nodded and left his booth alone, catching a glimpse of tattooed hands pouring a drink as the red curtain closed behind you.

“Rude asshole.” You muttered under your breath as you headed back towards the bar, where you were needed on the other side, with the normal clientele of the bar. They were perhaps worse than the questionable celebrities and mobsters of the exclusive side, but you could cope with serving the sex workers and incredibly drunk men.

Joe gave you a look of concern as you came back through the curtain. He was an old man and had worked at the bar since he was young. He knew the sorts that tended to frequent the establishment. He leaned over towards you as you threw some glasses in the box for cleaning.

“Don’t fuck with that one.” He whispered, “The Boss doesn’t like him here, but he puts up with it. Rumour is he’s a bit of a knife for hire. Tends to get those jobs that required someone gutting for a video.” Joe scowled and rubbed at his moustache, “Stay far away and keep him happy with drinks.”

“Thanks, Joe.” You uttered before you served a beer, “What’s with the mask?”

Joe shook his head, “Best not to ask.” He then left you alone as you pulled pints of beer for a group. It wasn’t long before you swapped again into the back, smiling as you peered at the booths. You frowned as the curtain to the stranger’s flickered and he waved his hand before he curled his finger towards himself and pushed the phone through.

“Come here.” The automated voice called ominously, and you took a deep breath before you opened the bar door and headed towards the booth again, your notepad in hand. You parted the curtain and smiled at the mysterious man.

What you saw shocked you a little. He’d taken the mask off, revealing his scarred face to you. You tried not to stare, you really did. Awkwardly, you maintained the smile as he stared up at you, brown eyes dark as though he was daring you to say a word. One was covered with an eyepatch.

The phone clicked away before the screen was presented, ‘Entertain me.’ The voice was absent this time.

You read the words and frowned, “I can offer you a food menu or a different drink, Sir.” You replied quietly, dreading the next words that were going to come out of his mouth, “Unfortunately we don’t have any live music…and other options are not in my job description.”

Tattooed fingers curled against the leather before he grinned, exposing, bright, white teeth in a vicious smile. His chest jumped before he gave out a breathy, long chuckle. He curled his finger again for you to properly step into the booth.

He typed on the phone again before holding it up for you to see, ‘I don’t want you to suck my cock. Sit. Talk.’

Suddenly, you felt a little bit stupid, “Talk? What about?” You were still suspicious of the man.

‘Your boss. He owes me something. I want to know more.’ He turned the phone back to himself and typed again, ‘Ever mention ChromeSkull?’

Suddenly, you realised who he was. The personalised plates out the back of the bar, and the chromed mask in his lap. This was a dangerous man. Still, he was very capable of ending you now, with no one there to see.

“He doesn’t talk about business in the bar.” You swallowed nervously, “He only said he hoped he never saw your face in here again.” Your gut dropped as you realised either way, you might die.

‘Thanks, sweet thing.’ He typed and showed you before continuing, ‘Call me Jesse.’ You watched his face smile again and suddenly you realised that once he was very handsome. It looked like acid or chemical burn scarring. The mob liked to disfigure people as pay back sometimes, but you had an inkling his weren’t inflicted by the mafia.

‘What’s your name?’ He pushed the screen before your eyes as his fingers danced over the leather.

You cleared your throat and told him, “So are you here for payback?”

‘Something like that.’ He replied on screen, ‘Better company this time.’

Flattering but you still wanted out of the conversation. There wasn’t an opportunity to, however, because as you stood up to straighten yourself out, your boss walked into the booth.

Judgemental eyes roved you up and down, spotting you playing with your skirt. Jesse was quick to turn and replaced his mask, before your boss could see, the medical adhesive painted along the seams and the area of his nose. He turned back to look at Antony, the owner, with the haunting black eyes of the chrome skull mask peering through him.

“Making yourself at home with my staff?” Antony shot as he pulled a cigarette from between his lips, his face twisted with a glare, “Pretty sure you’re not welcome here anymore.” He dragged a hand through his slicked back, brown hair and snarled viciously before he returned the cigarette to his lips for another nervous drag.

Jesse’s mask tilted before he pointed a finger through the curtains and let the automated voice speak for him, “Justin had no issue letting me in, Antony.” He continued, “Plus, you owe me.”

“If this is about that fucking weapons crate again. I swear to God I didn’t know it was rigged to blow.” He dragged on his cigarette again.

“You lost me a factory, Antony.” The automatic voice droned hauntingly, “And I still haven’t had the compensation.”

“You’ll get your money, shit face.” Antony’s hand twitched for his jacket.

You panicked as Antony took a seat across from Jesse, his fingers steepled under his chin. It was tense, and you began to panic as Jesse loomed over in the man’s personal space. He was a giant, solid wall of power, and you instinctively took a step back.

Antony clicked at you, “Drinks. Pour them. One for our guest here too.” You nodded and dashed for another glass for Antony before shakily taking the bottle in your hand and pouring both of them shots.

Jesse ignored the drink as he took his silver briefcase and slammed it on top of the table. The wood shuddered under the force of the blow and you jumped as he snapped open the clips.

“Put your fucking knives away, Cromeans.” Antony scoffed.

Jesse slid his first, sharp hunting knife free from his hip and you swallowed as he took a camera from the case. The device had a stand that clipped to his shoulder and he snapped the little tripod on before tapping the top. A red light blinked on. Recording.

“Oh, so you’ve come for something to play with?” Antony laughed, “There’s a toy stood right next to you. Be my fucking guest!” He exclaimed.

You gave a squeak as Jesse’s large hands grappled you by the waist, dragging you into his lap, your legs pinned between his own as he breathed down your neck. He trapped you as he reached for the box of black nitriles in his case. Methodically, he peeled one free at a time and tugged them over the black tattoos covering his hands. The black nitrile traced the edge of one knife before he span it once, twice, and then placed the edge of the blade against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat at the cold press of metal against your soft skin. His other hand trailed over the skin, his hot breath tickling your ear before he swiped the knife up and dragged the sharp side through your hair. You listened to him inhale before, tauntingly, he made a kissing noise next to your ear. The blade was replaced against your throat as he typed on the phone once more.

“I catch my own fish.” The voice droned before Jesse shook the phone teasingly in front of you, showing you the text he had typed out, ‘Though I don’t think I want to play with you, piggy. You’re too much of a deer.’

Antony scowled, “What the fuck does that mean…” He howled in agony as Jesse flicked the blade around again and slammed it through his hand. The fingers twitched before he drew his other knife and sliced the appendages free, pinning you in place with his legs as he watched blood spurt over the wood.

Shock. You felt your heart burn as you wiggled backwards, closer to the killer’s chest before he peeled you free from his lap and dropped you back into the booth. Gruffly, Jesse slammed his bloodied hand over Antony’s mouth.

‘This piggy should have stayed home.’ His phone droned, again and again as the giant stood up, touching the tip of the hunting knife as he admired the shine of blood over the cold steel. With another flourish, he turned the saw half downwards and wrestled Antony over the wood, pinning him with a slam of his head before he dragged the saw downwards and watched skin and muscle part. He paused when Antony passed out and left the knife embedded in the man’s wrist as he looked back at you.

‘Look away.’ He typed with his clean hand. You did as you were asked, fear making you want to cry. He sawed the hand free and looked at the hand left, pinned to the table before he pealed his gloves free and brushed the bottom of your chin.

“Look alive, sunshine.” The voice chittered, “Get moving.” It continued.

You opened your eyes and Jesse was quick to turn you away from the mess over the table.

“Up. Walk. Back exit.” The phone said. With a shuddering sigh, you got up. Jesse’s mask tilted before he offered his arm. You hooked your arm through his and almost cried as he shut the curtains and blocked you from the view of the other bar staff with his towering figure. His video was still recording.

“Why did you…” You were cut off by a sharp grip.

Jesse didn’t speak until you were both outside, his keys in one hand, snatched from the storage and his phone held up to you in the other, “I taught them a lesson. They don’t fuck with me and get away with it.” He offered before he dragged you over to his car. You looked at the custom plates and the expensive brand. He laid his briefcase on the bonnet and sighed as he peeled free the chrome covered mask. Beneath was the same as before, heavily operated on with taught skin. A few scars were deep and heavy. His eye that was previously covered with an eyepatch was open, revealing itself as almost blind, the brown iris milky and covered. Still, he wasn’t a monster, just disfigured and evidently, through all the surgery, unhappy about what had occurred.

“Staring is rude.” The phone whirred, “Should be staring elsewhere, sugar tits.”

You felt yourself go red, “You just killed a man! You don’t have any right to flirt with me after you just made me an accessory to murder!” You flew off the handle, “And now you’re taking me out back to end me too!”

Jesse grinned, white teeth clenched together dangerously as his knife curled and span idly, looking you up and down. He held up the phone nonchalantly, “No I’m not. I’m taking you home.”

“You…You’re joking.” You took a step backwards only for him to grab you once again, breathing in the smell of your hair as his knife traced down your chest. With a flick of his wrist he popped a button off your shirt.

His phone appeared in front of you again, ‘Home address.’

You swallowed and repeated your address for him quietly. He hummed behind you, the knife disappearing before he turned you to face him. His face dipped down to meet yours as he laid a single kiss over your lips.

‘Let’s go for a ride, baby.’

#jesse cromeans x reader #chromeskull x reader #chromeskull #jesse cromeans #laid to rest #laid to rest 2 #laid to rest (2009)#chromeskull: laid to rest 2 #my writing #female reader #reader insert #jesse cromeans x female reader #chromeskull x female reader

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shadow-assassin-blix · 3 years

Text

Something in Your Mouth

Santiago “Pope” Garcia x reader

A/N: A song fic has been done. This is a Nickelback song (don’t @ me they are my favorite rockband). Warnings: Sex (allusions and some descriptions), BJ, shitty ex. Um. I think that’s it? Maybe some self-esteem issues

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased

Oscar/Triple Frontier tag: @m-123 @artsymaddie @mcrmarvelloki

Got to meet the hottie with the million dollar body

They say it's over budget, but you'd pay her just to touch it, come on!

Santiago Garcia was not a shy man. If a woman was willing, he’d do anything she was comfortable with. Sex in a public bathroom? Done it. Fingering under the table? Yes ma’am. Vibrating panties with him having the remote control? Hell yes.

However, this is the first time he’s ever been with a girl that was so shy. He met her at a local coffee shop that he had become a regular to. She happened to come in one day, needing some long-winded concoction that he wasn’t even sure was actually coffee, for her boss.

When she got it, she had the misfortune of some asshole running into her and spilling the coffee all over her. Santi after yelling at the dude who dared to get in her face about it, bought her a replacement coffee, and strolled out to his truck to grab an old army t-shirt he kept in there.

“It’s clean I swear, it’s a bit a good luck charm I guess,” He awkwardly explained as he handed it to her.

She took it from him running into the bathroom to change. She had to tuck in the bottom of it into her pants since it was bit big.

She stepped back out and quietly asked, “How can I return this to you? Or better yet, repay?”

“If it’s not too bold, may I take you out on a date? And you can give it back to me then?” He questioned hoping she would say yes.

She smiled shyly, nodding her head, as she unlocked her phone for him to give her his number. He quickly typed it in, sending himself a text as he saved it.

She grabbed the replacement coffee and left a moment later. He texted her that evening and that was the beginning of it all.

Needs to hit the big screen and shoot a little love scene

If Hollywood had called her she'd be gone before you holler, come on!

She worked for a fashion company, currently working as a secretary to the CEO, hoping to one day be able to present her ideas as a creator. She loved to draw; it was one of her biggest passions as a kid. As she got older, she realized she loved fashion as well, and combined the two loves.

She had finished up her degree some months ago and got a job working for a local fashion industry. It wasn’t nearly as famous Prada, Gucci, or Hermes, but the name was recognized as a steppingstone for those companies.

Granted, she thought she would be working in design when she applied for the job, not as secretary number 2. A job was a job, however. She decided that she would grin and bear it until she had her chance.

Running into Santi was strange to say the least. She was sure, so sure, that he was just joking when he asked her out. But lo and behold… that night when he texted her details, she was pleasantly surprised.

They had gone out on a few dates, and while he was always respectful of her boundaries, she could tell he was used to more… provocative women. It’s not that she wasn’t interested in exploring his ideas, it was that… he was the first guy she had dated in a long while that seemed interested in seeing her naked.

She was used to guys getting bored with her after the first date, or when they found out she worked in fashion, they mocked her.

Santi, however, thought it was interesting. He would actually listen to her when she would rant about fabrics or colors. He at one point told her he thought it was adorable.

“It shows your passion. I think it’s cute as hell,” He told one day after a rant in which she cut herself off thinking she was being annoying.

She did eventually open up to him that she wasn’t used to having a man be attracted to her for more than 5 minutes.

He was shocked to say the least, “Who the hell were you dating honey?”

She shrugged, “Jerks. So. I mean… I want to do all those things with you… I just… worry I won’t be good at it? I guess?”

Crafty little lip tricks, tattoos on her left hip

She's bending as you're spending, there's no end to it, so baby come on!

When she said that, his jaw dropped. He wanted to beat up whoever had made her feel this way. He found her shyness refreshing, but not at the expense that she worried that he would think she was inadequate.

“We’ll move at your pace, baby. I like you, for you. I’m not going to drop you like your yesterday’s news just because we aren’t having sex every time we see each other,” Santi assured her, with a kiss.

She gave him a look of appreciation and kissed back more firmly. He grinned at that, cupping her cheek as they kissed.

Dressed up like a princess, betting that her skin smells

Better than the scent of every flower in the desert, come on!

It took several months before she was ready to sleep with him, in a more intimate way. By that point, she had met his friends and their significant others. The girls were all too willing to help her when she asked for advice on what to do or wear.

Frankie’s girl was the calmest and took her shopping to get some nice lacey lingerie. While she appreciated the advice from Emma and Maura (Will’s, and Benny’s girlfriends respectively), she wasn’t quite sure she was up for the risqué ideas they came up with.

Valeria was the one who said to keep it simple. “You two have all the time in the world to explore kinks and such. You do not have to jump into that on your first night together.”

So, the two of them shopped, deciding on a dark blue number that Valeria said would make Santi drool at the sight of her.

That night, she had spent a good two hours shaving and primping before slipping on the barely there thong, and matching corset.

She tossed on a silk robe and waited for Santi to come home. She didn’t have to wait long before she heard the door open and close, Santi’s voice calling out for her.

“Hey babe, where ya at?” She heard him ask.

“Bedroom!” She answered waiting.

She could hear him walk down the hallway before opening the door. He stared at her curiously, taking in her robe.

“What’s happening sweetie?” Santi asked as he stepped further in.

She bit her lip slightly, as she undid the robe and let it slide off of her. His jaw drop as he gazed at her.

He sauntered up to her, his hands hovering hesitantly over her waist.

“Does this mean… what I think it does?” He questioned quietly, not wanting to assume anything.

She nodded with a small giggle, as she stood on tiptoes to kiss him. He deepened the kiss after a moment of hesitation.

The two of them crawled onto the bed, not breaking the kiss.

They spent the night, getting to know one another’s bodies. Learning about each scar, each spot that drove them crazy. It was night that fueled the fire in her; she knew right then… no other could ever compare.

She loves the night scene, bar queen, just living for the fun

Taking over every dance floor like she's the only one

After that night, the two of them were far more open about affection than they once were. It used to be she would shy away when he would kiss her in public. Now, she was used to it, and welcomed it far more. She still wasn’t quite used to the idea of doing anything sexual in public, which he was okay with.

He was just thrilled to know that she enjoyed his attention.

The two spent more time talking about previous experiences, mostly to learn about each other.

“In college I was definitely a bit more… wild child. I went barhopping with friends almost every weekend. Had a few one-night stands, if you can believe that. It was during one of my more serious relationships when I kind of lost apart of myself. He… he wasn’t like… physically aggressive or anything. He just… knew how to destroy every bit of my self-confidence,” She had told him one night while they were having pizza on his couch.

“I am sorry that happened to you. If I ever saw him, I would beat the shit out of him. No one deserves to be treated like that,” Santi said to her kissing her cheek softly.

“Hopefully you’ll never have to meet him. He was… the worst I dated. The others were… just… unsatisfactory. Then you come along… rescuing me from that jerk and giving me that shirt… that honestly kinda smelled,” She teased him slightly.

“Sorry, I was… just trying to help,” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like… I appreciated it, I truly did. It was better than having iced coffee on me all day. By the way… do you want that shirt back? I just realized I never returned it,” She said realizing that it was in her laundry.

“Nah. Keep it. I enjoy catching you wearing it randomly,” He flirted back.

She turned her head away, scrunching her nose up in slight embarrassment.

He turned her head back toward him to pull her into a short but passionate kiss.

In the spotlight, all night, kissing everyone

And trying to look so innocent while sucking on her thumb

They had been together for almost a year now. She had begun to feel a lot more like her old self. Felt more confident in her stride, and her work. In fact, her boss had informed her that a position had opened up in design and that she had sent her portfolio down to the lead supervisor to review.

She had just gotten off the phone with him and was super excited. She had gotten the job. She ran to Santi’s place and animatedly told him the news. He congratulated her and said that they should celebrate.

That night, the two of them plus the rest of the gang met at their favorite local pub for drinks and greasy foods. They were happily talking when she noticed someone come up to the table.

“Well, well. If it isn’t little Mouse?” She froze as she heard her ex’s voice speak.

“Rob. What do you want?” She asked not bothering to look at him, as she tried to control herself.

She could feel her hands shaking and it was getting a little hard to breathe.

“Not even going to look at me? Now, that’s just rude, Mousy,” His tone was a vicious tease.

“Get away from her. Now,” Santi’s voice cut in, cold.

“Who the hell are you? Her new squeeze?” He questioned with a scoff.

“Yeah. I am. You have exactly 10 seconds to walk away,” Santi warned him as he stood up.

“Or else what?” He dared.

Santi simply moved to stand between them, waiting a moment.

Rob started to laugh, thinking Santi was just all talk.

Santi punched him so hard in the face that he passed out before he hit the floor. Rob’s friends came over quietly to pick him up and carrying him out, not bothering to try and fight.

Santi breathed heavily through his nose once, trying to calm down before he turned back around.

“Hey, my little Lioness, you okay?” He asked her softly as he leaned closer to her.

She had started fidgeting with her fingers, a nervous tick he had picked up on early on.

He sat back down, pulling her hands into his, rubbing his thumb softly over her knuckles.

Conversation between everyone slowly picked back up, and she soon felt comfortable enough to join in again. She wasn’t as excited, but she tried to push past it.

When he eventually took her home, she collapsed into his arms. Her breathing was shaking as she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape her.

He whispered to her, “Let it out, my heart.”

She found herself sobbing into his chest.

When you never pull it out

(So much cuter)

He wished he had done more as he held her. Wished he had strangled the bastard. Here was this beautiful woman, whose confidence he had seen bloom over the past few months, crumble because of 2 sentences.

He whispered sweetly to her, telling her how much he loved her.

The tears eventually stopped, and as she pulled away, she apologized for the mess she made on his shirt.

“My shirts have seen worse things than tears. It’s fine honey. How about we get ready for bed?” He proposed as he led her to the bedroom and started strip down to his boxers.

She nodded, walking into the bathroom briefly to wash her face. She came out wearing his army shirt, joining him on the bed with a sigh.

The two of them fell asleep together, within minutes.

When she woke up, she realized it was one of the rare times, she was awake before Santi. She stared at him for a moment. She wanted to thank him for last night and an idea popped in her head.

She slipped her hand down under the covers, playing with the edge of his boxers briefly. When she had built up the nerve to do so, she slid her hand under his boxers, quicky finding his half-stiffened length. She ran her hand up and down it, enjoying the smoothness she felt as it quickly stiffened further. She slowly pulled it out from his boxers, moving under the covers as she did so.

This was something she had only slightly explored with Santi before. It had been a brief act, him claiming he didn’t want to cum in her mouth.

She gently ran her tongue around the head, savoring the slight salty taste of his precum that had beaded. She slowly took him into her mouth, breathing through her nose, to prevent her gag reflex from enacting. She bobbed her head up and down, her hands massaging what she couldn’t fit.

She heard him moan above her, and felt his hips jerk up slightly. The covers were pushed off her head as Santi woke up, looking down. He groaned at the sight before him; it was super sexy to see her like that.

She continued with her actions until he finally exploded in her mouth; she swallowed a couple times as she pulled away. She wiped the corner of her mouth, as she crawled back up him.

“What was that for honey?” Santi eventually asked as his senses came back to him.

“Last night. I wanted to show my appreciation for you being there for me and defending my honor,” She whispered to him.

He simply kissed her in response.

“I’ll always be there for you and defend your honor against assholes. You’re mine, my lioness,” He murmured against her lips.

With something in your mouth!

You're ripping up the dance floor honey

(You naughty woman)

It took a full month before she was able to shake off the experience. Santi was there for her every step of the way. Santi had taken to calling her Lioness, every chance he got. The nickname made her smile each time she heard it, especially when he was the only one who used it.

“Hey Lioness, we going or you goin’ to continue checkin’ yourself out,” Santi asked as he stepped into the bedroom, wondering why she was taking so long.

She had been staring at herself in the mirror making sure everything looked okay for their date.

“I don’t know. I think I look pretty hot, don’t you?” She complimented herself jokingly, twirling a bit.

He hummed as he stepped forward and checked her out in an exaggerated manner, circling her.

“Yeah. You’re pretty sexy Lioness. Now, shall we?” He offered his arm to her, giving her a flirty smile.

The two of them were going to go eat dinner and then go dancing.

Their meal passed by quickly and soon they were entering a club, music blasting.

Santi led her out on the dancefloor and brought her in close, his hands firmly on her hips. The two of them danced and grinded against one another. She occasionally showed off, twirling around him, bending over backwards, and dropping down low.

He laughed a little at first but soon his laughter turned to choked groans as he tried to smother his arousal as she showed off her moves, purposefully grinding against his crotch.

She was having fun, enjoying teasing him and hearing his grunts. They had been dancing for about an hour before he had enough. He took her hand and dragged her outside into the alleyway.

The cool air felt nice on her heated skin, but she wasn’t able to enjoy it for long as Santi pinned her to the wall in a deep kiss. She giggled softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands burying into his hair.

His hand snuck under her skirt, massaging her thigh, hooking it around his hip.

“Been drivin’ me nuts all night darlin’. Where exactly did you learn all that?” He asked as he kissed her neck.

“Told you. I went clubbing a lot. Had to learn some moves, to snag a guy,” She said with a soft moan as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

“Good to know,” He murmured his hips rocking into hers.

She could feel his hard on that she had caused and tried to hide her grin by biting her lip.

She heard him undo his pants slightly and felt her body tremble with anticipation. He shoved her underwear out of the way as he buried his length into her. The two of them both moaned at the sensation.

Their movements were hurried, neither of them wanting to be caught.

All too soon, the both of them were reaching their peaks with happy sighs. The two of them quickly sorted their clothes out, a moment before a group of people walked out into the alley to smoke.

Her and Santi quickly left before the group could notice anything off with them. Santi took her home, joining her upstairs for a much more thorough appreciation of her.

You shake your ass around for everyone!

I love the way you dance with anybody

(The way you swing)

Another couple of months had passed, and they had taken the next steps and she had moved into his place. The two of them having been together for almost 2 years now.

The only thing she really had to adjust to was just how often the gang come over to hang out. At first, it wasn’t a problem, but it had begun to feel like she never got any alone time with Santi when she wasn’t at work.

Today, she had gotten off early, and was texting Santi to let him know, hoping to have a late lunch with him or just watch something together. She had picked up their favorite orders from a local sandwich shop, drinks, and all.

She stepped into the apartment, freezing slightly when she heard multiple voices coming from the living room.

She walked over to the living room, raising an eyebrow. The guys had arrived early that morning, disturbing the happy mood she was in. Santi and she had woken up early, and she was feeling frisky and wanted some attention from him. Before they could get very far, the front door opened and in came Benny with no hesitation.

Frankie and Will had the decency to look apologetic for barging when they greeted her that morning.

“Still… here… I see. Don’t yall… I don’t know… have your own homes to go to… girlfriends, fiancés that sort of thing?” She asked not particularly happy to see them.

Santi winced as he answered, “Hey, sorry, we have a mission coming up. We have been strategizing.”

She nodded, unimpressed.

“Okay. Well. When you remember you have a girlfriend who wanted to have lunch with her boyfriend, alone, I’ll be in our bedroom….” She said annoyed, tossing his sandwich onto the table with his drink as she muttered. “Making no noise and pretending I don’t exist.”

She strolled into their bedroom, closing the door firmly. She changed into some cotton shorts and his old army shirt, before making herself comfortable on the bed and turning the TV on.

She had taken an aggressive bite out of her sandwich when the door opened to reveal Santi who looked a bit confused.

“Hey… what was that?” He asked her.

She didn’t answer, just pointedly stare at the TV, flicking through Netflix.

He slowly approached her, taking a seat on the bed.

“I understand that they are your friends. Hell, they are basically your brothers. I get it. However, do they have to be here…. everyday at all hours of the day? They came here at 6am and have yet to leave,” She began feeling herself getting frustrated.

She took a breath as she also felt guilty for complaining and shook her head.

“Forget it. Just… go finish your strategizing. Clearly, it’s important,” She stopped, taking another bite as she chose some random animal documentary.

Santi opened his mouth to speak but stopped, sighing heavily.

“It should only be an hour more,” He estimated, as he got up and slowly walked back out.

She made a noncommittal noise in response, focusing on the soothing sound of David Attenborough’s narration.

About halfway through the documentary, Santi had returned, a bag in hand. He took a seat near her again, and quietly unloaded the bag one item at a time. He placed each item in front of her: her favorite candy, chips, drinks. He also placed some flowers and a random plush.

She glanced down at it noticing it was one of those reversible octopus plushie with a smiley face on one side and a frown on the other. The frown side was facing her.

“The guys left. It’s just us. Mind telling me what’s going on in that mind of yours, honey,” He spoke softly.

“I don’t mind the guys being here. I do mind when they just waltz in without knocking. Or are here several days in a row. I get… I get that this is your apartment and I’ve only been living here 2 months but… I feel like I am just… your roommate. Not… your girlfriend,” She explained, pausing the documentary beforehand.

Santi nodded in understanding, “I see… yeah… This place has been… a bachelor pad of sorts for a long while even after we began to date. I will… talk to the guys. You’re right. This should be OUR place.”

“I feel stupid for getting short with you about this,” She whispered softly looking down at the plush, playing with it.

Santi scooted forward, sitting next to her, putting his arm around her.

“Don’t. I… I was excited to see your texts and was trying to hurry up our meeting so we could be alone, just wasn’t going as planned. You are perfectly allowed to be annoyed. Just gotta talk to me baby,” He told her pressing a kiss to her shoulder and her cheeks.

She nodded somewhat shyly.

“Did you really go out and get all of this?” She asked him, motioning to the pile of junk food before her.

“Yep. I did. Now then shall we finish this documentary, and I’ll make dinner to make up for missing our lunch date?” Santi offered kissing her hand.

She nodded once, “Can we watch the next one in the series too?”

Santi chuckled and said, “Yeah. We can watch the next one too. We can watch whatever you want.”

The two of them watched the rest of the one she began, and the next one. As they watched it, she slowly reverted the octopus to the happy side causing a small smile to appear on Santi’s face.

When the second documentary ended, Santi got up to go make dinner. She followed him wanting to help him prep food. He turned on the radio, which made her smile. As the two of them cooked, she danced around him, shaking her hips.

He laughed at her, as she convinced him to dance a little between stirs. Santi slowly realized it had been a while since they had spent time together, just relaxing. He had recognized that she had a point, since she moved in, they hadn’t really spent time together as a couple.

When a slow song came on, he turned the fire on low, and pulled her in close. He swayed softly with her, resting his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like a roommate and not my girlfriend. That wasn’t my intention,” He whispered to her as they danced.

“Apology accepted. I just… I love you and I was excited to spend the day with you and was disappointed,” She admitted quietly.

“I love you too. Promise me you’ll tell me if something’s bothering you next time?” He pleaded as the song ended.

“I promise. As long as you do the same,” She said back, as they pulled apart and finished up making dinner.

They made their plates and ate, catching up on what’s been going on with work.

Afterwards, they cuddled on the bed, and ate her 20 snacks together. She slowly fell asleep in his arms as they watched another documentary. In the morning, he was planning to talk to the guys about everything. He knew they wouldn’t care too much about setting some rules and would be understanding once her reaction from early was explained.

And tease them all by sucking on your thumb

You're so much cooler when you never pull it out

It took some time but after that, the guys made more conscious efforts to knock and not be there every day. She had apologized to them for her attitude when she saw them again. The three of them waved it off, ruffling her hair.

“We were being annoying. It’s not a big deal,” Frankie said with a shrug.

The boys with their girls plus baby Isabella were over for to watch a football game, a few days later.

“Yeah. We are not upset,” Will chimed in with a half-smile.

Benny bounded over and gave a loud exaggerated kiss to her head, “MWAH. You’re fine, Prada.”

She shook her head at the nickname that the boys had taken to calling her.

The boys piled in the living room to watch the game with beers. Emma, Valeria, and Maura joined her in the kitchen, wine glasses all around as they gossiped.

“So… Prada… have you ever designed a wedding dress?” Valeria asked her.

“Not yet. Why?” She questioned curiously.

“Well. I have everything else decided, but I cannot find a dress that I absolutely love you know? I’ve been to 4 different boutiques. Think you can help me out?” Valeria explained, with a tired sigh.

She held up a finger, telling her to wait a moment. She ran over to the desk in the living room that had her sketchbook, fabric swatches, and pencils. She grabbed all three items, rushing back over to the island.

“Alright. Describe to me what style you want, and then we will work on material,” She stated as she got comfortable with her sketchbook and pencils.

Valeria spent an hour describing the dress she was looking for, including fabrics. Once it was finished, she revealed what she came up with. Valeria gasped then squealed excitedly.

“That’s it! Oh… Now the real question… can it be made?” Valeria asked worriedly.

Prada took a photo of it and sent it to one of the designers, who made dresses as a side job, asking if this could be done. A minute later, she got a response telling her yes.

“Yes. It can be done. I’ll set up a meet so you can get measured and get it started,” She tells Valeria who tackles her in a hug.

“Think they can also do bridesmaid dresses?” Valeria asked hesitantly.

“Probably. I’ll talk with him,” She said with a nod.

The four of them continued to talk about wedding plans while the boys continued to watch the game. When the game ended, they had made their way into the kitchen to collect their wine drunk ladies who had been reduced to giggles.

Santi and she said their goodbyes with everyone and collapsed on to the couch together. She had made cinnamon rolls earlier and they snagged the last one. They shared it, not bothering with silverware, ripping off pieces randomly.

As they ate, she noticed that he had some icing on his thumb and she teasingly licked it off. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden intimate moment she created.

“Darling. You are going to be the death of me one of these days,” He said somewhat seriously as he kissed her, abandoning the last of the cinnamon roll.

“Hmm. Yes. But you see… I had a more nefarious plan…” She said ominously.

He looked at her confused watching as she suddenly shoved the last of the cinnamon roll into her mouth and running away.

“Mine!” She called out, her mouth full.

She heard him chase after her, she chewed quickly, swallowing as she reached the bedroom. She coughed a moment when it got caught slightly in her throat. Santi caught up to her, staring at her incredulously.

“Rude. Very rude. Distracting me to catch me off guard and steal our cinnamon roll? That deserves a punishment of some sort,” Santi teased, shaking his head.

She cleared her throat and asked, “Promise?”

He growled a bit, picking her up and tossing her on the bed, her giggles followed by her moans, filling the air.

Life was full of surprises. Santi wasn’t expecting his Lioness to come into his life, but he wouldn’t trade her for the world.

'Cause you look so much cuter with something in your

#santi x reader #santiago pope garcia #Triple Frontier #song fic

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faylor · 4 years

Text

Poison

By @faylor for @gr-eet

Rating: General

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Summary: Peter and Tony are at a SI press event/dance/gala and Peter accidentally drinks a spiked/poisoned drink meant for Tony.

Additional Prompt: “Do you even care?”

“So what d’ya think, kid? Burgundy or black for the tie?”

The question hadn’t even fully registered to Peter as he focused maybe a little too hard at the scribbles of words and numbers in his notebook.

“Or do you even care?” Tony continued with a chuckle.

“Yeah, that’ll look good, Mr. Stark,” the teenager blurted without even for a moment breaking eye contact with his work.

“Okay, I think it’s time to take a break.”

“I’m almost done, Mr. Stark. I promise, just lemme...”

“Kid, you’ve got literally all weekend to finish your homework.” He took a few steps closer toward the couch where Peter was sitting. “And besides, you’ve gotta get ready, too, you know. T-minus 20 minutes before we gotta head down. Pepper won’t be too happy if we decide to show up fashionably late.”

Peter finally managed to tear his eyes away from his work to look at his mentor. “I know, I know. I just wanted to try and get all of this done so I’d have the rest of the weekend free.” He shrugged. He was going to be spending the entire weekend at the tower, which meant plenty of time in the lab to tinker around and brainstorm new suit upgrade ideas. But first, he’d have to survive a fancy Stark Industries party that was being held at the tower. From what Tony had told him, it was supposed to be some kind of charity ball or something, and that it would be a pretty fancy event. Suit and tie kind of fancy. Which, Peter admitted, he wasn’t exactly the most comfortable about.

Sure, he was at least sort of excited about it, but at the same time he worried about feeling too out of place. He was sure there’d be basically no one there he’d know, and definitely no one of his age. But Tony has asked him to come, so of course he would. Plus, he thought it might actually be kind of fun to meet some new people anyway.

“I promise, we’ll have plenty of free time even after you finish your homework. Now come on, kid. Let’s get you all dolled up, shall we?”

Peter rolled his eyes at Tony, a small laugh escaping from him. “Fine.”

After Peter got dressed in his probably way too expensive suit that Tony had gotten for him, he made his way back into the living room area.

“Um, Mr. Stark?” he asked, an almost apologetic smile on his face as he held out his neck tie. “Do you think you could maybe...”

“Sure, bud.” Tony smiled, stepping toward him and taking the tie.

Twenty minutes and a bit too much hair gel later, Peter walked out of the elevator behind Tony, his fingers toying with the hem of his jacket. He wasn’t exactly sure what to expect as they walked down a corridor and finally reaching a doorway. Peter’s eyes widened as they walked though it, finally seeing the event room.

The entire ballroom was decorated so nicely. All the tables were set toward the front, covered in fancy, white cloths with plate settings already in place. And everyone there was dressed as if they were attending some big Hollywood movie premiere. Peter was almost overwhelmed as he took all of it in. The only kind of parties he’d ever been to were house parties - well, one house party, that is - so this was totally new to him.

He hesitantly followed Tony as he made his way through the room of people until they’d made it to a table where Pepper was already sitting and talking to someone Peter didn’t recognize. Tony had pulled out the chair next to her, taking a seat as he placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Hey, there you two are.” She turned to Peter with a warm smile. “You look very nice, Pete.”

“The kid does clean up pretty nice, doesn’t he?” Tony added.

Peter chuckled, feeling his cheeks turn a bit pink as he tugged at the bottom of his jacket. “Thanks. The suit’s really nice, Mr. Stark, really.”

“Don’t mention it.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Now, why don’t you have a seat? Unless you’d rather just stand there to eat your dinner.”

So he took his seat next to Tony, placing his hands in his lap as he peered around the room once more. It was filled with, as he’d expected, people who he didn’t know. There were maybe one or two slightly familiar faces that he’d seen around the tower a few times though.

“So, um, do all of these people work for you, Mr. Stark?” he wondered.

“Some of them, yeah. Some are from other companies, too. Might have to introduce my favorite intern to them, huh?”

“Oh, um sure!” Peter smiled, his enthusiasm showing within his features. Okay, so maybe this night wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d thought. His eyes wandered again, scanning the sea of people for maybe even one familiar face.

He broke his concentration as one of the waiters had approached their table, tray in hand as he offered drinks to them. Peter watched as Tony grabbed a couple of the red tinted glasses and held one out to him. He hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly. Was... Was Tony actually offering him alcohol?

“Don’t worry, kid. These aren’t alcoholic,” Tony assured with a smile. “Just sparkling cider. I don’t think I’d ever risk the wrath of your aunt if she found out I’d let you drink.”

“Oh. Um, right.” He took one of the glasses from Tony, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Thanks.” He lifted the glass to his mouth, taking a sip.

The moment the liquid passed his lips, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong. He slowly swallowed the swig he took as he glanced around the room. Nothing seemed to be out of place. No one seemed to be posing a threat. So what had made his senses go off?

His answer quickly came in the form of lightheadedness, and he blinked as his eyebrows crinkled. Where had this feeling come from? It was getting worse by the second, too. His eyes darted around, his heart pounding as he found it increasingly hard to catch his breath.

“Kid?” Tony’s voice was brimmed with worry. Peter couldn’t decipher what was going on, but he knew it wasn’t good. And now his stomach felt like it was on fire. Was he getting sick? But it didn’t feel like any sickness he’d ever had before. This was different. Intense. Painful. Unnerving.

And now the room was spinning, the walls closing in on him as his throat refused to let go of his breath. This was bad. Really bad. But he couldn’t panic. He had to stay calm. He wasn’t dying. He wasn’t. Was he?

He turned to his mentor, head spinning at what felt like a trillion miles an hour, and his heart was nearly jumping out of his chest by now.

“Mssr Stark...” Peter slurred, his legs starting to turn into jelly as the glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor. “I... I don feel s-“

And then he was on the ground, blackness caving in on his vision as he choked on the air he’d been struggling to intake. Tony’s voice faintly echoed through his ears before it began to fade. Then, nothing.

A faint beeping coming from Peter’s left was the next thing he remembered as he felt himself slowly regain consciousness. Then the pain in his head began to come back, and he tried to figure out where he was.

But he found it almost impossible to open his eyes fully, because everything was so bright. Why was everything so bright? Wait, was he actually dead? Was this that metaphorical light that everyone talked about seeing when you die? But there was that beeping. Right. Not dead. So, in a hospital? But why? What had happened to put him in a hospital? He remembered the party, and seeing all the people. Then he remembered the drink.

The drink.

It made sense. Drinking from it had been the last thing he remembered before he’d gotten sick. Before he’d blacked out. But that had to be it. The drink had to have been spiked with something. But why? Why would someone want to poison him? Oh god... had someone figured out his identity? His mind raced through the speculations a bit too quickly for his still aching head, the train of thought only stopping once he’d heard the door of the room he was in opening.

He forced his eyelids open, blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust them to the light, and he’d noticed a figure moving toward him. His vision came back into focus, and he saw that the figure was that of Helen Cho. Okay, so he was sure that he was in a hospital now. Or, rather, the tower’s medbay.

“Peter?” Helen’s voice was soft as she spoke to him. “How’re you feeling?”

“‘M okay,” he mumbled, still feeling a bit groggy. “Head hurts.”

“I’d say it does.” There was a slightly concerned expression on her face. “Do you remember what happened?”

“The drink...” He paused. “Was I... poisoned?”

Before Helen could even answer, the door swung open again, and Tony came practically sprinting through it, worry plastered across his features.

“Kid?” Oh, he sounded so worried. Scared, even. Peter blinked again, his brows furrowed as he watched his mentor approach him. Peter’s mind jolted again as he remembered that Tony had also taken a drink from that same tray last night. Had he been poisoned too? But he was obviously fine. Did he even drink his?

“Mssr Stark? I- Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Pete.” Tony’s tone softened. “You really scared me, you know. I thought...” His voice trailed off.

Helen looked between the two of them before she spoke again. “I’ll give you two a moment. I’ll be back in a few minutes to run some tests, Peter.” She nodded at him with a soft smile before turning toward the door and making her way out.

Peter’s gaze turned back to Tony. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“I know, I just- I thought I’d lost you, Pete.” He ran a hand over his face, sighing. “Bruce and I ran some tests on that cider you drank, and... I’ll be honest with you, kid, you shouldn’t have survived. But lucky for you, your healing factor was fighting it from the beginning.”

“Oh...” His eyes dropped. “How long- Um, how long was I out?”

“About eighteen hours.”

Peter’s eyes widened. Eighteen hours?! How had he been out for that long? Sure, his healing factor worked better while he was sleeping, but it never knocked him out for nearly that long before. So it must’ve been really really bad. Even Tony had said he shouldn’t have survived it. Then his mind toyed with the idea of Tony having drank the tampered drink, too. Oh, he didn’t like that. Not at all. He couldn’t even imagine...

“I- Mister Stark? Did you... Was your drink poisoned, too?”

Tony didn’t answer immediately, his gaze falling to the floor for a moment before it found Peter again. “Yeah. It was.” He paused. “I’m assuming whoever did this was going after me, but they obviously didn’t care if you died too as collateral damage.” His voice wavered. “And I don’t know what I’d do if...”

“Mr. Stark...” Peter sat up slightly in his bed, his face scrunching for a moment as he felt a slight pain shift through his body. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But I should’ve. I should’ve had better security and been more diligent on checking the staff, because I could’ve lost you, Pete. And I couldn’t live with myself knowing I could’ve stopped it.” His tone was becoming feverish as he stood from his seat.

Peter felt his heart skip a beat at Tony’s words. He almost felt... guilty. But it wasn’t exactly his fault, was it? Should he have been able to sense that the drinks were spiked sooner?

“I’m sorry...”

“Kid, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t even sense anything was wrong until I’d already taken a drink... I should’ve-“

“Pete,” Tony cut him off, sitting himself on the edge of the bed. “None of this is on you. It’s on me.”

“Mr. Stark, I don’t blame you.”

“I know, kid. But I do. I should’ve made sure you’d be safer.”

“But it was a party. Usually those are pretty safe.”

“This one apparently wasn’t. But I’m gonna make sure that never happens again.”

“But I’m fine. You didn’t actually have anything to worry about.” Peter shrugged.

“I’m always gonna worry about you. You’re my kid, Pete. If something were to happen to you on my watch, that’d be on me for the rest of my life.”

His kid? Tony thought of him as his kid. Peter felt his cheeks warm at the concept, but in the best way possible. And it wasn’t exactly like Tony was his dad. But he was the closest thing Peter had to one. And now Tony had told Peter that he was his kid.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Not anymore,” Tony continued.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright, Pete. I’m just glad that you’re okay. You feeling any better, by the way? Helen said you’d have one hell of a headache when you woke up.”

“Well she definitely wasn’t wrong about that.” Peter chuckled, rubbing the side of his head. “But I’m feeling a bit better now.”

“Good.” He reached up to tousle the teenager’s curls, a soft smile playing on his face. “Now rest up, kiddo. We’ve got some time in the lab to make up for tomorrow, if you’re still up to it.”

“Yeah, of course!”

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that homework you didn’t finish, either.”

“That you wouldn’t let me finish,” Peter reminded him with a smirk. Tony returned it with one of his own.

“I think that poison’s obviously gone to your head. You’re making stuff up now.”

“Mr Stark!” Peter’s face turned to feigned offense, inciting laughter from his mentor.

“Get some rest, kid. I’ll see you in a bit.”

And so he happily did, knowing that Tony would be there for him no matter what. Knowing that he was his kid.

Tag List: @zissa93 @mala-sadas @romeoandjulietyouwish

If you would like to be on my tag list, please let me know! 😊

#friendly neighborhood gift exchange #iron dad #spider son #tony stark #peter parker #iron man #spider man #marvel #mcu #faylor writes

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upholsterycleanings · 6 days

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

i'll be with you (but it'll be a different kind)

pairing: yoonkook/yoonjin | rating: G | ao3 read here

a short study on moving on

Yoongi broke the vinyl like he would a plate, a quaint awareness of a disaster but the quick denial of letting it fall – on the floor, in pieces. He swept each shard, vacuumed, and threw them in the bin. He crushed his music sheets and notes, thought better of it, and lit them with a scented candle.

Well, for fuck’s sake, the candle was his gift too.

So Yoongi walked to the collection area at three thirty in the morning, against the gusts of cold November wind, carrying all the evidence of the killer and the remains of its victim. He stood in front of the stack with an impulse to do something. Say a prayer? Curse them? Curse himself and bring them back to his apartment?

Ah, he wasn’t that stupid.

He truly wasn’t.

His stupidity was drained when he decided to fall in love with his roommate and friend that couldn’t be his in this lifetime.

So he came back to his home rid of everything Kim Seokjin owned and touched. Yes, even the bedsheets he washed yesterday.

“The couch it is.” He plopped down to its uncomfortable mattress and was immediately lulled not by the comfort of sleep but by the escape it offered.

He lost track of time in the next days… or probably weeks because the next time he went out for a walk to the mart, he was greeted by imposing Christmas decorations and too tall synthetic trees that wouldn’t look good in apartments that only housed one.

He came back, still alone, but at least joined now with ingredients for proper homemade food. He won’t be lonely on Christmas, not with two bottles of wine, a variety of seafood (which Namjoon hated the most, and Yoongi would order in the largest serving just to spite him), and his good old comfy socks.

He switched on the television to watch Melancholia, a fitting holiday movie in his honest opinion, and turned it up to the highest volume to tune out the looping Christmas carols outside his window and across the hallway where other occupants have rooms over to tide away the lonesome.

It was two thirty and two disaster films later that he heard the ghost of his broken heart.

It was one of the songs he wrote for Jin, the notes not at all the same, but the melody line was correctly embodied. He started up from his drunken stupor on the floor and trudged towards his kitchen sink where he dabbled his face in water.

It wasn’t the alcohol. So it certainly must be the crazy in him… well, until he realized the notes were coming from next door. The walls were thin anyway.

He nonchalantly knocked on the door of his neighbor, not caring at all if it was the devil’s hour, not when the tenant itself did not care about public disturbance.

It opened a crack wide enough for Yoongi to sweep the whole place up in seconds. Tidy floor, unmade bed, three monitors on a desk, neon lights, a christmas tree unabashedly decorated with the most frivolous pieces beside the dining table, and a guitar on top of it.

“Did I wake you?” He was taller than Yoongi, buffer, and very decorated like his Christmas tree. Daith, lobe, and eyebrow piercings, sleeve tattoos on his right arm, and shoulder-length electric blue hair tied in half-ponytail. But what caught his attention the most was the doe eyes that seemed too innocent, but Yoongi was familiar with the pretension that hovered on the surface. This boy knew pain enough to effectively cover it.

“That was my song,” Yoongi said in his usual deadpan delivery. He couldn’t get any cheerier than this.

John Doe perked up (if it could be any more possible). “Ah so you’re the one!” Then his expression immediately shifted to wariness. “Oh wait, you might be offended. I should apologize – “

“Some notes were mismatched, yes. Couldn’t be helped when you learned it by ear.” Yoongi looked at him for confirmation, and John Doe nodded enthusiastically. “But it’s all right. You played the piece so beautifully for someone who did not know it was a love letter.”

The way John Doe changed his smile to a thin line Yoongi knew at once that this was a person who simultaneously wore their heart on a sleeve but chained it before it could truly fall.

“Is it safe to assume the letter’s non-reciprocation when you haven’t played those songs for a month?”

“What else could there be?”

The neighbor bit the inside of his cheeks before answering, “Maybe you just didn’t need love letters anymore?”

Yoongi sighed. “Just keep it down. It’s three in the morning.”

“But it’s Christmas?” John Doe’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh my manners! Merry Christmas Sir!”

“I don’t believe in Santa Claus. Or Jesus. Or capitalist splurges.” Yoongi shoved his hands into his sweatpants. “I have marinara surplus. Do you want a plate?”

-----------------

When New Year rolled again, Yoongi knocked on his neighbor’s door. He slept with headphones in full volume, god be damned his hearing, on newly bought bedsheets that did not smell of Jin and pillows that did not have a strand of his hair. He really couldn’t turn down John Doe’s question of whether he could still play the cursed song or maybe he was two-bottles-of-wine-disoriented enough to put up a rather good argument why he shouldn’t.

“So will you cover your ears when you go to sleep?” John Doe asked after his second slurping of seafood marinara.

“Why should I?” Meanwhile, Yoongi surfed Netflix for his disaster anxiety fix.

“Try Seeking a Friend for the End of the World.” John Doe finished his plate clean. He let out a burp with an apologetic smile to his temporary Christmas host. “Well, I was wondering if I could still play the song. It’s yours anyway so you have all the rights.”

Yoongi’s eyes glazed over the first few seconds of the film, slightly amused at the insurance agent selling an apocalyptic package. “When music is released to the public, it never becomes the composer’s alone. It is also owned by the listener…and whatever they deem the music to be.”

“I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“I just let you eat my food.”

“I’ll be your friend for the end of the world.”

A beat. “Fine. Min Yoongi.”

But it was a week of listening to ragged notes and misplaced sharps, and his (still) perfectionist ass wanted to right it.

“It’s open,” Jungkook yelled from what Yoongi presumed was his computer chair.

He sauntered inside with measured caution and watched his neighbor tick away in codes on three different screens. Yoongi silently slid the music sheets on a small free space on Jungkook’s desk.

“Software developer?”

“Not really. I’m a solutions specialist, the yes-boy,” Jungkook replied with a smug grin. He hit enter and the lines start to jumble together as he swiveled to face Yoongi. “You re-wrote your notes. You must be a producer or something.”

Yoongi clucks. “Close. A film composer.”

“Do you go to Hollywood?”

“I’m not made for performative limelight. The shadows are bright enough.”

“Cool. I want to make a film someday.”

“You have a day job.”

“Can’t a man have two dreams?”

“Touche. One can never have too many.”

“What’s yours then, Yoongi?”

“Just one but it won’t be mine.”

-----------------

March. Spring coming alive, and for the first time in months, Yoongi genuinely thought he was getting better and over him. Jeon Doe (maybe he’ll always call him this) was a light companion – not imposing, a bit fluttery, but steady in his essence. Perhaps it was the continuous wonder that ebb in his eyes or the utterly soft disregard of pain for something nonchalant.

On the eve of March 1st, he stroked again the keys of his piano, and Jungkook came into his unit and accompanied him with a guitar. It was an improvisation of chaotic notes in Yoongi’s head and by magic, Jungkook floated with that tornado. The contrast and the blend gave way to an unlikely partnership of melody and rhythm.

And on March 1st, Yoongi felt butterflies again when Jungkook joined him on the bench and giddily watched his fingers dance on white and black.

But on the second day of the month, the butterflies were replaced with quicksand.

Kim Seokjin called and wanted to meet. It was funny how in a moment of hesitancy, it was his heart who doubled and his feet that led. Their favorite bar, whiskey on the rocks for Jin, dry scotch for him, and an expanse of silence of between them.

“He’s too busy with production at the moment.” Jin downed his drink in one gulp. Yoongi didn’t even need to ask.

And I’m the only one who’s available. “At the moment is how many months?”

“For three months now.”

“You should break up.” An unsolicited advice Yoongi gave more than twice with not much success.

“If I was a music company, maybe he would do me,” Jin jested, holding the empty glass in his hand. “Should I buy one?”

“Buy his affections as well and monopolize them.” It was a banter Jin was used too and maybe by now, he should have known that Yoongi hid half-truths in them.

“They’re too intense for me alone. He’s always destined for the world.”

What could Yoongi do but surrender at the unspoken request of comfort. “There’s someone who treats you like you’re his whole world.”

“I wish I did too.”

Yoongi never had a sip of his scotch, but Jin’s languid kiss was enough to get drunk on. He lost the flutter and the lightness, and dove headfirst in heavy, steely waters. Yoongi missed the suffocating pressure and the sensation of bursting at the seams. If his heart would burst at this moment, it would shatter a hundred times more for the many touches and whispers to follow. He would gladly die in this misshapen illusion.

-----------------

“Your door was always locked,” Jungkook greeted a month after, carrying a big tub of fermented kimchi. “My dad dropped by to give me spares.”

Two weeks before this, Jin left in a hurry to go to the airport, saying Namjoon had been in an accident, and two weeks after, Yoongi never heard back from him.

He accepted the side dish from his neighbor, but nothing went past Jungkook. Realization was plain in his face, but he chose not to comment on it.

“Yoongi.”

“Hmm.” It was danger meeting Jungkook’s eyes so Yoongi kept his downcast.

“I told you before.”

“What?”

“That I’ll be your friend for the end of the world.”

Yoongi didn’t respond, and Jungkook took the cue to leave.

He repeated that same line later that night when he heard Yoongi trash his place, his bare arm catching the brunt of a baseball bat just before it landed on the piano keys.

“Why would you go so far?” Yoongi sneered, anger seeping through his controlled demeanor.

“Why would you go so far?” Jungkook cradled his arm like he cradled his pain. Like it was nothing. “It’s the end of the world.”

“I need a friend.”

-----------------

It was easier being with Jungkook – lighter, happier, with no care in the world. He was also honest in a straightforward, unassuming, and endearing way especially when those doe eyes of his were used to an advantage.

When he told Yoongi in the middle of Battle Royale, out of the blue, with no precedence whatsoever that “I don’t want to be just your friend”, it knocked the air out of the latter. And when Jungkook followed it with “You can use me, however you want”, Yoongi knew he had to get things sorted.

Lest he wants Jungkook trapped inside the vortex of unresolved feelings.

So Yoongi didn’t give him a tangible response. He just skidded closer to him on the couch and Jeon Doe took the cue to lay his head on the crook of his neck as another student was slashed to their death on the screen.

When credits rolled in, Yoongi dipped his head and found Jungkook already waiting with bated breath.

-----------------

“Ah, you found me.”

Jin was back in his penthouse in Seoul, alone with no Namjoon in tow.

“Am I a week early?” Yoongi asked.

“I just got in today.” True enough, unopened suitcases littered his living room. Too many suitcases for a vacation. “I’m relocating back. Is there such a thing?”

Yoongi went to one luggage and punched in the password Jin used when Namjoon and him got together, it did not open, so he tried another combination. Ah, only his birthdate. Yoongi packed the first of his clothes to cabinets he was all too familiar with. He went on with this rudimentary task with Jin at the kitchen, cooking up something for the two of them.

In a parallel universe, Yoongi would have been happily contented with this.

Tidied up, folded, and free, the two went through a simple steak and pasta dinner.

“We broke up.” He twirled his fork endlessly. “It hit me when I saw him go to an award show. I could never keep up with him, Yoongi, not when I’m taking a backseat while his dreams sit in the front.”

“Don’t be silly.”

Jin stared at him like he was betrayed.

“Don’t be silly,” Yoongi repeated, drawling each word. “Namjoon and his goals sit in another sports car while you drive a rundown secondhand.”

That made Jin laugh. “You’re merciless.” And then he grimaced. “I never felt this neglected. It was never this way when I was with you.”

“We’ve never had anything, Jin. You didn’t let me have anything,” Yoongi finished clean his pasta. He folded his napkin like a good guest and waited for Jin’s retort.

But he just sighed, defeated. “I destroyed what good we had. I’m afraid I also lost the friendship.”

“You know I can’t go back again to you.” Yoongi didn’t know if he threw a question or a statement.

“I saw it the instant you came through that door.” Jin put down his fork and trained his eyes on his best friend. “Happiness looks good on you.”

“You would have known already if you had just looked at me.”

Jin gave him a sad smile. “And it would have been the best sight had I tried harder.” He picked up again his fork, his lips pursed, his eyes brimming with tears. It was a foreign scene, Jin coming undone in front of him, not because of Namjoon, because of him. “So who is this guy?”

“I call him Jeon Doe.”

Jin kept brushing the side of his eyes while he twirled strands of noodles in his fork. When he opened his mouth to eat, tears brushed down his cheeks, breaking in rivulets as he chewed. “That’s a stupid name.”

Yoongi noticed the upwelling – the comeuppance of what was lost trying to mask itself as the crescent emotions. He knew it when Jungkook kissed him back that night, that he could never go back to this uncertainty. “And stupidly in love with me too.”

Jin continued to chew with salty tears. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

His hands clenched at the name that left his lips. “I got tired of being your placeholder. You couldn’t just leave and expect me to stay in one place. I also crack every time you touch me, and I shatter every time you go. I broke, Jin. I got torn apart, and I wasn’t sure whether I could still handle your overspilling love for someone else when I couldn’t even hold any for me.” Yoongi’s fingers stretched to touch the dam that escaped his friend’s eyes. “You must understand.”

“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” Jin repeated. “And I understand it. I get it now. I see it. It’s just overwhelming – this mountain of regrets and what-ifs and utter disregard I made for my own happiness.”

“I got in the crossfire.”

“A victim willing.”

“But not anymore.”

Jin shook his head. “No, not anymore.” He intertwined his fingers with Yoongi. “I hope it works out for you and Jeon Doe.”

Not a minute longer, Yoongi pulled away from Jin’s touch. “I hope you heal.”

-----------------

Jin saw them on the same piano bench, playing a duet in the middle of a wedding reception, hands flying about, touches fleeting but enthralling, releasing captivating, fluttery sounds – almost akin to freedom.

He was seeing now in full high-definition panorama the gravity of his consequences. He let go of his two great loves, one he loved with no fail, the other he took to fail.

And so he welcomed the splendor of pain. He had two great loves, and regardless of how they ended, they deserved a thorough journey of grief. He could only hope that at the end of it was what he saw in Yoongi.

Freedom.

#yoonkook #yoonjin #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #mention of namjin #fic!pseudolily #fic!pinkhairedlily

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wearebrokenintheend · 4 years

Text

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Words: 4735 (I got caught up in this)

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, slow burn, strangers to lovers, age gap, reader is at least 20ish, also fluffy fluff 💕

+ Here’s the song I had on repeat while writing the smut. Just thought it would enhance the experience 💖

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

It was my parents’ annual Fourth of July party, where all of our family and close friends were invited to gather at our house for food, alcohol, and fun explosives. They began this tradition when I was small child, and never failed to make it more extravagant than the last. I grew up in such a patriotic household due to the fact that my father was a retired navy officer, and my mom was one of those people who will celebrate anything when she gets the chance. I was always encouraged to praise my country and heritage, especially on National holidays.

Of course, I loved celebrating with my family, and I loved our parties. The only thing that bothered me was how my parents would act during the parties. They’d drink all day and night and leave their worries behind, while I had to clean up and make sure that nothing bad happened to them or anyone else. I know that it’s good for everyone to just cut back and let loose every now and then, but there was a fine line between the letting loose and being a pain to everyone around you.

The thing about this years party was that I was finally allowed to drink, which meant that I too would be in on the fun, at least that’s what I assumed. It was hard to be surrounded by drunk adults having the time of their lives while I was stuck in the background sulking. Of course there were always some kids to hang out with, but I always ended up being left out.

While greeting everyone and joining different conversations, I spotted my Uncle walking into the yard with an extremely attractive man at his side. Immediately, I left the group of a few people to walk over to him. Our eyes locked and my Uncle smiled and held out his arms for a hug.

“Ah, y/n, it’s been too long since I’ve seen my favorite niece!” He greeted, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing playfully like he did when I was a child.

“Hey Uncle Dave,” I replied, smiling in his embrace. “I’ve missed you too.”

As we broke apart, I looked towards the handsome stranger, content with holding myself back from gawking at him. Something about him felt so familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Oh, this is my good friend Pedro.” He looked toward Pedro, “This is my niece, y/n. My brothers daughter.”

Pedro smiled and nodded at me, holding out his hand and shaking mine.

“It’s so nice to meet you, y/n.” He looked back at my uncle, “You never told me how beautiful she was.” He said with a slight laugh.

My uncle playfully narrowed his eyes at him, “Don’t make me kick your ass, Pedro.”

They both shared a laugh before my father spotted his brother, pulling him away and leaving Pedro and I alone.

“So how did you and my uncle meet?” I asked, wanting to know more about him.

“Oh, Dave and I met when we were filming a show of mine. We ended up spending a lot of time together on set and started spending even more time out of work.”

I nodded and smiled, remembering that my uncle was a writer and producer in Hollywood. Suddenly it clicked in my head, I knew this man. He was THE Pedro Pascal. I first met him on screen as Oberyn Martell, whom I had a crush on in the asoiaf book series.

He must’ve noticed my eyes growing slightly wider and recognized the moment of realization.

“I see that you know who I am now, correct?” He stated, breaking me away from my thoughts.

I looked up at him, feeling a deep blush burn across my face.

“Uh, yeah, you’re Pedro Pascal. I’m uh, I’m a big fan of yours.”

He laughed,

“Well maybe not enough if you couldn’t recognize me right away.”

I let out an awkward laugh and he smiled softly back at me.

“Don’t worry y/n, I’m only teasing. It happens a lot more often than you might think.”

I just nodded and found myself tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ears. Pedro noticed and leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“You’re very beautiful, y/n. Especially when you get all flustered like this.”

He pulled away and looked around to make sure no one was paying much attention to us. Meanwhile, I was taken aback that someone like him would ever like someone like me. I mean, yeah I was pretty, usually on a good day, but I wasn’t anything like the women I knew he’d been around.

Taking a sip of my wine from a plastic cup, I scanned my surroundings. I noticed that my parents and uncle were all preoccupied with the other guests, leaving no room for any unwanted attention. Then I suddenly felt a bit lightheaded, and I stumbled back a few inches. Pedro immediately grabbed my arm to keep me steady, then leaving it there once I locked eyes with him.

“Shit, I don’t know what just happened to me. Maybe I’m more of a lightweight then I thought.” I half-laughed, earning me a smirk from Pedro.

“Don’t worry, you’re still young and you’ve got plenty of time to get used to it.”

After giving him an amused smirk, I took another swing of my drink.

“You’re right, but I’m afraid if I try it all too fast then I might end up in the emergency room, or worse.”

With a sigh, I noticed my cup was finally empty, so I turned myself toward the house to get more. Something deep inside knew that I’d have to have even more alcohol to keep calm around Pedro.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head inside for another drink, or maybe just sit down for a bit to get out of this heat.”

Pedro have me an understanding look, but I saw the slight disappointment in his eyes. I couldn’t believe that this man actually wanted to be around me.

“I mean, you can join me if you want. I just thought you’d want to meet the rest of my family or something.”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

I rolled my eyes and let out a soft snort.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, Pedro. You’re the best company I’ve ever had at one of this things.”

He beamed at me and I looked around one last time, hoping everyone else was still preoccupied. I mean, I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea - wait, why did I suddenly care what everyone thought of me? Was I really that afraid? I shrugged my thoughts off and gave Pedro my hand. He grabbed it without missing a beat, and I lead him to the back door.

Once we entered the house, I walked toward the fridge, opening it and grabbing myself a hard iced tea.

“Would you like anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a beer, y/n.”

Hearing him say my name made your insides melt; I had to fight to keep myself on my feet. I found myself falling so hard for a man who had only met me maybe half and hour ago. Rolling my eyes at myself, I grabbed him a beer and walked over to the sofa.

“Here ya go, Pedro.”

I sat myself right next to him, our thighs touching. It made my nerves go all haywire, and I couldn’t control them anymore.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

There was a pause after he spoke, his words lingering like fingertips on my chest. I wanted him to call me endearing names like that for the rest of my life.

Pedro broke my train of thought by clearing his throat, trying to ease the awkward tension in the room. So it wasn’t just me who felt this way. I looked up at him, our eyes meeting once again.

“Pedro, pl-please tell me it’s not just me.”

He stops himself from responding by pursing his lips. He looked as though he had all kinds of internal conflict to suddenly deal with. After a few seconds past, he looked towards his hands. Then he moved to grab mine, taking my by surprise. He brings my hands to his lips and feathers his lips against my skin, leaving soft, slight kisses. As much I was wanted this moment to last a lifetime, I couldn’t help but satisfy my eager self. I decided to pull my hand away and replace them with my own lips, crushing them against his at last. I could feel Pedro’s slight shock at first, and then he quickly turned back to his calm demeanor. Eventually we pulled away from each other to catch ourselves. All I could notice was his bright grin, practically radiating our surroundings.

“Woah.” I muttered, my breathing still slightly heavy.

“Yeah.” He replied, running a hand through his dark hair.

It was at that moment that I knew I wanted this man to fuck me into the morning light, and I wanted him to start as soon as possible. Pedro then gave me a quizzical look, practically begging to know what I was thinking. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and unlocked it, going to my contacts section and starting a new one.

“Put your number in my phone.”

He looked down at my phone and back at me, grabbing it and putting his name and number in.

“Okay, so I’ve got a plan to get you in my room without anyone noticing we’re gone for too long.”

Pedro’s eyes widened, his eyebrows raising dramatically. I smiled in response to his unspoken question, blushing once again at him.

“But, only if you want to, of course.”

“And what exactly do we want to do?”

I gulped, my mouth dry as I was suddenly at a loss for words.

“Hm?”

I leaned onto him, my lips hovering over his ear. I bit my lip before confessing my desire to him, for him.

“I want you in me. I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

Pedro was left stunned by my request, but I could see the part of him that wanted me more than anything. He gulped and then let out a long, heavy breath.

“Are you sure this is what you want, y/n?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, what��s the plan?”

“We go outside together, and then separate. I go find my parents and tell them that I don’t feel good and that I’m going to bed. Then when I’m ready, I’ll text you.”

“What do I say if someone asks where I’m going?”

“Just make something up, like you need to go to the bathroom, or you need to lay down. I don’t know.”

He gave me an unsure look, but I raised my fingers to his cheek and he nodded. We both got up from the couch and made our way to the back door. Once we were outside, I spotted my mom and made a beeline for her.

“Hey mom, I-“

“Oh, y/n! I was starting to worry about you. Now that you’re here we can start the fireworks!”

“Yeah, about that, uh...mom, I think I drank a bit too much and now I don’t feel so hot. I think it’s best if I just head in for the night.”

My mother gave me a slightly disappointed look, knowing how much I enjoyed the fireworks.

“Oh, well, I suppose you should. I’d hate for you to miss everything, though.”

“I’ll be fine mom. I’ve got plenty of years left.”

“Goodnight sweetheart. Don’t forget to take something to help you sleep.”

“I will mom. Love you.”

As soon as I was able to, I walked back to the house. I spotted Pedro with my uncle and dad, and all I could think was how he was gonna get away from them. Would they have any idea what we’d be doing? No, I can’t think like that. I need this. I need Pedro.

I reached my bedroom and saw that I had some clothes and cups scattered around. I quickly cleaned everything up and made sure to spray some air freshener around. I undressed and put on my sexiest pair of undies and bra, then redressing. I put out and lit some candles to soothe the tone of my surroundings, hoping that Pedro would like it. Lastly, I found the box of condoms that I kept in the back of my nightstand for whatever. I then noticed that they weren’t open. Of course. I’ve never been able to bring a guy home and actually sleep with him. Well, there’s a first for everything.

As soon as I was ready, I found Pedro’s contact and texted him.

* Hey, I’m ready for you ;)

I waited for a few minutes until he replied.

* Okay baby girl. I’m on my way now ;)

I let out a quiet shriek of excitement at the fact that he called my baby girl. This is finally happening! Suddenly there was a knock on my door.

“Come in.”

Pedro swiftly opened and shut the door before taking a long look at me. He licked his lips as he walked towards me sitting on the end of my bed. I shot up and wrapped my arms around him, the two of us just looking at each other. I broke his gaze and slammed my lips against his, my tongue immediately slipping into his mouth. He growled as he pushed us onto the bed, the feeling of his clothed dick against my leg driving me crazier. Once he started kissing on my neck, I began lifting his shirt up his torso, begging for him. He helped me remove it, giving me a chance to take in his beautiful body.

“I hope I haven’t disappointed you yet.”

“Oh, I can already tell that you won’t.”

We smiled at each other before I removed my own shirt and bra for him. Pedro smiled bigger and leaned back down to run his lips against my breast. His mouth began teasing at my left nipple while he used his hand to play with my right one. I let out my first moan of the night, attracting Pedro’s immediate attention. His head shot up, and I saw the lust in his dark eyes. I nodded to let him know that I truly wanted this, that I needed this. He grinned in response, returning his attention to my breast. Now taking my right nipple into his mouth, he used his hands to roam my sides. Every inch he touched had lit up like a dull burning flame. The heat was rising and spreading all over, but never enough the painfully burn me. It was a heat that I had only ever dreamt of feeling. I realized that it wasn’t the feeling of Pedro touching me that lit my fire; it was Pedro himself that lit my fire. He lit it and made me burn brighter then I could have ever thought possible. It was at this very moment that I began to understand how much this man truly meant to me.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Pedro asked, pulling me out of my thoughts to notice him looked towards me. I hadn’t noticed that he stopped, or that I was breathing heavily and slightly shaking.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I just got lost in my head for a bit.”

Damn it, I ruined the mood for him! Now he probably thinks I was so bored that I drifted off. Why am I always getting stuck in my thoughts? I mean, the only ever make things worse for me.

“I-you’re fine, Pedro. I promise.”

“Okay y/n, if you say so.”

He reached up from my torso to place a tender kiss on my forehead, then one on my lips. I could taste the beer from his mouth, further intoxicating me. I let out a soft plea for me and Pedro let out another growl, his teeth now grazing my bottom lip as he pulled away from the kiss to focus his mouth on my neck and collarbone. He started at the corner of my mouth and made his way down my neck. His warm, hot breath sending shivers down my spine. Once he had kissed my skin he began sucking and gently biting, making sure to leave just the slightest of marks. He wanted to make sure that only I could notice them tomorrow morning, after he was long gone. The thought alone made my heart melt with pure joy. Pedro had cared about me enough to leave his mark. He wanted me to know that he wanted me. Not just at this very moment, but even after. He wanted to make the best first impression he possibly could. I softly bucked my hips up against his, begging for some kind of friction from him. He let out a short chuckle, looking back at me and caressing my face in his hands.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

My body let out a hum of delight, his words filling my heart and lower abdomen with butterflies.

“Please daddy. I need you now.”

I begged with all of my heart and soul, wanting to let him know just how much I meant what I said. He needed to understand that I was clay in his hands, waiting to be molded and created.

After what seemed like hours of waiting, Pedro left my upper body and pulled off my shorts. He positioned himself to place kisses on my inner thigh, making sure to leave more marks on me. I knew he could see and feel the warmth pooling at my center, he knew how ready I was. Yet he continued to tease me like this. Asshole.

Just as I was about to say something, he looked up into my eyes as he began using his teeth to remove my panties. The sheer sight alone was almost enough to send me off. This is the kind of shit I thought only happened in romance novels or something. Surely no man was ever this willing to go through all this trouble to further turn a woman on. But here he was, giving his all to please little old me. I felt my mouth pull into a genuine smile, my cheeks burning at my complete vulnerability and nakedness before him.

Once he got to my knees, he used his fingers to remove the fabric. I lifted my legs to help, feeling slightly guilty that he was doing all the work. After my clothing was strewn out on floor, Pedro took another longing look at me, doing his best to remember every inch of me in this moment. I could tell that he never wanted to forget this, and I never wanted to either. He then let out a soft breath.

“You’re so beautiful, mi amor.”

He spoke as if he were in a trance, like the sight of my body enough to completely hypnotize him.

“I’m all yours, daddy.”

My words snapped Pedro out of his thoughts, his eyes darting to meet mine. He licked his lips and hovered down between my legs. I spread my legs to give him more access. He wasted no time and gingerly places his lips on my folds. The sudden warmth made my shiver, my sex quivering for him. I let out a sigh of relief, but there was still an enormous amount of frustration in my body.

“I need you now, Pedro. Please. Please daddy.”

Pedro chuckled, the sound vibrating against me, tingling my bundle of nerves.

“Anything for you, baby girl.”

He then inserted two digits, spreading them apart to help adjust me for his length. He made sure to swirl his fingers around a bit, and then pump them in and out of me. I could hear my wetness through my groans, further turning me on.

Just as I was beginning to get used to his fingers, he pulled them out and put them in his mouth. The sight of him sucking my juices off of his own fingers was an absolute dream. This man kept on amazing me with his dedication to me. He lifted himself off the bed to remove his jeans and briefs. His cock sprung out of its restraints, almost completely erect already. In a swift movement, he grabbed the condom from the side of the bed and tore it open. All I could do was fixate on him rolling it onto himself. I found myself wanted to watch him pump himself, I wanted to see him finish himself.

“God you’re so fucking hot when you look at me like that, baby. It turns me on so fucking much.”

I smiled a shy grin, my cheeks flushing once again. Pedro bent down to give me a hungry kiss, his tongue now exploring my mouth. He pulled away and positioned himself to enter me. He pulled my body towards the end of the bed, my legs leaning of the end. His grip on my thighs tightened, pushing his cock to my entrance. With a rough inhale, he slowly slid into me, making sure I was alright.

“You can tell me if anything hurts, sweetheart. I’m more than willing to take my time.”

I looked up at him, shaking my head.

“No, Pedro, I’m fine. Really. You’re doing perfect, baby. So fucking perfect.”

He nodded and finally pushed himself all the way into me. He quickly pulled out, my slickness aiding him. Then he began to slide in and out, his tempo growing faster with every thrust. Before I could gather myself together, he started swirling his thumb on my clit. He was sending me further than I ever thought I could go. Without missing a beat, my body reacted to his thrusts and rubbing by releasing itself. I felt myself fucking squirting on him. As soon as he noticed, he let out a deep groan of delight.

“Oh fucking yes, baby. That’s it. Squirt all over daddy.”

I noticed my moans growing louder and louder with each movement he made. I was grabbing at my bedsheets, begging for release. The tension was building up in me faster than I could handle. I also began letting out high pitched moans, reminding myself of a porn star or something. It sounded so unrealistic to me, almost overdramatic. But here I was, putting no effort into these noises, all of them purely natural responses.

“Yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck.”

I muttered, almost forgetting how to speak through this euphoria.

“I’m so fucking close daddy!”

My lower abdomen had a feeling of tight coils being bunched together, tighter and tighter with every breath. I knew that I only had seconds before they would release.

“Yes baby girl, that’s it. Come for daddy.”

Pedro sped up his pace on my clit and thrusted harder, hitting my sweet spot. Within a few more thrusts, I felt it hit me. My climax had began and I was now riding off my own high. My eyes had slammed shut and tears were forming in them. I let out a squeal of absolute pleasure, my body almost convulsing from the amount of pure release. I managed to grab Pedro’s arms and began to squeeze, trying to find some sort of stability through my high. I was practically screaming for him at this point, not knowing what else to do. I’d only ever experienced a few climaxes this intense before, and they had all been a long while ago.

Pedro had begun his climax as soon as my walls tightened around him as I started mine. His cock twitched inside me, growing softer by the second. He let out a bundle of english and spanish curses, his grip on my hips tightening as much as mine on him. As soon as he was finished, he pulled out and removed his condom. He tied the end and tossed in it my trash bin by my nightstand. While he did so, I was still left in a daze, stuck staring up at my ceiling. It felt as though my life had been complete, for I had experienced the greatest high known to man. There was nothing else left that could ever compare to that feeling. I had reached the very top.

“You thinking again, honey?”

Pedro had put on his briefs and jeans, then his shirt. He’d gathered my clothes and placed them beside my on the bed.

“Yeah. Just thinking about nothing.”

He simply nodded and sat on my bed. I lifted myself up to put on my panties and went to my dresser to grab a t-shirt to sleep in. I found my oversized Fleetwood Mac shirt and slid it on, turning around to face Pedro. He took a look at my shirt and grinned.

“You’ve got a taste for men and music. You’re my dream girl.”

We both laughed as I laid myself on my bed. I cover myself with the duvet and reached out to touch Pedro’s lap.

“Are you gonna leave now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so, though. You’re much more entertaining than anything outside, my dear.”

He slid himself under my covers, cuddling me in his arms, kissing me. I felt at home; I felt truly complete. A part of me knew that this is what I want for the rest of my life. Pedro was the key to my happiness. I would never be the same without him, and I needed to keep him forever. I internally shook my head at my own self. I’m turning into a fucking sap for this man. I knew that we would never work out, but my heart still ached for him.

I placed my hand on his cheek, my thumb caressing his face. His slight stubble creating a pleasing friction against my skin.

“So what exactly did you see in me?”

He looked almost shocked at my question, completely caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you find me so attractive that you’re currently risking your life to sleep with me?”

He chuckled and shook his head, rubbing his thumb on my face as I did his.

“I just saw something different in you. The way you held yourself, the way you looked me in the eyes as we talked. You were completely sincere in every way, and you have this undeniable charm about you. You’re so intoxicating to me.”

My heart swelled at his words. Was I really like that? I mean, I try my best to be nice to everyone I meet, but I didn’t think I was so full of compassion. I never really thought that I was different in a good way, or that I even stood out to anyone. I felt tears growing in my eyes, slowly sliding down my face. Pedro suddenly looked concerned, worried that he’d said something wrong.

“I’m sorry, was that not what you wanted to hear? I-I mean-“

“No Pedro, it was more than what I could’ve ever expected. No ones ever said anything so kind about me. I don’t think anyone has ever given me much thought before.”

“Well then everyone else is a fucking idiot, sweetheart. You’re everything and then some, and only a fool would miss something as incredible as that.”

We pulled together and kissed once again, our hands wrapped around each other in a longing embrace. I pulled away and smiled at Pedro.

“Now when did you figure out that I had a thing for you? Or for older guys in general?”

I teased him, giving him a toothy grin. He lightly pushed me away while I burst out giggling.

“Sweetheart, I knew you had a thing for older men the minute we met. I saw how you looked at me before you even knew who I was. I saw the thirst in your eyes.”

I blinked at him, slightly embarrassed at my own self for being so easy to read like that.

“Was it really that obvious?”

“Definitely, and you know what?”

“What?”

Pedro paused, reaching towards me to tuck a stray piece of my hair behind my ear. Then he placed a soft kiss on my nose, his thumb gently caressing my cheek.

“I totally fucking loved it.”

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#pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oberyn martell #narcos #kingsmen #oscaar isaac #fluff #smut

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rawiswhore · 3 years

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Raven/Timothee Chalamet x Fem Reader- “Hebrew Hammer”

I bet some of you Timothee Chalamet fangirls are like "Who TF is Raven? Raven Symone from 'That's So Raven'? From 'Teen Titans'/'Teen Titans Go'?"

This Raven I'm typing about was a wrestler in the 90's and 2000's whose character he'll mostly always be remembered for is playing a depressed grunge rocker.

He's like the Kurt Cobain of wrestling.

You can either read about Raven or Timothee Chalamet, though I bet you'll all pick Timothee...

I couldn't decide who I wanted to type this fanfic about, they're both hot!

Though I kinda prefer Timothee over Raven...

@hellworldprinc3ss, here's a fanfic I've typed of Raven.

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Raven has one of the best wrestling gimmicks ever.

What was his gimmick?

He'll mostly always be remembered for playing a depressed, angst ridden grunge kid in WCW and ECW.

A gimmick that was perfect for the 1990's.

And...he's one of the few wrestlers that's been in just about every wrestling popular company: WWF/E, WCW, ECW, TNA and ROH. How awesome is that?

And...he just so happens to Jewish.

If it's Timothee Chalamet you want (which is what I bet you fangirls all are gonna choose)...

There's many people in Hollywood who are Jewish, from movie directors to CEOS to actors and actresses and comedians.

And one of the many Jewish people in Hollywood nowadays is Timothee Chalamet, the latest "it boy" actor who people are saying is the next Leonardo DiCaprio.

I can see why they compare Timothee to Leo.

But enough about that.

Sometime during Raven's wrestling heyday in the mid to late 90's and 2000's (when Raven didn't have that awful facial hair he had during his time in the WWF), you were lying in a bed with Raven in a hotel room.

Raven was dressed in his grunge gear he had in WCW/ECW, although he wasn't wearing any combat boots in bed, and he didn't have any makeup on his face.

If it's Timothee you want...

Timothee was sprawled out on a bed in a hotel room, and you were lying in bed right next to him.

Timothee's hair was fluffy and slightly long, looking the way he did in 2017, like when he appeared on Ellen DeGeneres, Jimmy Fallon and James Corden's talk shows.

This is my personal favorite Timothee.

One of your hands, specifically the tips of your fingers, were brushing up and down his chest, whereas your other fingers were playing with a few strands of his hair.

His eyes shifted to the right side and looked at you.

"You're Jewish" you mentioned, your eyes looking at him and your lips grinning naughtily. "And you've got a big, juicy, spicy kosher sausage down there"

One of your hands moved over to his crotch and gently squeezed his crotch.

His mouth burst into an ear to ear smile, chuckling at you saying that, his face turned pink in embarrassment.

Even you couldn't help but chuckle a bit and grin from ear to ear.

You know he has a big, juicy cock, you've sucked it and rode it many times.

"A big, juicy, kosher pickle" you added, even though referring to his dick as a pickle isn't all that sexy. "With emphasis on the JEW-cy. Get it? JEW-cy? J-E-W-cy? And you're Jewish!"

He laughed even more hearing that, his chuckle going into full blown laughter.

"I hope you aren't offended by me making all of these Jewish sexual innuendos!" you confessed.

"I'm not" he admitted when he stopped laughing.

That's a good thing.

Remember, in the 90's, Raven once crucified the Sandman (a 90's wrestler some could say Stone Cold Steve Austin stole his character from) on a cross when he was in ECW, and even the audience for ECW found this offensive and Raven had to apologize to the crowd immediately after he fake crucified Sandman.

"Y'know, Jewish men have circumsized dicks" you mentioned, which is actually true "And I'm hungry for your big, juicy kosher sausage and play with your matza balls"

You sounded sexy when expressing how you want his dick, leaning into him and your eyes looking at him while grinning naughtily from ear to ear.

He smiled sheepishly from ear to ear, chuckling at you saying that.

Where does she come up with this stuff?, he thought. And how does she know so much about Jewish culture?

Unless some of you fem readers are Jewish.

"Maybe even taste your matza balls too" you added, your fingers squeezing his crotch gently.

You could feel his hard erection and his nuts when you squeezed them.

His cock was growing harder and harder while you were lying next to him and caressing his chest and hair, and his shaft got even harder when you expressed how much you want his dick.

You lifted yourself off of the couch and sat on all fours on the bed, like how babies crawl, and displayed your ass in front of him.

You were wearing a tiny little miniskirt and a thong underneath, showing your ass cheeks off in front of him.

You dressed like this even before you got into bed with him, you had plans for him.

When you were standing on all fours in front of Raven, you were reminding Raven and referencing when some chick in ECW was crawling on all fours in front of him while he sat in the corner of the ring by the ropes.

This is reminding WWE/ROH/TNA era Raven of when he was in ECW and some babe in a pink nightie crawled on all fours in front of him.

"Am I giving you a hard-on, Raven?" you asked him, slightly wiggling your ass in front of him.

"Mmmmmhmmm" he admitted, nodding his head.

You smiled back at him and crawled towards his crotch area, turning your ass away from his face, where you undid his belt, separating the buckle from the strap, and slid his zipper down and unbuttoned his jeans.

"Do you want my ass in your face?" you asked him.

"Well, whatever you want" he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

Confession: you don't really wanna fart in his face, though you didn't mention that to him, although you haven't eaten anything that might give you gas.

He probably is afraid you might fart in his face too.

You then placed your hands on the sides of his pants and slid his jeans and his boxers down, until his bare naked genitals were exposed.

His erection sprung out of his boxers like a clown in a jack in the box, and your eyes were staring at the tip of his circumcised penis.

Your eyes could light up looking at the tip of his circumcised cock and you could nearly grin from ear to ear.

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft, and you leaned your head down into his genitals until his cock was inside your mouth.

When his dick was inside your mouth, you proceeded to suck on his cock, your head bobbing up and down his shaft as you sucked it, your mouth automatically going up his shaft while you sucked it.

Your other hand, meanwhile, moved to his balls, where you cupped his scrotum in the space in between your thumb and fingers.

You gently squeezed and fondled his balls, brushing the pad of your thumb above one of his nuts.

Your mouth could feel a little bump from his penishead/glans when you sucked on the top of his dick, your mouth going up from the bump, like a car driving over a bump in the road.

No, that bump is not herpes, it's his penishead.

When you reached the top of his penis, you rolled the tip of your tongue around his glans (as its referred to), that's where he was cut and circumcised as a baby boy.

Raven/Timothee, meanwhile, was looking at you sucking and licking his cock and playing with his nuts.

He grinned and smiled at you sucking his cock, and he enjoyed you sucking his dick.

His eyes rolled in the back of his head and his skin was getting warmer.

Precum was spilling out of his penishead's slit and trickling down his shaft, and your tongue pressed on his shaft and licked up any precum that spilled down his shaft.

You began to use the tip of his cock like a lipstick, holding it up to your lips, where you brushed the tip of his penis across your bottom lip.

His precum lubricated your lips like it's lipgloss, and luckily you weren't wearing any lipstick or lip gloss while sucking his cock.

When his penis head reached the corner of your mouth, you shifted it up to your top lip, brushing and dragging his penis head across your top lip.

You could feel the slit of his penis head on your lips as you slid his penis head across your lips.

"You're so juicy" you gushed and expressed while sliding his penis head around your mouth, your voice trying to sound sexy.

He watched you rub the tip of his penis like it's lipstick on your lips, which was strange, but he doesn't mind this.

Your other hand was trying to squeeze and caress his balls all while you're sucking and licking his cock.

Your tongue licked up any precum that dripped down his shaft, his precum tasted salty but yummy.

When there was a drop of precum that trickled down his shaft, you licked up that drip of precum from his shaft all the way to his slit where it came from.

Since his precum is trickling down his erection, and while you enjoy licking on his shaft, you also enjoy sucking cock as well.

You put his tip in your mouth again, gently sucking on his penishead, sucking and swallowing any precum out of his slit.

You sunk further down his shaft, his shaft getting inside your mouth, until you reached where your fingers were wrapped around his shaft.

You sucked on his cock, your head going up his shaft while you sucked it, sucking up any cum that trickled down his erection.

He does have a hot, juicy (and JEW-cy) cock and precum.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm" you mumbled while his cock was in your mouth, your onomatopoeia buzzed around his shaft, which tickled his erection.

Your wet, moist mouth lubricated his shaft, cleaning it from any precum dripping down it.

You moaned while you sucked on his cock, letting out some breath around and on his shaft, and your lips looked visibly perfect wrapped around his erection

Your thumb traveled around his scrotum and balls, the pad of your thumb stroking and caressing his nuts.

His balls were very sensitive as well and felt so fuzzy, like a peach.

Your throat, meanwhile, swallowed any precum that spilled out of his slit.

As you're giving him a blowjob, you wonder if you should suck his balls afterwards.

Your mouth could feel the veins in his shaft while you sucked his dick.

The tips and pads of your fingers slid and caressed across his scrotum, your fingertips feeling gentle and soft.

Raven/Timothee is lucky to recline his head on a pillow, this is perfect for him: lying on a bed, relaxing, while you're giving him head.

You've been giving fellatio to his penis for quite a long time, such a long time, that pretty soon, he groaned and shut his eyes.

The slit of his penishead released his jizz out finally inside your mouth.

Hearing him groan and finally cum inside your mouth, yeah, he came.

You swallowed his jizz inside your mouth and your tongue licked up any cum or precum that trickled down his shaft, cleaning any cum off of his dick.

When you couldn't taste any cum or precum on his dick, you moved your head away from his genitals and crawled up to him.

When you were snuggled and close to him, your fingers played with strands of his hair.

If this is Raven that you want...

"I know you have Jewish ancestry" you mentioned "But you look like you could be biracial, like half black"

Raven's eyes grew wide hearing that.

"You have such thick, curly hair and a wide, flat nose" you said to him "You even have some pretty full lips and your skin looks a little darker"

If it's 2000's era Raven you want (when he didn't have curly hair)

"You had such thick, curly hair in the 90's and have a wide, flat nose" you said to him. "Your lips also look a little bit full and you used to have some slightly dark looking skin"

You leaned into his face and put his nose in between your teeth, where you gently bit and nibbled it.

He can smell the sperm on your breath.

Raven's eyes grew even bigger when his nose was in your mouth, and he put his hand on your chest, pushing you away, until his nose wasn't in your mouth.

The sides of his nose had slight little bite marks on it, the nibble marks from you.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking confused.

"I just wanted to gently nibble on your nose" you confessed. "Maybe even suck your nose"

You're crazy, he thought.

Even though he could giggle and chuckle at you nibbling on his nose, not taking it seriously.

Later on, you sucked on Raven/Timothee's scrotum, licking and sucking his nuts, running the tip of your tongue on his scrotum.

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I hope you don't find this fanfiction offensive.

I wonder if people who love the wrestler Raven would think of this fanfic where the fem reader could also read about Timothee Chalamet.

#raven #timothee chalamet #90s #2000s #00s #2010s #10s #ecw #wwe #wcw #roh #ring of honor #tna #fanfiction

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femmeharringrove · 3 years

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merry christmas yall have the first chapter of a fic i completely forgot about

It’s Christmas eve, and Steve hasn’t slept in at least three days but that’s fine.

It’s not, not really, but those are the two words the boy has learned to live off of: that’s fine. It’s the motto of complacency, his father said once, after hearing it on the radio. Steve was just twelve at the time and already knew then that his father’s opinion wasn’t worth shit. Steve isn’t complacent, thank you very much. If he has to label himself, he thinks chill is a better word. He’s a chill guy, he’s the most chill person he knows, and everyone loves a chill person so it’s fine.

It’s stupidly early and he’s on the stupid green sofa in his stupid big house and he feels like shit, which is a surprise to exactly no one. The living room is a mess – he should clean it, he thinks vaguely, but he doesn’t plan on making a move anytime soon. If his parents were coming home he’d do it; can’t have them knowing their son’s become a wallowing slouch as of late. But they’re not coming.

His mother called yesterday, trilling over the line in her unnaturally pitched voice about how Prague was just beautiful this time of year and she wished he could be there to see but someone had to hold the fort down and speaking of they just won’t be able to make it back for the holidays but how would he feel about driving to Cincinnati on New Year’s Eve to join them at one of his father’s business socials that would be fun right? And Steve just listened because what else could he do?

He hadn’t been expecting them, anyway. The family hadn’t celebrated Christmas together in four years.

And in those four years he’d had options. Tommy’s family was happy to have him over, he spent many a holiday with the Hagans and then he’d spent that one truly merry Christmas with the Wheelers, and it was fine, but now he’s got none of that. This year, it’s him and the big empty house and he sort of hates it but it’s fine, thanks.

Steve watches the shadows on the wall shift with the rising sun and feels some vague sense of relief; it’s easier to breathe when the sun is out. That’s what’s been bothering him, really. When he does sleep, his dreams are plagued with darkness and cold and danger, and when he wakes up it’s still darkness and he feels like he can’t breathe. Those nightmares have gotten worse, infinitely worse over time. It’s easier to avoid sleep altogether sometimes. And he has no obligations this holiday season, no parties to appear at or houses to crash, so he can afford the heavy circles under his eyes this year.

It’s fine. It has to be fine, so it is. Even if it isn’t really.

Hawkins got snow last night. Steve drags himself up from his seat and meanders to the back door, eyes gazing out over the endless white carpeting the ground outside. He used to love snow. Now anything cold makes him uncomfortable. He hates the winter, makes him think of the dark Upside Down.

Or that damned Soviet Union and their officers and their cold, cruel faces watching on as he tells them he’s not a spy.

Had that really been this year? It feels like a lifetime ago. It feels like just yesterday. He tears his eyes away from the snow and pads into the kitchen in search of something warm. Coffee? Definitely coffee. He waits in the kitchen while the dark beverage brews and since he’s here he figures he may as well get some food into his body. Steve can cook – it becomes a necessity when you spend most of your childhood devoid of parents – but he doesn’t really want to cook. Takes too much energy, and he’s not willing to put said energy into that. So he goes with toast, because you can never go wrong with toast, right? He even slathers the bread with copious amounts of butter. It’s not the most fulfilling breakfast, but he likes it well enough.

The coffee finishes brewing and Steve spills a good bit of his father’s whiskey into it before dunking three spoonfuls of sugar in and retreating back to the couch. He grabs the remote on his way over and drops himself gracelessly on the cushions before pressing a button. The screen flickers to life and he chugs half of the hot beverage, flips through channel after channel before settling on some feel-good holiday movie. He hates these movies, he really does, but if he’s lucky it might be enough to lull him to sleep for an hour or so.

Steve used to love Christmas movies. He watched families on television gather together and enjoy one another’s company, children waiting for the magic of Santa Claus while parents shared tender moments under mistletoe. It was everything a younger Steve had desired in a holiday. Even when he had his parents home for Christmas, things had been different. Their home was filled with strange adults, co-workers of his father’s and social acquaintances of his mother’s. Santa Claus never came to visit him – his parents would simply give him a gift or two gathered from their trips abroad. He used to enjoy it, but as he got older the presents got less and less interesting, less personal. He went from wishing for those perfect movie-esque holidays to resenting them. That being said, they have their appeal.

Even now Steve can’t help but get a sense of warm comfort and joy radiating from the film, a warm sensation wrapping around his chest. It’s a strange comfort to him, in spite of his bitterness. There’s something inherently warm about holidays, and yet Steve finds himself feeling cold. He wonders idly what his parents are doing now, if they’ll remember to call tomorrow. The boy sits and sips on coffee and wonders and he’s right about the movie because he ends up dozing for a little bit. He dreams of families and caroling and trees and the whole scene takes on a peaceful, golden haze. Something almost physical wounds around his body like a cat rubbing along his frame in a form of greeting. It’s the nicest dream he’s had in a long time.

Which is why, when the doorbell startles him out of his dreams, Steve feels like he’s capable of murder.

The boy is so confused at first he doesn’t realize it’s his doorbell. When the incessant ringing gets accompanied by an even more incessant knocking on the door, Steve groans. The warmth seeps away and he heaves himself up from the couch. The mug is drained of its remaining lukewarm contents before he sets it on the coffee table. Footsteps land heavy as he stomps his way to the door, yanking it open and preparing to bite off the head of whoever dared to disturb him so early on Christmas Eve of all days.

His face morphs from a snarl to a look of surprise. Dustin grins up at him, oblivious to Steve’s previous anger.

And he’s not alone, either. El is there, too, brown eyes sparkling at him, arm tucked in Max’s as they flash him identical grins. On Dustin’s other side, Will’s smile is something more timid than the rest of his co-conspirators. Steve’s shoulders drop.

“What are you dipshits doing out here?” he snaps playfully. “Not you, of course, Will.” Will’s smile widens while Dustin and the girls make faces of protests.

“Hey!” Dustin squawks indignantly. “I’m your favorite, that’s not allowed to change!”

“Oh yeah?” Steve’s hands settled on his hips. “Who rang the doorbell?” El’s hand shoots up. “Uh-huh. And who started knocking?” The younger boy shares a guilty look with Max, who kicks guiltily at the ground. Will blinks at him in innocent confusion. Steve smirks. “So, every single one of you played a role in waking me up from my nap with the exception of Will. Little Byers is now my favorite.” Max groans and Dustin makes another scandalized sound, while Will and El both try to hide their giggles. Steve feels a mix of fondness and frustration as he watches them; that seems to be his default emotion around these damned kids. Shaking his head, Steve opens the door wider. “Okay, okay, now why don’t you all come in so I can figure out what I owe this visit to?”

“No need,” El responds, her laughter dying down. That amused happiness never leaves her face, however. “Will you have dinner with us?”

“Mom and Hopper want you to join us,” Will adds. “You can help out with the tree and everything.”

“And baking and cooking and shit, because Hop and Mrs. Byers aren’t the best in the kitchen,” Max finishes, and even though Will makes a small attempt to protest he and El share a knowing shudder. Dustin bounces on his feet slightly as he looks up at the older boy.

“Plus, if you say yes I can ride back to the house with you!” He grins broadly. “Whaddya say?” Steve blinks.

What does he say?

It’s a nice idea, sure. He loves these kids, feels safe with the two adults in question, and spending the day with them promises to be interesting at the very least. But if they’re all there, he has little doubt about Nancy and Jonathan being there too, and he’s really not mad about it anymore but there’s a little bit of awkwardness lingering between the trio. And even if he did go, those lovebirds will have each other. The party has each other, Hopper has Joyce. Steve is bound to be left out eventually. He knows it’s not on purpose, of course, but he knows how this goes. How many times has it happened before? And he’s already a little bit pissy this holiday season, that truth isn’t likely to make this any more enjoyable.

But eight pairs of eyes watch him expectantly, hopeful looks etched onto their faces. Steve’s gaze shifts past them, down the driveway and he finds Hopper’s truck waiting at the end and he doesn’t have to see the man to know he’s also waiting for an answer.

He doesn’t like disappointing people. He’s chill, Steve goes with the flow as a matter of principle, and this is where the flow seems to be leading. He makes a show of sighing, theatrics making the kids smile even wider.

“I shouldn’t –“ A series of pleas and protests interrupt him and he has to work hard to keep from smiling. Damn, Steve should have run off to New York or Hollywood and becoming an actor, he’s good at this. “- Oh, alright. I guess I can come for a little while. Dustin pumps his fist into the air as the others grin widely. Dustin rushes to the Beamer and Max isn’t far behind.

“Get your keys, Harrington, let’s get moving!” he shouts. Steve can’t help but laugh.

“Hang on, you little gremlin, I gotta get real clothes on! And do my hair!” The two set on riding with him dart back over and duck under his arm into the house, and Steve waves Will and El off. “Go on, you two, don’t wait for me. Tell Hop I’ll bring the little devils with me,” he orders. Both nod eagerly before setting off back to the car. Steve sees them off before turning back into the house. Max is in the living room, face wrinkled into something resembling disgust.

“Jesus, Steve,” she says, “Do you ever clean this place?” It has gotten pretty bad over the past month or so. Steve tries not to wince at the judgement he feels radiating off of the redhead.

“Never, it’s a point of pride at this point,” he teases instead, and she makes another face, nose crinkling before she rolls her eyes and makes a snide comment about messy boys. Steve reaches over and ruffles her hair, reveling in her giggled squawk of protest. “Oh, be nice, Mayfield. It’s a holiday!” Dustin’s footsteps thud down the stairs.

“It is the holidays, so I know you got me a gift, Harrington,” he states, eyes narrowing. “Where is it?” Max perks up in interest now, spinning from the curly-haired kid to the taller boy, eyebrows arching up.

“Oh, uh, presents? Yeah, um -” Steve smiles sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Dustin’s eyes go wide.

“You forgot?” He marches down the rest of the stairs. “I can’t believe you, Harrington! Party members are supposed to get gifts for other party members! How could you forget?”

“Steeeve,” Max whines, head falling back dramatically. “I can’t believe you!” And she shouldn’t. Neither of them should. Again, he’s sure he’s missed his calling in life with the whole acting thing. Of course he got gifts for them – tucked safely away in the trunk of his car. He doesn’t plan on outright putting his name on them, but he’s sure the kids will figure it out tomorrow morning, which ones he leaves for them.

Chuckling at their antics, Steve hops up the stairs two at a time and dives into his room. How did this become his life, dealing with more barely-pubescent teens than any nineteen-year-old should? Steve’s shower is quick, and he styles up his hair before digging out an ugly sweater his grandmother had gotten him four years ago. Back then people were convinced the boy would go through a growth spurt; he did, but he hadn’t beefed up in the way everyone anticipated. The sweater still remains baggy on his slender frame, but he wears it nonetheless. Jeans are hastily yanked on and socked feet are shoved into sneakers before he trips his way down the steps.

Max and Dustin are anxious by the door, and he grins at them as he approaches the hall closet and grabs a coat. He hears his keys jangle softly in the pocket as he pulls it over his shoulders.

“The two of you have no patience,” he teases, watching them dash out to the car. He follows at a slower pace, amusement tugging at his lips. The kids are practically buzzing with excited energy, urging him to speed up, and they clamor into the car the moment he gets it unlocked, Max beating Dustin out for the coveted shotgun position. The younger boy pouts at Steve in the rearview mirror. Steve smiles right back at him. “Don’t look at me, she won this round, buddy.” Max’s smile is smug next to him, and Dustin scowls before slumping in the backseat. Steve shakes his head. “Alright, everybody buckle – even you, slouch potato,” The kid’s sulking is immediately replaced with a displeased squawk, and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his pleased smile as he eases out of the driveway and out onto the road.

It’s an easy trip; Steve exits Loch Nora and cruises down Dearborn. From there it’s a turn onto Maple and he has Max dig out cassettes from the glove box now. Wham! sings about holidays and heartbreak as Steve drives carefully past the Sinclair home, then the Wheelers not long after. He’s sure the occupants of both homes are either not there or too busy to be peering out of curtains in search of their kids’ babysitter, but he doesn’t want to risk having them see him do anything remotely reckless, and so he adheres to the laws of the road. Once he turns onto Cornwallis Street, he relaxes, speed inching up as he goes. Dustin’s previous sour mood has all but evaporated and he talks in that loud way of his, leaning up so he can get a look at the two people upfront. Max is just as chatty, and Steve is happy to let them converse, offering small hums here and there to show he’s listening.

He’s not really listening, but he doesn’t need them knowing.

Whiskey eyes try to focus on the road as he makes another turn, this time onto Kerley. It’s been five months since Hawkins last had to fight off monsters. Five months since the mall went down in flames. Five months since the Soviets and their needles and their gate.

He has nightmares still, about the room and the faces and the pain. Sometimes Robin’s there, panicked eyes screaming at him to help. Other times he sees Dustin, the kid looking betrayed as the general smugly tells him about Steve’s slip-up in his interrogation. Some nights he has dreams that leave him feeling physically cold. Those are the dreams he can never remember – whenever he tries, his head aches in a sharp sort of way that quickly has him leaving the whole thing alone. Even now as he thinks about it a dull throb warns him against it just behind his eyes. His thoughts wander further as the Beamer rolls onto Mirkwood.

Robin thinks he needs help. She may be right. Two weeks ago he almost had a full-blown panic attack in the back room of Family Video after seeing someone who looked eerily like the so-called doctor that ended up tugging his fingernails out with horrific ease. Even Keith had been surprised, awkwardly giving him the rest of the day off. Robin, bless her soul, tried talking him down, but ultimately she just held him while he sobbed frantically. Every day after that she gave him this look and he felt like he was suffocating under the weight of her pity, the cold force of her concern, the bitterness of her remorseful anger.

He still isn’t sure how he knew she was feeling all of that so clearly. Steve’s not great at a lot of things, but he’s always had a knack for reading a room. You learned how to do that after witnessing your parents have screaming matches almost every night they actually spent the night in Hawkins; he had to decide whether the tension in the air was manageable or too electric for him to safely involve himself in. When you struggle up the social ladder of high school, you learn how to read people and earn their favor. It’s his thing, always interpreting. It’s been five months since that little quirk seemed to get more sensitive. He doesn’t exactly know how he feels about that, or if it’s a good thing at all.

Steve slowly tunes back into conversation as he turns off of Mirkwood and makes his way down a simple dirt path. From what he can tell, Dustin and Max didn’t quite miss his additions to their conversation during the drive. Easily the two chattiest people in the Party, the older teen’s convinced they could talk for a week straight, without pause, and never notice the lack of anyone else’s input. It’s impressive, if you ask Steve. Max’s electric blue eyes catch his for a moment and she grins widely. She looks for all the world like a normal girl, not like someone who’d almost lost her brother on the Fourth of July.

The Beamer finally comes to a halt. Steve laughs as the two kids scramble out of the car and rush up the driveway. He takes a moment to turn the ignition off and now he’s suddenly feeling rather hesitant.

Why did he let them talk him into this?

The boy slumps in his seat. He should go home. He should crawl onto the couch in the living room and hide under blankets the rest of the night. The kids would not be particularly pleased with him, he’s sure, but he’ll make up for it with the gifts in the trunk. But if he leaves, when is he going to have a chance to leave those gifts for them? He certainly can’t come back tomorrow, and after that he’s just going to feel bad. Up ahead, Dustin’s head tilts as he looks back at the car.

“Harrington! You coming?” Steve hesitates, waves the kid off, and as soon as Dustin turns again he drops his head against the wheel.

He really, really should leave.

The door is slammed shut with a nudge of his hip, and Steve trudges his way up the driveway. Joyce is at the door, all smiles as usual. In spite of his doubts, the boy can’t help but smile back.

“Steve! I’m so glad you came,” she greets, pulling him into a hug as soon as he gets near. Steve settles in her hold for a few brief moments before tugging away reluctantly.

“Hey, Mrs. Byers. I would have brought something with me, but -“ Joyce cuts him off, gentle hands waving about dismissively.

“Oh, none of that,” she chides, “And it’s Joyce, honey. Besides, you can still help in the kitchen.” Her smile turns almost sheepish. “Hopper and I could use an extra hand.” Both of them are stellar single parents, but Steve knows for a fact that neither can cook to save their lives. Steve’s been mastering the art since he was thirteen, he’s gotten quite good at it. He nods at the woman as he slips past her into the house and for a moment he’s overwhelmed by how homey the place looks.

Wrapping paper, string lights, and other festive odds and ends litter the floor. Hopper and Jonathan seem to be in the process of setting up the tree in a corner. A holiday record plays loudly, barely heard over the roaring chatter of the kids yelling and running around. It’s chaos, the very best kind. He’s surrounded by the inherent warmth of it all and the lingering trepidation melts away quickly as Steve lets his shoulders relax.

Eleven notices him first among the kids, and is quick to slip out of a confused Mike’s grip to greet him. Her hug is warm, and Steve holds her tight, one hand rubbing her back as he returns her embrace.

“Hey, kid,” he chuckles, ruffling her hair. Eleven beams up at him.

“You came,” she proclaims. Now Steve lets out a full laugh.

“Well, of course I did! I couldn’t just not show up. Besides, you and Will left me with the little hellions, remember?” Will comes next, shy smile creeping across his face as he tucks himself easily against Steve’s side. Steve pretends to give him a scolding look. “Had my ear talked off the whole way here thanks to you.” Will knows for a fact the older teen isn’t even remotely upset with him. The attempted glare melts into a grin and the boy relaxes, his smile growing easier as his slender arm squeezes around Steve’s waist, then retracts as he backs off. Lucas, already trapped on the ground with Max and Erica, waves in greeting. His teeth flash brilliantly in his bright grin and Steve tips an imaginary hat in his direction. Not too far off, Mike nods in his own greeting, gruff in his usual manner but maybe the holiday magic is working because there’s something unusually friendly about the gesture. Steve returns it in kind.

When Nancy makes her appearance, she falters at the sight of him and Steve’s body almost flinches with the strangeness of it all. Her eyes blink once, twice before she gives him that sad smile.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Steve’s answering smile is painfully awkward.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on coming. The kids roped me into this last-minute, you know how it is with them.” He becomes distinctly aware of Jonathan eyeing them from across the room and clears his throat.

Yeah, maybe this is a little bit of a mistake.

His escape comes in the form of Hopper, the man’s burly arm falling across his shoulders in a gruff greeting.

“Glad you decided to show up, kid. You’re the only competent chef in this house,” he jokes, but it isn’t really a joke. You’d think a couple of adults would know how to cook a decent meal – well, Joyce can cook a decent meal, but it’s just that. His smile is only slightly less awkward as he’s guided into the kitchen, tossing an odd sort of goodbye to the girl as he goes. Joyce gives him a relieved look as he enters the kitchen.

“Steve, do you think you could help me with this soup?”

He’s kept pleasantly busy after that. Between helping with Joyce’s mushroom soup, letting Dustin peel carrots for the pot roast, taking that job away after the kid hacked apart the vegetables beyond recognition, and attempting to restore some general sense of order to the lawless land of the kitchen, Steve barely has time to think about Nancy or Jonathan or the yelling all around him. He hardly pays attention to the pleasant buzz filling his body as a result of the warm atmosphere. It’s dark by the time all the food gets finished. He’s oddly proud of himself as he looks at the spread of food on the table. It’s nothing fancy, but beef and soup and biscuits on Christmas Eve isn’t a bad idea if you ask him.

He can sit at the table with the rest of the adults. There’s space, and Joyce asks him sweetly if he’d like to sit with them. Steve feels decidedly more comfortable on the living room floor with the kids, however.

And that just seems to be the bulk of his problems sometimes, doesn’t it?

Steve Harrington is almost twenty years old, and he has nearly no friends his own age. To top things off, he also has no idea what he’s doing with himself currently, his past haunts his sleep and his waking hours, and his future is all but nonexistent. He peaked in high school and his life has been in a steady decline ever since. But it’s not all bad – at least he’s got the tragic honor of babysitting the six toughest kids in all the world.

And they aren’t even kids anymore, are they? They’re creeping up on their fifteenth birthdays, all of them. Dustin’s is less than a month away already. Steve can’t believe it. They were kids just yesterday, it feels. He was a kid just yesterday, wasn’t he? Monsters have a funny way of forcing you to grow up, he supposes. And they’ve truly grown, his kids.

Eleven’s curls bounce as her head swivels back and forth to follow their conversation, smile warm and genuine as she leans against Steve’s right. Dustin’s always by his side, the little snot. He looks so happy all the time, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he talks animatedly on his left. Mike’s grown so tall, it’s crazy. Coltish legs are folded awkwardly under him as he sits by Eleven’s side. Lucas rivals Mike in height, though he looks significantly less awkward as he leans up against an engaged Max. She’s cut her hair recently; it’s not a bad look, though he knows she wants to grow it back out again. Something about her is tinged with a bitter sadness, something that makes Steve’s throat choke up in a most peculiar way. He gets it, though; Billy’s brush with death wasn’t that long ago, and she’s still struggling with her grief. But she’ll be alright, he knows. Billy’s getting better, her friends are too stubborn to allow her to struggle alone, even if Billy isn’t their favorite. And on Mike’s other side, simply enjoying the moment, sits Will. He’s grown too, but he’s kept much of his quiet mannerisms. He catches Steve’s eye and smiles a little wider, an action Steve mimics.

Sometimes, the calmer Will Byers is the one Steve claims as his favorite. In all truth, he doesn’t have a favorite.

He has different relationships with each kid, that’s all. His relationships with some are weaker than others, weaker than he liked them to be. Some of them share a bond even Steve can’t explain. But the one thing each relationship has in common is the boy’s love for each and every one of them. There’s no favoritism, even if he tells them otherwise. There’s no choosing, none of that. Each of these six kids have Steve’s whole heart.

It’s Eleven who catches him staring next, and she must see the fondness on his face because the smile she gives him is soft and tender and knowing in its own way. Eleven took to him surprisingly quick; he didn’t quite understand it yet, but he was glad the kid felt so at ease with him.

He’s dragged into the present by Dustin very suddenly collapsing against his side, snorting in laughter as Mike stares at Lucas, offense clear on his face.

“How do you not like the Beastie Boys?” he questions, and now it’s Steve’s turn to snort.

“No one likes the Beastie Boys, Mike,” he chuckles, trying to ignore the appalled look the younger teen gives him. “It’s just what you listen to when you reach the teen rebellion phase.”

“I’m not rebellious!” Mike huffs. Steve’s sure Karen Wheeler would beg to differ.

He doesn’t want to spend the night. Joyce already has her hands full with all these kids, and he doesn’t want to add on to that, so he goes out to the car once the kids have all gone to sleep in the basement and gets his sack of presents and he’s going to leave after giving them to Hopper, but Joyce stops him, a curious look on her face.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” she questions. Steve feels awkward now, shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“You’ve already got plenty of people spending the night, Mrs. By-“

“None of that,” she cuts him off with a wave of her hand. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow anyway if you leave, you’re having dinner with us.” Steve doesn’t remember agreeing to that, but now he doesn’t have a choice. Hopper, setting a gift under the tree, grunts in agreement.

“She’s right, kid,” he confirms as he stands straight again. “Can’t get out of this one, the kids won’t leave your door until you come back with them. It’ll be much easier on everyone if you just stay.”

And he doesn’t want to because this is their tradition, this is something they’ve been doing together for years as one large family and Steve isn’t really a part of that, so he wants to give them space, but Joyce is already dragging him back inside with the gifts, then she’s off grabbing blankets and Hopper busies him with the task of wrapping last-minute gifts until he forgets wanting to leave.

The couch is his for the night. Joyce gets him some of Jonathan’s clothes and even kisses his forehead and wishes him a merry Christmas before retreating to her room for the night. Hopper wishes him a good rest, and he understands because it’s already ass o’clock in the morning and it’s only a matter of time before those kids come barreling up the stairs to yell about their gifts. The living room is dark, aside from the gentle blinking of the string lights on the tree. It’s a silent night, indeed. He feels warm, and not just from the blankets tucked in close around him.

For the first time in three nights, Steve sleeps. He’s blissfully without dreams.

It lasts barely five hours.

The basement door is opened quite aggressively, and a cacophony of feet thud in before he hears a loud hushing sound, followed by the loudest whisper he’s ever heard.

“Dudes, Steve’s asleep!” one of the little shits hisses. Steve’s fairly sure it’s Dustin. He prays they turn around and go back downstairs for another hour or two.

“Shut up, he’s gonna hear you!” a girl’s voice hisses back, and she’s impossibly louder than the first kid – undeniably Max, Eleven would never whisper that loud. Jesus, who taught them how to whisper?

“Both of you shut up, let’s just get to the target,” a third, quieter voice butts in, and they’re just quiet enough that Steve can’t tell who it is, which tells him it’s either Mike or Will. He’s betting on Mike.

He knows what their target is. Steve takes a moment to contemplate. Either he lets them poke around the presents until Jim or Joyce come in and stop them, which will definitely result in loud protesting and a permanent end to his rest, or he can get up now and get a little bit of sympathy from at least Will for them waking him up. Either way, he’s awake now.

He hears someone poking at a box and goes with the latter.

“Aren’t you little shitheads supposed to wait for your parents?” he groans, eyes peering at the group blearily. All six of them freeze.

“Abort mission?” Lucas whispers to Mike.

“Abort mission,” Steve confirms before the other kid gets a chance, sitting up and stretching. Eleven treads silently over to the sofa and finds her way under his blanket to press into his side.

“Merry Christmas,” she hums, as if she has nothing to do with the early morning shenanigans that roused him. Will joins them on the sofa, and it’s clear the other four are trying to decide how to best fit themselves on the piece of furniture with their babysitter. It’s about to get very cramped, he realizes.

“Yeah, yeah, bah humbug,” he grumbles in reply, but no one misses his fond smile.

Joyce makes her appearance thirty minutes after that, and of all the things she expects to see on a Christmas morning, this was decidedly not it. None of the kids on the couch notice her upfront, too caught up in their giggles and hushed conversation. Steve looks tired, she notes, but he’s not as pale or tired-looking as he was yesterday. He may not be her kid, but she worries about him nevertheless as if he was. Shaking her head slightly, she pads further into the room.

“I hope you all didn’t wake Steve up,” she tells the younger teens as she reaches the sofa. Guilty looks are shared and a few mouths open in hopes of explaining themselves, but Steve beats them all to the punch.

“They didn’t,” he covers, smiling softly up at the woman. “I was up before these hellions tried getting into the presents.” Joyce doesn’t believe him, not for a second, but she leaves it alone as she leans down and gives Will and Eleven kisses on their forehead. Max gets one next, followed by a gentle ruffling of Mike’s hair because he gets fussy about kisses. Lucas smiles as he gets a kiss, and Dustin responds in kind. Even Steve gets a kiss, and he smiles in spite of his surprise.

“Thank you, for keeping them out of the presents,” she tells him as she straightens up and sways off towards the kitchen. He thinks about going to help her, but he looks at the kids sprawled out on the sofa with him and he just can’t bring himself to make them get up, so he stays put. They whisper back and forth about present predictions (Dustin makes a passive comment about some people forgetting to buy presents, Max makes a face at Steve and it takes serious effort to not laugh), and by the time Joyce returns with coffee the six are practically bouncing with restlessness. Their excitement is downright infectious, Steve feels their giddy joy in his bones, his stomach twisting in a good sort of anxiousness. Hopper shuffles in soon after, makes his way directly to the kitchen and gets himself a mug of coffee. He brings an extra one out for a very grateful Steve. Mike makes a face when the smell of caffeine reaches his nose. Lucas doesn’t have to smell it before he gets that disgusted look on his face.

“I can’t understand why you drink that stuff,” he states. Steve inhales the warm smell, sips on the drink (and he’s got to give the chief a thanks because it’s got just the right amount of cream and sugar – not too much, but just enough to take the edge off of the bitter taste), and pauses for added drama before forming his response.

“Lucas, my friend, let’s revisit this conversation when you hit nineteen.” He rests the mug on top of Eleven’s wild curls and revels in her giggled protest.

Outside, the sun is just beginning to poke through the darkness. Steve glances towards the window, watches the black sky turning into blue, and couldn’t help but feel that maybe, maybe, this Christmas isn’t going to be so bad after all.

In an attempt to distract the gaggle of children from the glistening presents under the tree, Steve finally nudges the kids off of him and makes his way to his feet, and he stretches out his body with a few, satisfying cracks in his spine. He’s getting old.

“Hey. You little gremlins want hot cocoa?”

They do, of course they do. And they follow him like a line of duckling behind their mother as Steve trudges into the kitchen. They sit in a row and happily sip on the warm drinks as the brunette then sets about making breakfast. Joyce rubs his shoulder and says he didn’t have to, but Steve is happy to do it, he likes making himself useful. Besides, he’s good at this, the kids love his pancakes. He even whips up scrambled eggs and slices of wonderfully crisp bacon. The smell draws a bleary-eyed Jonathan from his room. He looks surprised by Steve’s presence, but offers a small smile.

“Merry Christmas,” he offers, ruffling Will’s hair on his way by. He pours himself a cup of coffee, and Steve smiles back at him.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too.”

#steebie writes #steve harrington #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

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soldierallen · 4 years

Text

Married. 14

Appearances; Chase Crawford, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Henry Cavill, Chris Evans, Alexandra Daddario, Morena Baccarin, (Elena & Margo but their just characters).

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Hopefully you don’t get too mad at me.

Warnings; arguments, kissing, past memories, crying, anger issues.

Chapter 13 < Here

It’s been five long months of not a lot of real contact with Sebastian a few Skypes a few phone calls, he was in a meeting with the people at black rock and they told him they wanted him in Canada permanently he did such a fantastic job.. he sat there in absolute disbelief they wanted him to be CEO of their Canadian company and it was big deal but he couldn’t.. he wouldn’t

He was in his own house for the first time in five months, it was empty.. she wasn’t a around “she wasn’t here it felt cold” he thought, he sat on his couch fully suited with complete silence... I won’t take the offer I’m not going to even tell her. He knew he couldn’t stay away from her he couldn’t stop her from living her dream so that he could chase his own.

Bottles of champagne popped and people cheered from the company they all joined their boss in celebration that the article was finished and with enough evidence y/n put the man behind bars, this wasn’t suppose to be a case where a man was put behind bars however it happened her identity is protected she is in no danger what so ever, but of course she felt a sense of fear.

“You’re amazing” her boss said taking a last drink of her wine

“shut up no I am not, I put a man behind bars I feel so guilty” “he was a murderer y/n?” “I know but he had a family! a daughter I got to know.. and a wife who loved him and I lied and manipulated that family I made those people my friends and I ripped their father figure & husband away from them...chase...” she looked at chase and he wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying “what?” A little drunk he said “never mind, it’s done I can’t wait to go home relax and sleep with my fiancé” she was thrilled “how is he..” chase asked clearly drunk “he’s okay from what he told me last week”

“Oh yeah he’s probably screwing every girl he sees” he laughed slurring his words a bit “that’s funny when I didn’t ask for your opinion” she threw his jacket at him “I called you a cab paid em’ and gave them your address go home Crawford” “Y/n I have to tell you a secret” he stood up getting dizzy he put his hands on her shoulders “I never wanted to work for the magazine, i never wanted this... I wanted to be an actor in Hollywood i was considered for a big part in a movie but I’ll never tell Elena because what if I do get an acting job... I’m gonna have to be away from her and I don’t think I’m able to do that I love her so much but I have a dream I have to give up for her this is her home...” chase said his hands still on her shoulders he rubbed his thumb up against one and walked away waving to her leaving y/n’s semi home, she packed all of her things thinking about Sebastian... did he feel the same way chase feels? I’m holding him back? she hoped not.

“I’m getting on the plane” she said excitedly as she FaceTimed her four best friends “mya’s game is tomorrow I want you to suprise her is that okay” Anthony said “yes of course I can’t wait to be there” she saw Henry “how’s baby cavill?” Henry picked up the baby out of his crib “well william is great he can’t wait to see his beautiful aunt” he kissed his sons head and her heart felt warm, Kids was that something she wanted one day? “I love you baby I’ll see you later” he blew a kiss to the screen and Chris pretended to catch it “I hate you evans” “no you don’t you love me every single day of your life bye” both Chris and Sebastian hung up Anthony and Henry still on the line, “I need to talk to you about something” Anthony said as she walked to her gate “what?” “me and Henry had a conversation and I think you and Sebastian should have your wedding privately..” Anthony said she gave a strange look? “y/n Alex is planning something” Henry said still holding William when Morena came and took the baby “how do you know?” “I work for daddario and he said my daughter has plans to ruin the wedding and I need your help not knowing me and Henry are together” morena said, her heart felt bitter why was alex still hung up on us can’t she live her own life “I have friends in high places to and if she’s looking to ruin my wedding she has another thing coming to her” she said as she approached the plane saying her goodbyes, as she was on the plane there was a baby who kept staring at her “what’s with all the babies” she whispered to herself she smiled...

why was alex still trying to ruin her life she lost her job she lost her boyfriend she lost her best friend and everything just got back to normal & now she’s looking to ruin everything again!

When she walked through the door no one... “Sebastian?” She yelled it was almost 8pm it was an early landing she saw Margo talking on the phone in the dining room “Margo?” Margo smiled and hugged her “it’s so nice to see you mrs stan having both of you back Is pretty wonderful!” Mrs stan she liked the ring it had to it she smiled at the young girl Margo was a 20 year old who was cleaning part time she’s been working for Sebastian for a year and half she didn’t know her too well “where’s Sebastian?” “Oh he had a few errands to run or something” she smiled she nodded her head opening the door to put her things in her room.

there he was... “oh my god what are you doing in here”

she screamed hugging him so tightly he reciprocated squeezing the life out of her body “i wanted to suprise you however you came too early” she was still sitting in his arms, his legs spread apart his head on her stomach “I didn’t want no big gesture I wanted you all of you” she lifted his head kissing him he pulled away kissing her neck his hands finding their way up her legs a small moan released from her mouth which brought him back to reality with a smirk

“I haven’t been touched in 5 months” she said with a laugh and he did too he stood up kissing her hand “well since your so “hungry” I thought maybe you wanted dinner” he led her out of her room he looked back to see Margo gone, and the backyard set up like he asked “Sebastian” she was blown away two chairs and a round table fixed to perfection candles in the pool and dim twinkle lights “how long did this take” she asked out of pure curiosity which made him laugh “I asked Margo to set up some of it before I got home, and then I did the rest and the cooking may I add it’s probably cold now but we’ll make it work” he said with a smile on his face kissing the back of her hand while he held it “I love you” he said she kissed his cheek “I love you more, remember that I started it FIRST” she laughed letting go of him sitting at the table he sat as well they ate and talked about all their lost time

“so what’d the executives at black rock say?” he was gonna lie to her and he felt terrible however he couldn’t go he wouldn’t.. “they loved my work and thought I really builded the company for the branch” he smiled

“and?” she drank the wine in her glass “and they don’t want me to run the branch” he lied for her.. she frowned “I’m sorry baby” she reached over and grabbed his hand kissing it “hey look at the bright side we don’t have to leave the house or move” she said, he half smiled at her “yeah, you know how much I love you and this house” she nodded with love in her eyes she felt so loved by him

“I have a question, when did you know you loved me?” He asked as they sat at the table it getting darker and darker as they talked, “I think it was the day at the football game, I knew you meant more to me than just some crush” she said “care to explain?” he said and she laughed beginning to tell the story

••

herny’s on the field he just won the last game of the season, there was confetti, water being spilled on everyone it was a victory for the seventeen year olds that just started to figure out life a bit, she sat and watched everyone on the field hug and kiss Henry and congratulate him on his win, when an arm wrapped round her shoulder their heads laid on each other “you know some day y/l/n... we’re gonna start our lives go to college and all of these people won’t be around for that they are temporary but you I’m always gonna have you in my life sure we may all stop being friends at one point but I know you mean too much to me, to ever let you go” Sebastian looked at her and she kissed his cheek “you never cease to amaze me with your very tragic and emo words” he laughed and they walked up to the rest of their friends, everyone laughing, cheering, singing even in that moment she knew she loved him for real. This is it. He’s my forever

••

“I think after that I never stopped thinking about you like ever, I know it was stupid and childish to think I was in love with you in highschool but-“ he cut her off kissing her lips “you never cease to amaze me” he copied her words their lips touching slightly he stood up starting to clean the table and she helped him “what about you stan?” She asked “the night we sat on the hood of my car” he said, she knew that was what he was gonna say. “When we all moved out on our owns and got jobs taking about the move” she said he nodded his voice coming into her head remembering back to his wedding

"And I knew she wasn't you, nobody was you, that night we sat on the hood of my car, we talked about how lifes been treating us since the move, and I couldn't get you out of my head when i went home I should've seen it all before but it was my fault"

She looked at him waiting for him to tell the story, he was washing the dishes while she dried them

••

It’s a year later after four years of college, we’re in our 20’s and we’re finally out on our own. y/n’s settled into her own apartment that the boys moved her into of course Chris and Sebastian are living together, Anthony’s engaged and Henry’s pursing a life in football.

honking his horn sitting outside of his car waiting for her to hear it and look out the window, she does, she’s innocently opening her window “Sebastian Stan it’s four am what are you doing here” she yells “get dressed we’re gonna go somewhere” he yells back and the neighbor next door opens his window and yells out “shut up” and both at the same time they yell back “YOU SHUT UP” he gets angry and closes his window and the both of them burst out in laugther.

Finally after 20 minutes her door opens and she walks outside Sebastian opens her side of the car closes her door for her, and goes around to open his door and she reaches over and opens his door for him, it was a small gesture but Seb always remembered it.

they were on that hill he showed her first, They laid on the hood of his car y/n explained how working for Downey was. things were happening as an assistant to the assistant, Sebastian was just starting off working as a mail boy in the office at black rock. They talked for hours and y/n said something “you know He loves you seb, he’s your biggest fan you gotta let him know you trust him he got you that job” she warmed up to him telling him what needed to be done he always remembered that.

“What if he’s just waiting for my downfall to rub it in my face?” She nodded her head no “no father would ever do anything like that for a child they don’t love, he isn’t your biological father but he is the closest and best father you’re ever gonna get” she smiled at him and he smiled back she laid her head into his arm they cuddled up into each other and sat there talking till the sun rose to its highest, it was first night he felt happy since high school.

••

“I can’t believe you remembered I said that? I don’t even remember me saying it” he laughed at her words, “I lost the ring” he admitted to her.. “grandpa’s ring?” She said he nodded “I know your mad but-“ she pulled her necklace out of her dress “you mean the ring you’re gonna wear on your wedding day” she smiled he kissed her “I thought I lost it” “Sebastian it’s been gone since 5 months!!”

“the story reminded me of family and this ring resembles my new family...you...” she turned the water off kissing him he dried his hands with a towel while kissing her she laughed in between kisses from him actually drying his hands in the middle of their kiss, “you’re gonna kill me one day you know that” she said in between kisses “I know my love” his hands finally touching her sides “we have a soccer game tomorrow” she laughed thinking about mya’s game

“I wish we can ditch it and just go at it all day” he kissed her neck sucking slowly not enough to leave marks “I would love that but I can’t let her down” they went into sebastian’s room laying in the bed once she hit the bed she got really tired, it was the next day bright and early she felt the wine from the night before kicking her butt somewhat they took a shower together to “save water” she rolled her eyes at Sebastian when he said that he lovingly spelled words on her back in soap she loved being back with him it was dream..

she wore a baseball cap with sunglasses trying to hide her identity from mya Anthony’s daughter she saw Anthony and smiled “where’s my girl” she said holding sebastian’s hand Anthony pointed her out she let go of Sebastian to see her on the field kicking the ball around before the game starts, “So I heard this is a big game today?” She walked closer to the field “and one of my favorite nieces were playing today” she yelled out mya’s eyes lit up “Y/N” she screamed her name running towards her they hugged tightly, all of the friends collectively getting teary eyed they may seem tough as nails but the boys were soft like teddy bears

“you want kids?” Anthony said quietly just for the two of them to hear.. “if she wants them, I’ll gladly have her children if she doesn’t it’s still fine with me” he said to anthony “but I’m asking you do you want kids?” anthony said “maybe, you and henry are good fathers.. I hope I am as good as a father as..” he was gonna say Tripp but he changed his mind “Tripp?” Anthony said before whistling for his daughter who was about to start playing “yeah..” it was a soft subject with him. Y/n saw Henry with William and she kissed Henry’s cheek picking up the grabby hands baby, Sebastian was cheesing watching her with William, he did want kids but if she didn’t he wasn’t gonna make her..

Half way through the game all of mya’s “uncles” & “aunts” were doing the absolute most being extremely embarrassing family cheering her on, they used to do it for Henry when they was in high school why wouldn’t they do it for Anthony’s kids, mya’s team won it was a big celebration Sebastian was carrying Anthony’s other daughter nicole whilst y/n was holding William

“You know the two of you look like good as parents!” they heard a distant voice all of the friend group but someone else....“how are my little play toys” Alexandra appears from left field as all the families are mostly gone, sebastian’s jaw clenches “hey nick” he puts the little girl down “go with dad and I’ll be there in a minute” the little girl catches up to her father and y/n is in shock looking at Alex as if she seen a ghost she see’s Henry and hands the baby off to him both adults have no clue what’s about to happen.

“come on seb let’s go” She persists Alex mocks her facial expression and puts her focus towards Sebastian

“So it has come clear to me that the lovely couple is getting married! Wow” she was a bitch y/n wasn’t in the mood for any of this bullshit both of them had nothing to say to her they sat in silence for a second as the two of them started to walk away “you stole my life from me, and I will never get over it, that night you should’ve took the money and kept your mouth shut but here we are!” She laughed with no humor in her voice she yelled loudly as they walked away when Sebastian turned around

“robbie’s gone- “ she was about to continue when Sebastian blurred out “what a shocker!” giving her an annoyed look “maybe you should worry about chase crawford and your fiancé I heard they got fancy in Brazil together“ alex said y/n rolled her eyes in annoyance walking away from the situation, when in reality she doesn’t even look at other men in another light the way she looks at seb, he’s like a light in a dark room for her... her eyes only catch him

“you’ve been lying to me since 6 years why would you start telling the truth now? You’re petty and jealous get over it! Start your life stop coming after ours ” he grabbed y/n’s hand and they walked away “Fine if you don’t believe me!! I have evidence!” She knew how to get into his head she was with him for 6 years. she put ideas into Sebastian’s mind that maybe what if she did do something? She was gone for five months? thoughts ran through his head & she knew what those words were going to do to him. They got home in the afternoon.

Sebastian threw his keys on the table staring into an oblivion putting his leather jacket on a hook and pulling his sunglasses off, “you look so hot I think blue is your color definitely” she said as he helped her take off her jacket he lightly smiled with a kiss to her lips “I love the way you look in grey so..gorgeous” his one hand on her waist.. he bit his lip making her laugh when all of a sudden she saw the light in his eyes go out he was thinking again

“I’m not fucking my boss” she said in the smallest voice possible not to alarm him in any way, he looked up at her “your thoughts are very loud” He shook his head “what kind of proof does she have?” he hated himself for even saying that out loud and with that the only sound in the house were her shoes her steps to her room not knowing how he couldn’t believe her.

“Baby I’m sorry I love you! I know you didn’t do anything I believe you” it’s been two hours, Sebastian is sitting outside the door to her room, “I don’t know how to feel Sebastian, I’m conflicted as to why you’d think i am cheating on you” she shouted through the door the first words she’s said in two hours, “letting my guard down from what happened before...i- it fell back down please just open the door” as he said that she opened her door “I love you okay I would never intentionally hurt you” he said “I love you however I’m not talking to you right now” she walked out the room, into the kitchen, she heard a nofication noise “she texted me” Sebastian said with a swallow.. her eyes looking at his phone and then back to him “ open the picture” she said “y/n” he said looking at her “you want something to be wrong so try and find it ” She opened the fridge door with a tear running down her face she quickly wiped it so he didn’t see, “show me the proof” she said her face in the fridge grabbing anything she pulled out a water closing the door “it’s a picture of chase he’s holding onto your arms in a house there’s glass windows you’re wearing the white dress you came home in” he said, she nodded her head “do you see a photo of us kissing? Hugging? Making love?” she said slamming the bottle of water on the table, he says nothing staring at her blankly “he’s telling me about Elena what she means to him, and how he wanted a different career however he never took Elena from her family sure it wasn’t a great job but chase was considered for a big roll in LA...he didn’t take it because he loves Elena, is that what you wanted to hear! He was drunk & sad he held onto me for support because he was drunk i paid for a cab he went home” He had felt like the lowest person on the earth for thinking the love of his life would cheat on him that quick “I’m so-“ he was cut off “sorry” she said “you were so quick to judge me”

she took off out the door calling chase and Elena to tell them what’s going on, it started to drizzle, she felt heart broken that he would even think for a second she would cheat.

“alright so you’re telling me.. psycho alex is trying to LIE that you and chase were together?” elena said on the other side of the three way call

“Basically, and I don’t know what to do” she said “we sue?” Chase said nonchalantly like that’s the easiest route to go, “oh and restraing orders! The press will eat that up!” chase said making elena giggle

“guys what are you doing” she was shocked how normal both of them are taking this “listen My lawyer WILL get in contact with daddario and everything will be okay, don’t stress about it..”

“how’s everything at home” chase asked, “not to great..” she replied sitting on someone else’s stairs

“you’re one of my best friends I believe you I hope that’s worth somethin” elena said with a soft smile knowing she can’t see her, y/n felt her warmth

“I have some phone calls to make, I’ll talk to you later” chase said “bye” both of them said as chase hung up “don’t worry chase will get this done” she told y/n for assurance

It’s been a day. Everything has been defused but not in their home.

“hey” she heard his voice from behind her “what are you watching” “inception” she said with no emotion, he peered around the couch seeing her fully displayed body in loose fitting clothes, she was beautiful “I thought you hated the ending to this movie?” He sat next to her a few inches apart “I hate the ending because he got stuck and never got to see his family again” she again said he glanced at her “so you hate it cause he wasn’t actually happy at the end” Sebastian said rubbing his hands together “yeah it was all fake..”

“the guys are gonna come over in a little while, alone..although I wanted to know how that sat with you” Sebastian hated her short answers he wanted her to talk to him “it’s okay I have some work to do that the office anyways” she stood up walking into the kitchen “don’t play stupid games with me” Sebastian said now getting angry I talked about his temper long ago it never got better it just got controlled..

“I’m not interested in fighting I’m sad and I’m disappointed that you’d believe a women that cheated on you till the day of your wedding than a women who’s had your back since day one that danced with you on your rehearsal day because she wasn’t there, a women that sat in silence in a church pew waiting for you say the truth and you didn’t, if Robbie never walked through those doors you would’ve been married to her.” she finally said the words she been wanting to say for a while,

“well maybe I should’ve just married her” he said angerily, her eyes widen she was not waiting for that response, her tears welled up in her eyes and an instant regret appearing on sebastian’s face she ran out the door crying hysterically she hit into someone “I’m sorry I’m sorry” she repeated trying to recollect herself “hey hey it’s me what’s going on??” the voice felt so warming it was Henry he was the first to arrive, she hugged him so tightly crying into his arms his arms wrapped around her body securely his one hand reaching up to cradle her head “what happened” “I don’t know maybe you should go ask seb he always knows the right things to say” she unlatched herself from Henry running to catch a cab “wherever you need to go I’ll take you please don’t walk away” Henry yelled out “I need to be alone” she caught the cab and that was last Henry saw, he was fumming. walking into their house “what the hell did you do stan?” Henry said, Sebastian was in silence on his couch

“I said something to hurt her and I’m gonna regret that for the rest of my life” he stared blankly.. into the fireplace as the fire crackled and Henry stood there not knowing what to say.

#henry cavill #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fic #anthony mackie #chris evans #married series #married #the married fic #henry cavill imagine

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chris-evans-imagine · 4 years

Text

Forever Crush

A/n: I guess I’m a sucker for post-christmas writing, I love the holiday bubble lol. This was actually a request I loved and it took me a while to make it the way I wanted it’s long, 2500+. I hope you like it.

Request: I have a Chris Evans imagine request. It’s actually a crazy dream I had the other day. So the person is Chris’s sisters nanny for the kids, more just to keep them occupied while she is doing things around the house. Christ tries to work his Hollywood charm but doesn’t faze you. On Christmas Eve, you end up under the mistletoe with Chris. You can add more too! Thank you! I love your stuff ❤️

Warnings: long one-shot. Cursing, drinking. And fluff…

“Mac and cheese again?” you asked to little Luca. He winked and showed that hole in his smile that made your heart melt. He was a little beau.

“I like your mac and cheese, dad’s just so… urgh!” you couldn’t agree more, that’s why he laughed when you wrinkled your nose when the memory of the organic or whatever shit it was. That was everything but mac and cheese. Of course you had discussed with Scott Luca’s diet, he had a few requests which you always considered. Except for mac and cheese.

Scott and Jeremy had been your neighbors since you got to the building, having them as neighbors was delightful and they thought the same about you since you babysat their son every once in a while.

Today was one of those days, he was in your place. Scott was supposed to pick him up by dinner, but you knew that Christmas shopping would take him way longer. That’s why the little rascal was helping you out with dinner for two.

Your phone rang interrupting your favorite song.

“It’s your dad”

“Which one?” he asked while he licked the spoon. You smiled, maybe he wasn’t biological but he had Scott’s sassiness.

“Hey” you picked up.

“Hey, doll. How are you two doing?” Scott asked.

“We’re fine, we’re about to have dinner… how’s shopping going?”

“Oh, it’s a mess, people everywhere, we haven’t finished… I just called to tell you that my brother just got to town, he’s going to pick Luca up. And tomorrow we have a dinner, we’d love you to have you there, y/n.”

“Okay, which brother?” you asked expecting not to hear certain name but since you were aware he only had one brother, you obviously knew the answer.

“Chris, duh. Hey, what are you having for dinner?”

“Just a healthy meal, baby” you sounded as sarcastic as you could be.

“Please, don’t be mac and cheese”

“It’s mac and cheese” you laughed.

“God… don’t make my boy…” you cut him out.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, hope you finish soon, say goodbye to your dad”

“Bye, daddy” Luca screamed.

“You two are killing me, bye”

Luca was such an easy weight, he was all over dinner and sleep. He was sleeping on your lap while you watched Friends, it was around 9 when the doorbell rang. You moved him softly and put a cushion on his head. His blonde straight hair spread all over.

And when you opened the door, there was another blonde.

“Hello” he gave you a half smile, the one that he could use in a photoshoot. The one he could have practiced for ages to make it as perfect and irresistible as it could be.

“Hey, Chris, Luca’s asleep.” You let him in. your door wasn’t small, that’s why you couldn’t understand how he dare to invade your personal space.

“I figured. Scott told me you had his spare key, do you mind if I go and open the door and then pick him up?”

“No, it’s fine. Wait” you left him in the living room. You were a nice person, and somehow, Chris just made you feel so small and so… boring? You didn’t like it. That was one of the reasons you tried to keep your distance. He looked so arrogant and so untouchable, you were just… done. You just didn’t need that.

You took the key from the cabinet and turned just to face a steel chest.

“I… hum, told you to wait?” you asked looking at him.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I got distracted by your Christmas decorations. It’s really nice, huh.”

“Thanks. Here’s the key”

“Thanks, beautiful.” He had that look. The one that I can strip you here and make you mine, kind of look. You were so over it.

“Stop the act, Christopher” you demanded “it’s just the two of us, dude”

“I’m not acting, I think you’re beautiful”

“How? You don’t even…” you couldn’t reach the right word.

“What?”

“Have seen me.” you murmured and started walking towards the couch.

“I have, I’ve seen plenty of you. Your hair, it’s kind of red when on the sunlight. You have a birth mark on your hand and you trace it with your fingers when you’re thinking, and you are beautiful. You’ve got a beautiful face and a beautiful ass.” You stopped and turned to look at him. You could scream but there was an infant sleeping.

“WHAT?” you articulated but didn’t scream, didn’t know if you wanted to punch him or you just wanted to laugh. Or kick your own ass.

“I’ve seen you, that’s what I mean. Maybe I went too far” he scratched his head and smiled looking at the wood floor.

“How dare you? You were just doing fine, telling me those things and you screwed it up with the last part. No, no, how dare you to look at my butt?! That’s the real question. Your nephew it’s on the couch”

“Have done it before and won’t be the last time” he smiled as big as he could, he had beaten you up on this battle.

“I hate you” you murmured while he picked up Luca. Yeah, you hated how handsome he looked with a little boy on his strong arms.

_________

“I’m telling you, I was a jerk” Chris spoke as Scott cleaned the mess his son had left.

“You usually are when you’re with her, man. Why can’t you just be… you?” Chris took a long sip of his beer. The truth was he didn’t even know how to act in front of her. That… just came.

The first time he saw her, she had curled up watching Disney movies with Luca. He had come over to visit his family, Scott opened and when Chris when straight up to look for his nephew, he was just cuddled up with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He felt jealous of a 5 years-old. She was just... different. And so was he when they had an actual conversation.

He was a jerk. He was just… not him. He felt like he needed to impress her since she wasn’t the kind of woman he usually met. He didn’t know how to reach the level of a woman like that.

He would never forget her look when she woke up. Her hair was undone, her sleepy face made her look like an angel, and he couldn’t feel more attracted to the beautiful creature that was walking towards him.

“Hello” she spoke first.

“Hey, this is my brother Chris, did Luca wake up?”

“Nice to meet you, Chris” she reached his hand and smiled, the freckles and a dimple showed. Like if it was a sky at night, with its stars and moon. “Luca’s still asleep, I think I’ll go to my place to sleep too…”

“Need any company?” The words just came out of his mouth. There was an awkward silence between Chris, y/n and Scott.

“I’m fine, thanks” she spoke. “See ya, baby” she kissed Scott’s cheek and waved goodbye to Chris, there was no way she’d get closer to him. Not now, not ever.

________________

Doorbell.

Saying hello.

A glass of wine.

And abort the mission.

You had thought about the plan for tonight’s dinner.

Except that it wasn’t going to work out at all. How did you know it? Well, you didn’t expect HE would opened the door, since he was another guest, right? But he did, he was in front of you, tall, dark and beautiful.

“You look…”

“Don’t say beautiful” you warned and he smiled. He knew he’d need to improve his game. Or at least, just try to be himself.

“I was going to say spectacular. May I help you with your coat?” you rose your eyebrow and nodded. “I’m sorry for what I said last night” he spoke, you crossed your arms and watched him move

“It’s okay, I don’t want things to be awkward” and that was the new plan, just let things go. Easy? Nope.

“I meant it, tho”

“Oh, my God” you walked away looking for that urgent glass of wine.

You chatted with the people that was around. but still, it was one of those days when even small talk made you feel like you needed something stronger than wine. Lucky for you, you knew where Scott kept the grown-ups boose.

You pour a Scotch and... That was it. Plan B.

_____________

“Should I be worried?” Scott asked Chris.

“Why?” he asked drinking his beer.

“She’s… tipsy, I’ve only seen her drunk twice”

“I’ll take care of her. When everything gets… fuzzy I’ll take her home”

“No way! She hates you” Scott remembered to Chris. The older brother looked at you across the room, you were smiling and talking. You laughed. He loved your laugh.

“And you are the host, you can’t leave. And I’ll be good, I promise. I won’t drink anymore so I’ll be wide awake”

“Okay” Scott accepted. “Take care of her, Chris. I’m telling you”

________________

You went to the kitchen and it was like Luca had left all his Legos, you walked dodging… anything. You were just tipsy.

Something fell. You knew something had fallen, you hit it with your elbow. You stopped and swirl looking for it. But you got dizzy, lucky for you, you weren’t alone.

“I got you, come on” someone grabbed your waist and make you sat on the counter.

“I’m fine, I just want to go home” you spoke. You were like a spoiled little girl, before the lecture when she’d misbehaved.

“Okay, let’s get your coat”

“Chris, I don’t need you. I can go on my own, I live across the hall” you pointed and he rose his eyebrows.

“I’ll just walk you and make sure you’re okay”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine, super-duper fine”

“Okay” if he had known something it was that he’d never should argue with someone drunk. “I’ll just help you with your purse”

“Yeah” you agreed.

He helped you to pick up your coat and as he had told you, he had your purse.

“I don’t get it” you spoke out of the blues.

“What?”

“You’re just so good and nice and then you’re a jerk with me. You come here and then play your stupid Hollywood act. I don’t like it, I don’t like you.” You stopped and pointed at his chest.

“What?”

“Yeah! You come here and it’s funny, like hilarious because Scott adores you and so does Luca and they tell me the most amazing things about you and then” you stopped and looked right through his eyes, you felt absolutely exposed but brave to throw the next words “and then you’re not the crush I thought I had” you smile and sigh.

Chris can barely breathe. His hands are sweaty, his mind has just blown. He’s an actor. He’s done plenty of movies were the adrenaline goes from 0 to 100 in a sec. but this, this is just so different.

“I said you were my… crush, until I met you and” you were about to cry, you lean your head back to hold the tears. “I’m definitely drunk”

“Y/n”

“Don’t say anything, I just want to go home, dude. Just let it go, it’s amazing just to say it, like, I feel free and… sad, and” you weren’t able to finish when you threw up on his top designer shoes.

After that. Everything was a blur.

___________

Fucking light.

Fucking sun.

Fucking hangover.

Fucking Chris.

You were on your bed, it was after noon and you were just opening your eyes. You buried yourself on the covers. You felt awful.

You had a note and a pharmacy bag on your night stand.

“Thank you for ruin Chris’s favorite shoes. S”

“What did I do?” you asked to yourself. You woke up, dud part of your usual routine and called Scott. He didn’t pick up.

After two hours of feeling sick, horrible and guilty as fuck, you decided to apologize to Chris and ask what had happened.

The moment you opened the door was like flashbacks.

You pressed the doorbell and Scott showed up.

“I’m sorry” you murmured covering your face.

“No, it’s okay, darling… but I think you should talk to Chris”

“Why? Did he tell you anything?” he nodded. “Tell me”

“No, it’s time you two talk”

“But I don’t want to” you made puppy face and he grabbed your waist. “I feel like I did something horrible. You used my key to get me sober somehow and I don’t even remember”

“Nothing bad happened, I promise, but you’ll feel better if you hear it from him” he closed the door behind you.

“Fine, where is him?” you asked.

“He’s on the living room”

Every step you took felt like you were about to jump on a cliff of hell. It felt like you were about to burn. You saw him playing with Luca, the little kid ran towards you and hugged your legs.

“Hey, love” you hugged him back. Unable to look at Chris.

“Come on, Luca, let’s leave them alone”

You sighed and tried to walk towards him but your feet were now drilled on the floor.

“so, I’m sorry, I don’t remember much, but I think I insulted you and called you names and I think I threw up and…”

“you only remember the bad parts, huh?” he stood in front of you, you looked at him. he looked different.

“You did call me names, you did threw up and you called me your crush”

“I did what?” you replied. Why? Why? Why?

“yeah, you told me a nice story, I was holding your hair while you threw up on the toilet.”

“What did I tell you” you walked away, to try to keep your distance, he respected that and started talking.

“You told me that the first time we met you almost met and then you froze by how asshole I was. And you were right I was a jerk, I guess I was trying to impress you but… I don’t know. And then you told me you even had imagined our first kiss. Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah”

“What if we had everything for that to happen? What if we start all over?” you turn around to see him under a mistletoe he was holding above his head.

“Chris…”

“You’ve been my forever crush, y/n. but now I’m madly, crazy, deeply in love with you”

You walked towards him and crossed your arms around his neck, he leaned to kiss you. He remembered it, the stupid kiss under the mistletoe.

His lips were sweet and delicate. That kiss was like a Hollywood kiss, just perfect. He compass of his lips on yours. You two slowly split.

“You still owe me a pair of shoes”

“Shut up” he leaned to kiss you again.

#chris evans one shot #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans shot #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic

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poerebel · 5 years

Text

I’ve Had Enough

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cheating, Swearing, Angst

Prompt: “I’ve had enough.”

Summary: You and Chris get into a huge fight that eventually leads to both of you breaking up.

A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing any fanfiction or one-shot so I’m sorry if this isn’t good enough. I really tried my best because I wanna participate in Emily’s (@my-emotional-self) writing challenge to celebrate her reaching 5k followers! All comments, suggestions, and criticisms are welcome. And who knows, maybe I’ll write another one-shot again in the future. I may have gotten a little too carried away, but the word count is 3389 or something hehe.

__________________________________

It was at a Vanity Fair party four years ago when you first met Chris. Your childhood best friend, Elizabeth Olsen, brought you along as her plus 1 because she was tired of the Hollywood bullshit where most of the people are fake, so she opted to bring you to see for yourself what the Hollywood life she’s talking about really is. It wasn’t until the Avengers: Age of Ultron after-party that you and Chris actually got to talk to each other.

“Lizzie, why did you bother bringing me here? You know how I feel about these parties.” You said as Lizzie grabbed your hand and bring you towards the bar. “Two Margaritas, please.” She orders as you both sit on the stool. “Well, I needed to do something to get you out of the house. You can’t be sulking in forever.” She had that ‘duh’ face on and you just shook your head at her.

“Besides, it’s the first time in weeks that I even saw you shower.” She added as you rolled your eyes at her dramatic antics. Lizzie tends to be a drama queen ever since you were little. No wonder she became an actor.

“Shut up. We both know you just want me here so you can have someone to make fun of other people with.” She gave you a look and you both laughed at what you said.

“I have no idea about what you’re talking about.” She sarcastically denies as you both took a sip of your margaritas and continue to laugh. Suddenly a booming voice called her name and you both looked at that direction.

“Lizzie!”

“Chris!” She calls back as the guy practically runs over to where you were and hugs Lizzie. While the two of them continue to catch up, you were left to drink your Margarita all alone. You were lost in your train of thoughts when you hear Lizzie call out your name.

“Chris, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Chris.” Lizzie says as she introduced you to each other. You extended your hand but Chris brought you into a hug. “Sorry, I’m a hugger.” You laughed awkwardly and let Lizzie do the talking for the rest of the night. You didn’t think much of him yet since you just got out of a 5-year relationship. Besides, he might be one of those actors who thinks so highly of himself and is a total douche.

Three months after the Vanity Fair party was the Avengers: Age of Ultron premiere and after-party. Lizzie introduced you to pretty much all of her co-stars, and you didn’t care much but meeting Robert Downey Jr. is where you draw the line.

“Oh my god, Lizzie! I can’t believe I met Robert fucking Downey Jr!” You squealed when Robert was out of sight. You couldn't stop moving, you were so happy you met Robert.

“I know I’m so happy for you!” She says as she puts both her hands on your sides and tries to calm you down.

“And we’re at his house! For the after-party! I can’t believe it!” You continued to squeal as Lizzie laughs at you. “You should always bring me to these kinds of party.” You say as you grab her hand and skip towards the bar.

“And what kind of party is that?” Lizzie asks as she smiles at you.

“A Robert Downey Jr kind of party, duh.” You say as you both laugh aloud.

Eventually, at the party, Lizzie got crowded by a lot of people wanting to congratulate her on the success of the movie, so you decided to get your drink first and let Lizzie do her thing.

“One Margarita please.” You tell the bartender as you sit on the stool and bring out your phone to check up on your messages. Not really texting anyone but hoping that a particular someone will message you. It’s dumb, you know. It’s been 3 months, but you can’t help but hold out to hope.

“Y/n, right?” Suddenly a familiar voice brought you out of your trance. You looked up from your phone and saw Chris. “You sure do like Margaritas, huh?” He added as you just smiled at him.

“So, what are you doing here all alone?” Chris asked as he had his eyebrow raised. “Lizzie’s being crowded by people, so I decided to get a drink and just sit and try to take in all of what’s happening.” You shrugged and then took a sip of your Margarita.

“Congratulations on the movie, by the way.” You tell Chris as you raise your glass to him.

“Thanks! What did you think of the movie?”

“I’m not a comic book fan, but I really enjoyed it. Great job.” You put your two thumbs up together and Chris laughed.

“No, really. What did you think of it?” he insisted.

“I really liked how the team worked together and I loved how Captain America lead the whole Avengers.” you replied.

He had this smug look on his face so you decided to tease. “But Iron Man is still my favorite.” He laughed so loud that he even put his hand on his chest and he almost fell back. He had a hearty laugh, and you found yourself smiling for no reason.

“Speaking of the movie, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be entertaining your guests? I’m sure they’re dying to hold a conversation with you.” You say as you gesture to the roomful of people. Funnily enough, an unfamiliar face showed up to congratulate him about the success of the movie. So you went back to drinking your Margarita and using your phone.

After a few minutes, you were scrolling through your Instagram when a voice startled you, “What’s with your phone? Why are you so busy with it?” You looked up and saw Chris looking at you with a puzzled face.

“I don’t really know anyone here except Lizzie.” You trailed off. “Hey! You know me.” He said with a hurt look. “Oh do I now?” You teased and he laughed again.

You spent the rest of the night talking to each other, casually making jokes here and there. You didn’t seem to mind since you enjoyed his company. You don’t know why Chris chose to talk to you instead of basking in the glory of fame and success, but that’s Chris; he never chose to value such trivial things. As your conversation went on, you found out how much he adores his dog and how much he hated being away from his family.

A party’s not the ideal place to connect with someone but things happened, and you don’t find yourself questioning that night further.

______________________

You were already in bed, staring at the ceiling because you couldn’t fall asleep not knowing what’s happening to Chris. You’ve texted him multiple times but he hasn’t replied to any of those. You started to worry about him and think of all the worst things that could happen, thanks to your anxiety.

You hear the door open and heard shuffling. "Must be Chris." You mutter to yourself as you made your way to the living room. There he is, Chris, on the couch, drunk again. He and the boys went out to celebrate the last day of filming for his upcoming movie.

You walked towards him and noticed he had kiss marks on his neck and shirt. You got taken aback by what you saw and couldn’t even distinguish what you’re feeling right now. You just know that you have to clean and take care of Chris.

"Chris," You said as you lightly tap his face, trying to wake him up. “Chris,” You say again as you try to help him up sit on the couch. You walk towards the kitchen and grab him a glass of water and an Advil. “Chris, wake up.” You lightly tapped on his face again as you try to make him drink water. He opened his eyes and downed it all in one big gulp.

Ever since being back in Boston to film for his upcoming projects, he had been out lately with his friends, going out almost every night. Thank God Scott was also here and he would go with Chris at night. He would usually text you updates about what’s going on, so you don’t really worry about Chris going out. What you worry about, however, is his excessive drinking and the girls that throw themselves at him. It wasn’t until one night when Scott texted that he saw Chris making out with a girl. When you found out, you were sure you’re going to leave Chris, you swore to yourself you were never going to tolerate cheating again, not after what your ex did.

But when he came home, you became conflicted. A part of you wanted to leave him for what he did, while another part of you wanted to stay because of all the good things you’ve done together and because you didn’t want to waste your 3-year relationship.

"We need to talk." You told him, as you looked him straight into his eyes, looking for the Chris you know. You’ve been holding off this conversation, but in his drunken state, you realized that you’ve had enough.

"Not now, y/n." He said as he massaged his temples. He reeked of beer, his hair was all over the place, and his clothes were a mess. He avoided looking in your eyes, and it only made your heartache.

"We really need to talk, Chris." You said once again as calmly as possible. You were starting to get pissed with what he’s doing.

"I said not now, y/n." He said through gritted teeth. By now you were starting to lose your patience. This conversation has been long overdue.

“If not now, then when Chris?” You asked as you look him straight into the eyes.

“Just not now, y/n! I’ve had too much to drink!” He raised his voice at you and it made you jump back. He has never raised his voice at you in your 3 years of being in a relationship, not even once, so his sudden reaction startled you.

“That’s the exact reason why we need to talk, Chris! Your drinking has been a problem!” He scoffed at your words and he rolled his eyes. His attention was somewhere else. He clearly didn’t want to have this conversation right now.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to bring it up. “When are you going to tell me that you've been cheating on me?" You raised your voice a little as you looked at him.

He whipped his head to face you, “Cheating on YOU?” He said, eyes wide, definitely in shock at what you just said.

“Yeah! Scott told me everything. He told me he saw you making out with someone,” You looked at his neck and shirt and saw the kiss marks again. “And judging by the kiss marks on your neck, I don’t think he was lying.”

“You’re believing Scott’s bullshit? Really, y/n? Really?” He shook his head as he clenched his jaw.

“Yes, I believe him! He’s your goddamn brother, for christ’s sake! He’s only looking out for you, Chris!”

“Why do you to need to look out for me? I’m a grown-up man, I can do whatever I want!” He stood up and he was now towering over you.

You stood up and look him in the eye, “Is that really a question?”

"Bullshit, y/n! You’re acting like an overly attached girlfriend!” He screamed as he turned his back on you.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! I can’t believe you just said that to me! What the fuck, Chris!” By now you were fuming with anger. How dare he say that to you. He turned to look at you and you stared back at him.

“I’ve been holding off what I felt for such a long time because I wanted to give you time, I thought that you’d maybe come around. You know damn well that I’ve been in this position before and you promised you wouldn’t do such a thing. But now, look at where we are.“ You say as you throw your hands in the air. When you opened up about your ex to Chris, he told you that he would never do that to you, that you would never experience being hurt by him.

“And whose fault is that?” His eyes narrowed at you as you look at him with wide eyes.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“You never have time for me anymore.” You were about to respond but he cut you off.

“I used to look forward waking up in the morning because I know you’d be there right beside me, but now I wake up to a bed all by myself because you already left for work. And then when you get home from work, you’d be tired and just go directly back to bed. Didn’t you ever think that I needed your presence as well? That I needed your attention? Why do you think I always hang out with the boys every night? Now that I’ve finished my projects, I’m left all alone in this house by myself.” Chris said, his eyes glaring at you. Your heart clenched inside, it felt like Chris was ripping your heart out from your chest. You never knew he felt that way.

Tears were starting to form in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you! But whenever I wanted to talk, you’d always brush me off and you’d go directly to bed because you say you’re tired.” You both stood there, staring at each another, tension filling the air.

“Ok. You want my attention? I’ll give it to you. You have it right now.” Chris just looked at you as you waited for him to say anything.

“Why aren’t you talking?” Chris stayed silent as he stared at you.

“Do you think you’re the only one who has a career to maintain? Just because I’m not a hotshot actor, you think my job is not that important?” Tears were now falling from your eyes.

“I never said that.” Chris just put his hands across his chest and stared at you.

“It pains me to leave you all alone in the house all day, but I have a job and I have to work hard because I have dreams.” More tears started rolling from your eyes. You can’t stop it. You feel like your dreams for yourself are getting in the way of you both.

Chris stayed silent, but he was fixated at your hands. Your anger was boiling through you. You had your hands clenched in a fist, so tight that you felt your nails digging through your palms.

“Here we go again with your insecurities,” Chris said as he rolled his eyes. Your mouth dropped open, as you couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth.

“Insecurities?” You asked all confused, raising your voice a little. You stared at him as you wonder where this is all coming from.

“You always talk about wanting to be successful, but can’t you do it without trashing what I do for a living? You always find a way to invalidate my passion.” Chris said as he threw his hands in the air and the look of disappointment is evident on his face. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You didn’t know that this was affecting Chris as much as it affected you. You never thought it would be possible since Chris never said anything about it.

“If you had problems with this bullshit in the first place, then you shouldn’t have chosen to be with me.” Chris pointed out. You felt your heart shatter with his last words. Your heart was physically aching and you felt like you were losing air.

"It’s because I care for you! I can’t leave, because I love you." Your voice broke, barely whispering the last words.

His eyes narrowed at you as he continues to have his arms across his chest, “So you admit it. You want to leave?” You looked into his eyes and all you could see was disappointment.

“I did, a lot of times.” Chris scoffed at your words. “So many nights have passed where you come home wasted, and I couldn’t even talk to you about my day. But, every morning when I wake up to your face and see the Chris that I fell in love with, I’d eventually forget about wanting to leave you. You’d engulf me in a hug, all freshened up, and I wish I could stay there longer because it was you. But then you’d get up so quickly to go back to work. Where does that leave me?”

“I would rely on those mornings because I was hoping you’d come back, not just in the morning, but every fucking waking moment of my life. Because honestly what the fuck is this?” You gestured to the both of you as you shake your head.

“Then leave.” Chris said in a monotonous voice as he continued to stare at you.

It took you a few moments to register what came out of his mouth. He wanted you to leave. You were prepared for this moment to happen, but still, nothing could stop the physical pain in your chest. You wanted to move but your body was frozen in shock.

You stared at Chris, waiting for him to take back what he said, but he didn’t seem to change his stance so you walked towards your shared room and grabbed your suitcase, filling it with your clothes from the closet. You didn’t even bother arranging your clothes in your suitcase, you just recklessly dumped your clothes inside.

You stood up, ready to leave. As you were on the way out, you saw a picture hanging on the wall. It was your favorite picture of you and Chris, he was the one taking the picture as you kissed his cheek in the middle of Times Square. You couldn’t help but smile at the memories it brought back.

With one final look at the room you’ve shared for almost two years, you finally made your way out to the living room. Chris was still there, his head was down as he fidgeted with his hands. He looked up when he heard the door close and he saw you with your suitcase. He stared at you and you looked back at him as you make your way into the living room.

As you were on your way to the door, you hear him say, "Where are you going?" You looked at him and said, "I’m leaving." in a monotonous voice. You continued to walk straight towards the door, not even looking back when suddenly you feel two strong arms engulf you in a hug.

“Please, don’t.” You hear his voice break as he hugs you tighter. “Chris, stop.” You say as you try to pry away from him. You then hear him sniffling and feel his tears soak the back of your shirt. “Chris,” you trailed off as you try to remove his hands from your waist. You couldn’t help but let your tears fall as you try to break free from Chris.

You couldn’t take it anymore, “Chris, enough!” You scream making him startled and let go of you. You turned around and looked at him. What you saw was possibly the most painful thing you’ve ever seen. Chris’s face was full of tears and all you could see in his eyes were sadness and pain.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him as you wipe his tears with your thumb.

You grabbed your suitcase and made your way to the door. "Are you really doing this?" He asked as he followed you behind.

“I’ve had enough, Chris.” You looked back at him and all you could see were pain in his eyes. You wanted to stay, and just be with him again, to never leave him.

"It’s what’s best for us, please try to understand.“ You told him as you grab a hold of your suitcase. You walked out the door and you heard footsteps follow you outside. As you go to your car, you see Chris standing at the doorframe. Before you went in your car, you gave Chris one final look. You gave him a half-smile and you see his eyes still with tears, pleading for you to stay.

You go in and start your car. You don’t even know where you’d go and who’d be awake at this hour. While you drive away from the house, you look at the rearview mirror and see Chris, now sitting on your porch, his hands were on his face. It pained you to do this and see him like this, but you know that it would be for the better.

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