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bagopucks · 1 year

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J. Hughes - It’s Out There

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Jack Hughes x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: a bit of ass grabbing💕, talk of ED, general angst (not proofread)

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The horror stories weren’t exactly true, but they also weren’t far off. College is what one makes of it. That I learned early on. I kept up with the work, I built a steady routine, I put forth my best effort. Things so far had been fine. I had enough time for my major and my life.

Taylor on the other hand.. she wanted to party. I loved her. I truly did, but sometimes her complaining stressed me out. We were roommates, and I always offered my best advice and a helping hand when she needed it. But she never put forth her own effort. Jack often heard about her when I needed time to complain.

Today though, I had gotten her to sit down with me and study. I promised breaks here and there, and even a late dinner. We’d both missed out on lunch for finals, neither of us were exactly hungry considering the stress. We were in need of food. But more importantly, we were in need of better help.

I managed well with our other classes we had together. I let her copy my notes and we discussed and reviewed, but when it came to math, we were both scattered.

So we decided to take a brief break.

I leaned back against the wall, sitting on my bed, while Taylor mirrored me from her own bed. I texted Jack, while she no doubt scrolled through social media.

I enjoyed the silence. Not interrupted or broken by anything but the quiet flow of air through the AC in the room. Occasionally Taylor would send me something on Instagram, and our silence shifted into both of us scrolling through our social media apps and sending each other things.

I sent her a video of a French bulldog, I received a post in return that I couldn’t quite make out from the small notification. So I opened it.

“Jack Hughes Finally Off The Market?”

It wasn’t anything more than one of those meme pages, but the photo of Jack and I kissing at his favorite cafe in the city- that was what caught me off guard. I felt my stomach turn, my entire being feeling like it fell through the floor.

It had been pitch black that night. Nobody had even been on that street when we came out. How did somebody get a photo?

“Tay,” I glanced at the likes. There were enough to make me nauseous. I decided to check the comments, hopeful that perhaps somebody would point out how it was a joke. I knew that was unlikely though.

“Where’d you find this?” Fear gripped my heart as I read through comments.

‘Can’t see her face :|’

‘Great content bud’

‘Fuck her’

‘Don’t worry guys, it’s me’

‘Hands couldn’t even fit around that ass’

‘I’ll bet she’s pretty’

A different degree of reactions all around. My gaze remained on some longer than others.

“Just on Instagram. Since you started dating Jack I just.. I don’t know, guess I started keeping up with the hockey stuff.”

Taylor looked up at me, and I looked up at her. I was pale, she looked careless.

“Hun.. I wouldn’t worry. It’s a meme page. Nobody takes their stuff seriously.”

Taylor had a point, but at the end of the day.. that was still a photo of me and Jack. Whether people believed it or not, to me, that was very clearly, me and Jack.

“Why don’t we skip the next break and get back to studying.. okay?”

I was reluctant to agree, but Taylor eventually pried my attention away from my phone. Or at least she thought she did.

The rest of our night was spent studying. We had gone out to grab something to eat from the nearest fast food place, and ate together watching the hockey team of my hometown city play. The Devils didn’t have a game scheduled for a few days, so I took it as an opportunity to check up on my other team of interest.

After the hockey game, we had both called it a night. With the lights out, and the only sound being the occasional thump of footsteps or somebody in a room around us, my mind wandered. It wandered to the point that I had grabbed my phone again to check for any news.

Nothing.

The internet still seemed oblivious.

I went back to the post to look at it. There were more comments and likes, but nobody had considered it a real possibility yet.

I spent hours awake, staring at the screen, turning it off only to give in and turn it back on, waiting for my entire world to crumble around me.

I fell asleep somewhere around four am.

When I woke up, I forced myself away from my phone to focus on my last final. I told Jack that I would visit him after it was completed and I was off for spring break. I had that to look forward to, but every time I thought of Jack, I thought of that post. So I pushed it to the back of my mind as I entered my professor’s classroom and set my phone by others on the front desk.

I’d attest to the fact that my mind wandered a few times, but I would also say I thought the exam went well. Taylor promised to meet me in the mess hall when we were both done.

I stepped out of the classroom and flipped my phone in my hand. With spring break beginning officially for me, I only had one other thing to stress about.

Opening my Instagram was like stepping into a whole new world. I followed the Devils, the NHL page, ESPN, and a few others. Mostly just for news on Jack when it came out. But this time, the news about Jack made me sick.

I slowed to a halt in the hallway, before my body went into autopilot.

The first post in front of me was the New Jersey Devil holding a bottle of champagne in a photo. The caption was a mess of words in my head. A congratulations.. with my account tagged.

I forced myself to lower my phone as I jogged through the halls and out the first exit I found.

When I got outside, my pace slowed, and I lifted my phone again.

I opened the Devils story first. Another congratulations post to Jack.. and me. My name. Next to Jack’s. Something the media team was no doubt doing to try and poke fun at the situation. It was all in good fun for them. I could understand, but at the same time it made me want to throw up. They hadn’t even spoken to Jack or me. They didn’t even ask if we wanted to remain private. Instead they simply confirmed everything. As the story played through, the next one for the NHL opened. It was a repost, with a message that said, ‘welcome to the NHL WAGS FAM.’ With my account tagged.

I could not imagine the page doing it for another player, but this was Jack Hughes. This was one of their most followed guys in the league. They’d cover every moment of his life if it meant more money and a bigger following.

ESPN had a more formal address on the topic, but it was still about Jack and I nonetheless.

I blacked out. I blacked out so hard that I barely even noticed I was in my dorm until I heard the door click shut behind me. Panic was the only thing I had really felt before. Until I looked at the posts. The posts, then the comments.

There were a select few who congratulated, but the majority? The huge crowds? They hated me. It made a sense of dread bubble up in my throat, until a quiet cry escaped. Girls insulted me in every photo posted, guys asked why Jack went after me, some even said I was nothing but a distraction. People made fun of me for being a secret, they tore me down for not setting my life aside to follow him and his hockey dreams.

How did they even know about my life so quickly? How did they know where I went to college?

I made a split second decision. I grabbed a duffel bag from my closet and began to throw clothing inside. I was certain that I had forgotten things along the way, but there was nothing a quick visit to the convenience store couldn’t fix. I put my laptop in the bag, as well as various chargers I hadn’t bothered to ravel up.

I was panicked, and the one person I wanted to see was an hour away. Taylor called me a few times while my phone laid on my bed, but I hadn’t called her back until I was out of my dorm room and headed for the car.

“Hey! We were supposed to meet up.” Taylor’s voice called through the phone. I sniffed quietly. I hadn’t begun crying yet, but my nose was running nonetheless.

“I have to go into New Jersey early.” I spoke through a shaky voice. I tossed my bag into the back seat of my car before climbing into the front. I was quick to turn the vehicle on, and Taylor’s voice cut out as my phone Bluetooth connected to the car.

“Is it bec- of that post?”

“Jack and I are out. All of the sports media has confirmed it. Tay, I don’t know what to do.” I backed out of my spot before I tore out of the parking lot.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m sure Jack will have it handled.”

“Jack?” I asked. Incredulous. “I love Jack, but I highly doubt he’ll have any of this shit handled.” He’d never been through it before. We were both amateurs at this, and now we were sinking together. I needed him. I assumed he needed me.

“Okay well.. I’m sure everybody’s happy for you guys.. yeah?”

“No! No, they’re not! They keep commenting on how shitty I am! And in that post last night, everybody was all over my ass! My ass!” My loss and hopelessness caused me to get choked up.

I’d always had a rough relationship with food ever since I was a teenager. People told me I was too skinny or too big. People told me that being insecure because I was skinny didn’t count. They invalidated my feelings while at the same time telling me my ass wasn’t big enough, or my cup size was awfully small. Then others would come back and say my ass was too big or my boobs might be distracting.

Depending on the comments, some days I ate, others I did not.

When I met Jack, I was healthier than before, but I still struggled. He always reassured me. Told me I was beautiful. That he loved me, thought I was perfect, and that gaining or losing a couple pounds meant nothing as long as I was healthy.

He made me feel safe eating huge greasy burgers and shoveling cake into my mouth on a Friday movie night. Likewise, he validated my feelings when all I wanted was a chicken salad and maybe a piece of bread or two. He always said, ‘as long as you’re healthy.’ And every once in a while he made sure I wasn’t hungry either. Especially after I ate salads. After he’d seen me put away pretty nice sized meals, he always made sure I had enough to eat. And that I was comfort able enough to eat.

It was amazing how a few social media comments could tear down so many walls I’d built, but it was deeper than that to me. These were Jack’s fans. If they didn’t like me, then why should he? Had he been lying to me all this time?

“Your beautiful ass?” Taylor tried to make a joke. A tear finally fell down my cheek.

“What if Jack hates me?” My bottom lip quivered. “He hasn’t reached out.. what if he’s breaking up with me?” The mere thought made me want to pull over and turn around.

“What is he doing today?” Taylor asked expectantly. I had to think about it.

“Media stuff?” The thought brought a moment of relief to my lungs.

“Exactly. You’ve had days before where he doesn’t text until late in the evening and it’s never bothered you.” Taylor’s voice gave me the encouragement to continue on.

“I know this didn’t happen in time like you guys planned it, but it’s all going to be fine. The crazy fan girls will always be mean, but people are going to get over it.”

“Yeah.. but what if they hate me forever?”

“They might. But oh well, right?”

Taylor was right. But that still didn’t make me feel any better. I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“When does Jack get home?”

“I think.. I don’t know? Maybe around three?” I breathed out a sigh.

“So you’ll be there before him?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you go see him at the arena?”

“And bother him? After all this?”

“If it’s a media day, you know he won’t be that busy. And it’s better than torturing yourself at his place for hours.”

She was right.

“I’ll have to think about it..”

“Don’t think too much.”

As if I hadn’t been overthinking everything that day already. Our conversation ended with mutual good lucks, and the familiar monotone beep of a dead line. I sighed, wiped the tears from my cheeks, and focused on the road ahead.

My hour in the car was spent flipping through radio stations, trying to find music that was loud enough to distract me or soft enough to calm me. Nothing worked. My jaw was clenched most if not the entire time. My face hurt. My cheeks hurt. My fingers felt stiff every time I pulled a hand from the wheel.

And entering Jersey didn’t help. It felt like a smack upside the head. A loud call back to my horrible reality. I felt like everybody outside the car was staring in. Everybody knew who I was. Everybody hated me. They were all looking at my body.

By the time I had pulled into Jack’s own apartment community, I felt like I was suffocating trying to choke back tears. I parked in the lot outside of his complex. I gave it five minutes. Then another five. Then another five.

I grabbed my phone and opened TikTok this time. I typed Jack’s name into the search and hit enter. The first video eased my mind. Somebody saying how beautiful I was.. how happy they were for Jack.

The next broke my heart. Comparing me to the first girl. To the hot girl. The skinny girl. The perfect girl. I’d seen videos here and there before of people saying how they thought Jack and his ex had been such a beautiful couple. People said they ‘missed’ her. Like they ‘knew’ her. I never let it cut too deep, because they didn’t know I existed.

Now it was blatant. Now they said things like that, because she was better than me.

I put my car in reverse.

Taylor was right. I’d torture myself if I didn’t see Jack.

Closing the distance between myself and the arena was like beating a new nail into my coffin with each mile. It only stressed me out more. But I hoped Jack would take it all off my shoulders. If he had time.

The thought that he’d be too busy also occurred to me, but even being in the same building as him, I decided, would be soothing.

I had pulled into the private parking area before climbing out of my car. My face was red, but I had since stopped the tears. My heart was set on Jack. Nothing else could distract me.

I walked through the double doors at the bottom, stepping right into one of the many entrances. I was quick to find the hall that led to the private facilities. I walked past maintenance closets, and equipment rooms, before my swift pace was brought to an abrupt halt by a body stepping out of the lounge.

I gasped. He grabbed me by the shoulders. When I looked up, my eyes caught Jesper. His gaze softened from surprise to sympathy. We stared at each other, both uncertain of what to say. He spoke first.

“Jack was worried when you didn’t text him that your final was over.” He spoke, as if having an ‘A-ha’ moment. He let me go. I reached to rub my eyes again, fearful that something was still there.

“He didn’t text me all day.” I countered.

“Well.. he didn’t want to distract you. They won’t stop asking him about you.” My brow furrowed in question.

“He’s in with reporters right now.” Jesper gestured down the hall. I assumed he meant Jack was in the locker room. “They won’t let you go.” Tears welled up in my eyes again.

“We can wait for him together?” I nodded.

Jesper walked me into the lounge and grabbed me a bottle of water.

“I was shocked when it came out.. I know you and Jack were trying really hard not to be public.” Jesper sat down on the couch, and patted the empty cushion next to him. I sat beside him as he handed me the bottle of water.

“I shouldn’t have kissed him that night we went out.” I breathed out, shaking my head. I unscrewed the bottle cap and took a sip of the liquid. It helped refresh my dry throat.

“Can’t limit your happiness to closed doors.” Jesper had a point, but if I had limited my happiness to closed doors, I wouldn’t be miserable right now.

“Bratter?” My head shot in the direction of the door at the sound of a Swiss accent. I raised a brow at Nico in the doorway, dressed in a sweater covered in a colorful floral pattern. Nico looked right back at me, staring me down with that, ‘stays between us’ kind of expression.

“What the hell are they making you do in there?” Jesper asked, slinging an arm over the back of the couch.

“Some spring skit.. I don’t know. I acted really bad so they wouldn’t use me for it.” Nico quickly peeled the sweater off. “Your turn.” He stepped into the room and tossed the sweater at Jesper.

The blonde looked rather displeased, but he swiftly grabbed the sweater and stood up.

“You sit with her and wait for Jack then.. okay?” Nico and Jesper exchanged looks before the Swiss man nodded, then the Swede left the room.

“So,” Nico turned back to me. He fixed his hair, pursing his lips. “Jack’s pretty tense.” He plopped down on the couch next to me, my body jolting slightly at the way the sofa bounced. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit, Nico.” I glared at him. He was trying his best.

“Right… everything’ll iron out.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “You wanna play chess while we wait?” I glared at him once again. How could a man so thoughtful like Nico be so… lost when it came to this stuff? Because he’s been single for far too long. Jack always tried setting him up, but Nico was never interested. Said there were too many cultural differences.

“I have air hockey on here too.” He gave me that dumb lopsided smile. That smile that I always rolled my eyes at. Now I just wanted to wipe it off his face and tell him he was no help. But I gave in. I needed a distraction. I pulled my legs up onto the couch and turned my body to face Nico. He opened the game and set his phone down between us.

He started the game. I was better than him at it.

“People being mean to you?”

“You have no idea.”

“I checked some of the comments on the Devils post.” I glanced up at him before looking back down at the phone.

“It’s not good.” I shrugged.

“People make fun of my eyebrows sometimes.” I looked back up at him. Nico looked sincere, yet his eyes were still focused on the phone. I had to look back down. If he scored, it would only interrupt the flow of our conversation.

“Kids used to do it a lot in school. I used to ask my sister to fix them for me.” Somehow, the idea of a tiny Nico asking to have his brows waxed was amusing, but I held in my laughter for the sake of his ego. “Kids called me angry birds. I didn’t know what it meant for the longest time. But I knew I just hated my eyebrows.”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but it felt great to be understood nonetheless.

“Now everybody’s calling you a bunch of things, and I know it’s hard. But I’d suggest listening to what the people who love you say. They know better than anybody else.”

I scored on Nico. We both looked up at each other, and I offered him a sad smile.

“Means the world to hear, Nic. Sorry for calling you the Eagle from the muppets.”

His brows knit together in confusion. But I didn’t have time to explain the subtle joke before we both heard quiet complaining in the hall. Jack’s ever gentle voice laced with tension and stress. Maybe even shaking.

“Where’s Nico?”

“God- I just wanna talk to Nico!”

I quickly stood up and took the bottle of water with me as I stepped out into the hall. Jack was gone. My gaze flickered about until he emerged from a room, he must have been on a pretty aggressive hunt for his captain. Jack stopped though when he spotted me. The emotions returned. He looked as stressed as I’d felt before. Now I only felt overwhelmed and sad.

“Babe?” Jack slowly made his way down the hall to meet me by the lounge door. He was gentle when he pulled me into a hug, dipping his head to rest against my shoulder while I wrapped my arms around his neck, careful not to spill my water.

“It’s all gone to shit.” I whispered.

“I’m so sorry..” Jack mumbled in response. Neither of us could have been prepared for this. And it wasn’t either of our faults.

“Jack don’t apologize.” I pulled back, feeling the familiar sting of tears in my eyes.

“I’m done for the day.. I got done early. Let’s just go home.. please.” He sounded as desperate to get out of there as I was to get to him. I nodded.

——————

Jack drove us back to his apartment. I didn’t care enough about my car to be away from him for too long, but I had grabbed my bag. He let me inside before himself, but we never left each other’s eyesight. The second Jack pushed the door shut, his arms were around me. I reached a hand up to hold the back of his head, my other hand resting overtop of his own that lay on my stomach.

“They asked me so many things about you.” Jack mumbled.

“Jack.. baby.. you don’t think..” was now even the time to bring it up? I sighed. “I’m not too big for you.. am I? Or too small? Or too anything?”

Jack pressed a kiss to my shoulder.

“You’re just right. You always have been. Always will be.” He slowly pulled away to walk around in front of me. “Are they saying stuff about your body?” He looked so disgusted by the fact, but Jack was more worldly innocent than one might assume. He never wanted to expect the worst from others.

“I guess so..” I shrugged, rubbing one of my arms. My body language said enough. He could always tell when I was uncomfortable.

“You shouldn’t look.” Jack reached out to rest his hands on my upper arms.

“I know that, Jack. I just- I guess I just wanted them to like me.” I looked down.

“Hey, hey.” Jack moved one of his hands to rest his fingers beneath my chin, tilting my head up. “They will. They’re gonna love you.” His brow furrowed as his eyes searched for my own. But I still couldn’t be bothered to make eye contact. “Babe.. babe look at me.” He wasn’t demanding. He was gentle. Encouraging. He was always so kind to me. Even his behavior in this moment brought tears to my eyes. I looked at him though, and I watched his heart break in slow motion. I watched his eyes grow solemn.

“It’ll just take time. Just give it time.” Jack pulled me into another hug, his arms wrapped tightly around my body as one hand laid between my shoulder blades and the other pressed into the small of my back. I buried my face in his chest. I wanted nothing more than to go back to the day before, when nobody knew about me. When I was just me.. just a university student.

“Jack,” I whispered into his chest. I slowly lifted my head. He looked down at me. His expression showed nothing but devotion. He was ready to pull the stars from the sky if I said the word. “We’ll be with each other through this.. right?”

“Stay with me through spring break…” the offer was a surprise, but one I wasn’t opposed to. We both needed each other, and time away from my college campus was never a bad thing.

“I think I can do that.” I sniffled as I slipped my hands between our bodies, resting them on his chest. Being in his arms was the most comforting thing in the world. Going through this whole ordeal seemed a lot less stressful when I knew it would be spent with him.

“I love you.” Jack whispered, a grin forming on his lips as his hands wandered to my hips, only to eventually find my backside. I jumped at the feeling. “I want you to love yourself too. Please don’t let people convince you you’re not perfect.” Jack’s words were easier said than done.

“I wish you’d just see yourself the way I saw you.. god you’re such an Angel to me.” He pressed a kiss to my head. My heart fluttered as my temperature rose. “They’ll see you that way one day too.” Those promises were debatable, but believing them made me relax. Maybe if I just lived in Jack’s world for a little while.. his positive reality, it would be better in the long run.

Despite the fact that we still had hours left in the day, neither of us seemed too interested in going anywhere or doing anything. Jack and I ended up in bed together. We both had the bare minimum on.. bodies mark-less but heads full of love. I could still feel Jack’s lips pressed against each of my insecurities, and his hands massaging circles into my muscles. Likewise I swore I could still feel his skin beneath my hands. His silky hair between my fingers. Every dip and curve of his muscles committed to memory.

Jack kept me away from my phone in the most effective way.

Moments ago, lips had trailed my shoulders and my arms, down my chest and around my stomach and sides. He’d put the work in on my thighs too, so gentle and sweet. He never left a mark. It wasn’t that kind of night. His kisses were passionate, but not lustful. He was so full of love.. so heartfelt in each of his movements. Jack was one of a kind.

I laid, curled into his side, my head resting in the space between his arm and his chest, just beneath his shoulder.

“Ya know.. I saw a girl today say she missed your ex.” I spoke quietly, afraid to disturb the peace. But it was on my mind nonetheless.

Jack tensed. He shuffled, then picked his head up to look down at me.

“I don’t.” He scoffed. “She was horrible.”

I turned my head to look at him, but Jack rested his head against the pillow again before I could see his eyes.

“What was she like?”

“Nothing like you. She came around at a busy time.. right after the draft. I was too distracted to really pay attention to all the red flags. She was mean.”

“Does it bother you when people say they miss her?”

“It would if there was something to miss.” Jack moved his shoulders to shrug before halting when he realized my head was there. “It would be a different story If it was you.”

“What?”

“If it was you.. I’d miss you too. I was so worried you’d back out when you saw everything today. I didn’t want to lose you.. but by the time I could speak to anybody, our whole social team just put it out there.” Jack slowly turned onto his side, my head fell to the bed. He wrapped his arm around me and I quickly turned to mirror him.

“I would never leave over something like this. You mean too much to me.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page then.” The sound of my phone ringing from the floor had me slowly turning to get up, but I only got my back turned to Jack before he pulled me against his chest. I yelped out a laugh.

“Jack.” I reached to pry his hand from my stomach.

“No phones.. please?” I sighed. The chances of somebody actually needing me were slim, so I let the call go unanswered.

“Alright. You win baby.” I carefully rolled over, pulling his hand from my body and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Jack smiled. He loved a lot of things, but being pampered was one of his favorites. I pressed another kiss to the back of his hand, then one to his wrist, before playfully biting and kissing all the way up his arm. Kissing him everywhere just like he’d done to me before. Jack broke into a fit of giggles by the time I reached his forearm. After I got to his shoulder, I raised my lips to his own, pressing a much deeper kiss there to silence him.

When I pulled away, Jack’s baby blues eyed me. I kissed his jaw. “God.. they’re gonna love you so much.” He whispered, shaking his head. Astounded.

“They just don’t know you yet.. but they will.”

“As long as they don’t love me more than you do.”

“Nobody can love you more than I do.”

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#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl hockey #nico hischier #jesper bratt

675 notes · View notes

dominos-palast · 10 months

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Lessons on flirting

Fandom: XMen

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x fem!reader

Characters mentioned: Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Peter Maximoff

Used Pronouns: (she/her)

Warnings: none

Request: yes

Part: 1/3

A/N: I made an exception and did a fem!reader one since it was requested like that. I will eventually upload a gn!reader version

P.S.: I decided to split the request into 3 because I wanted to post something since it’s taking longer than promised :’)

Summary: Kurt has a crush on one of the best fighters in the institute, but doesn’t know how to approach the situation. Thank goodness that Peter and his friends are there to support him.

Word Count: 1k

“I did not get my ass whooped.” Scott walked between Jean and Kurt, trying to defend himself from Jean’s accusations.

“Of course not. How could you ever? We all know how strong the great Scott Summers is.” Scott would have felt flattered by such a response if it weren’t for the sarcasm behind her words.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep making fun of me. As if you had done it better,” he said eyeing the ice pack Jean pressed to her shoulder, only gaining a slight strong nudge on his bruised arm.

Kurt couldn’t help but snicker at their bickering. They had been on it since their last class. The topic had been self-defence. The catch: The use of powers was strictly prohibited. This type of class had become more frequent since the rumours of a new power suppressant circulating in the black market started. The professor wanted all students to be able to defend themselves, with and without powers.

“You sure can laugh,” Scott glanced at Kurt. “We aren’t allowed to use our powers, but you still can use your tail to fight.”

Kurt smiled proudly and swung his tail from side to side, mocking him even further.

“These classes are stupid. I have literal lasers for eyes. I can fry anyone even miles away from me. Why should I train in close combat if no one can get close to me anyway?” Scott let himself fall on the couch, resting his feet on the table in front of him. Jean already knew it was his frustration talking. They all had been lectured enough to understand why such classes were necessary.

Jean followed Scott’s lead and made herself comfortable beside him. Kurt leaned against the armrest of the couch.

“He indeed has an advantage, but I wasn’t expecting him to be that good.” She directed her eyes toward Kurt “You put up a pretty good fight against her, considering she is top of the class,” said Jean approvingly.

Kurt’s eyes suddenly lit up, and he turned toward them.

It was clear to him who she was talking about.

You hadn’t been in the institute for long but you managed to make a name for yourself right away. You hadn’t lost a spar in the self-defence class until now, making you one of the strongest fighters in the class.

“But how come she’s so strong? Does she have enhanced strength or something?” asked Scott raising an eyebrow.

“No. Her power is to transform drawings into solid objects,” Kurt responded.

Jean nodded and added, “I saw one of the spars she had with an older student. She pulled out a literal sword from the tattoo on her arm and beat his ass right in front of everyone. But do you know why she really is so strong?” Scott looked up at Jean’s questions with expectancy. “It’s because she is not a couch potato. Unlike you, Scott”

Scott threw a pillow at her, which she quickly stopped with her telekinetic powers.

The conversation went on with more complaints and remarks about the self-defence classes.

Kurt's mind drifted away, thinking of today’s class. More specifically the spar you had with him.

The first time he met you was in the self-defence class where he has been witness to your many wins. He has seen how graciously you can move and how powerful every single punch of yours is.

His admiration for you grew further and further from that day on. Not only because of your abilities but also because you remained humble and kind instead of letting your accomplishments get to your head. You were someone Kurt looked up to because you didn’t simply knock your opponent down. You gave hints and advice on what the correct stance is, how to throw a proper punch and so on. After every spar, you helped your opponent up and cheered them up like a football team’s coach would do. And you did exactly the same thing with Kurt after sparring with him.

He had lasted longer than the majority of the students you had gone against, but you still managed to make him eat dust. He lay on the ground as you approached to lend a hand. Kurt noticed your hand and was about to accept your help, but then hesitated. He was sure you would feel uncomfortable, considering Kurt’s unusual handshape. But to his surprise, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto his feet. He felt his cheek burn when he noticed the short distance you had between each other, but you kept your grip on his hand. The words you said stuck to Kurt like glue: “That was amazing. Just as expected. We have to repeat this sometime soon”. That along with your beautiful, bright smile made his heart beat unusually fast.

“Earth to lover boy, are you listening?”

Kurt turned his head toward Scott and Jean. Both were staring at him with sneaky smiles on their faces.

“Entschuldigung?”, asked Kurt clearly confused.

Jean and Scott exchanged glances in amusement.

“You’ve been smiling like an idiot since we mentioned her”, Jean said raising her eyebrows.

Kurt felt his cheeks grow hotter. “Oh, I was thinking of- you know, class- I mean-”

“Dude, it’s so clear you have a crush on her. You drool every time she is near,” Scott said rolling his eyes.

“It’s not like-”

“You have a crush on her” Kurt yelped at the sudden presence behind him, teleporting onto the spot between Jean and Scott on the couch on reflex. “Like, totally obvious” Quicksilver took a long sip from his apple juice, only to look disgusted at it. “What’s the expiration date on this?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t realise.” Kurt looked worryingly at Peter. “Do you think she noticed? Oh no, what if I weirded her out?”

“Well, only one way to find out.”

Everyone stared at Peter expectantly as he sipped his juice with risen eyebrows.

------- Part 1/3 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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ivonhart · 1 month

Text

the moon | steven grant x fem werewolf!reader

+ marc spector & jake lockley

— chapter six

| next (WIP)

| previous

cross posted on ao3

gif credit: @paper-n-ashes

summary: You've always hated the moon. Hated the way it made your body bend and break into a new form every month. Hated the way it tied you to one of the many gods of it. But you couldn't hate what the moon connected you to...who it connected you to.

a/n: !! chapter warnings !! PTSD, unintentional s*lf-harm It is NOT gonna get better for her XD!!!!

You woke the next morning to Layla scurrying around the room you slept in. You weren’t surprised to see the woman here. You knew she would’ve been hot on your tail the moment you left London. “Layla?”

You noted how hoarse your throat felt as you slowly sat up with a groan. The woman stopped in her tracks and quickly made her way over to you with a soft call of your name. “How are you feeling? I started to get nervous about whether you were going to wake up or not.” Your eyebrows were furrowed as you shook the drowsiness away.

Memories of what happened the previous day came flooding back and you looked down at your bandaged hand. It was clear it had been cleaned and rewrapped but there was still confusion floating within your mind. “What do you mean you were nervous? I just slept through the night.” Layla sat at the end of the bed with a look of pity. “You’ve been asleep for almost two days.”

A few beats of silence followed before you shot to your feet…almost pushing Layla off the bed in the process. “TWO DAYS?!” And as quickly as you got up…you fell down. All the blood rushing to your head, causing black dots to encase your vision. If it weren’t for Layla catching you, you would’ve fallen to the floor.

The woman hissed out your name with worry as she slowly sat you back on the bed. “The Scarab? Harrow? Marc?” His name left a bitter taste in your mouth as you dropped your head into your hands. You remembered what you said…what you did. Layla rubbed your arm silently. “I’m guessing Marc told you what happened?” You asked without lifting your head.

A small hum of confirmation left the woman’s mouth before she spoke. “He was lucky we were in the middle of a market, otherwise I would’ve punched him.” You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips before you raised your head. “I can’t believe I snapped like that. J-Just Marc simply saying ‘sorry’ and thinking that would fix everything sent me over the edge. And Steven.”

A wave of shame washed over you as you sighed. “I can’t even imagine what he must think about me now.” You turned to Layla with tear-filled eyes. “He probably thinks I’m an animal.” Layla slightly shook her head and allowed yours to fall against her shoulder as she began to speak.

“I can tell you one thing, Marc deserved everything you gave to him. What he said was disgusting and shameful. We know that man is not easy and I’m surprised it took you so long to finally snap at him…but I am surprised he said sorry. I mean…Marc never took accountability for his actions like that.” As Layla continued to speak, you had moved your hands to wrap around her arm. “But he did it with you.” You felt her shake her head.

“I am not saying that what Marc did was okay, but it is clear that he does regret it. He regrets it because he cares about you.” A small grumble passed your lips as you snuggled closer to Layla. “What has he been doing while I was asleep?” You questioned. “Mostly running around trying to find leads. He just left this morning chasing after another. He’ll probably be back later.”

A few seconds of silence followed before you whispered. “Also…I may have confessed to him.” Another pregnant pause filled the air as Layla took your words in. “WHAT!?” Now, it was Layla’s turn to almost knock you over as she shot to her feet. There was always an unspoken thing between the two of you about how you felt.

She never got confirmation about your feelings towards the man, but she always knew something was there. And she knew it went both ways even if you didn’t. Now, that once unspoken thing was gone as you spent the rest of the morning talking to her about everything.

“KHONSHU MAKE IT STOP!” Your pleas meant nothing to the god as he gazed up towards the moon. The full moon. “You know this is your punishment for what you did all those years ago.” He spat the words out with hatred. “You are nothing but a disgusting dog.”

Then he vanished, leaving you pushed up against a wall as you buried your head into your knees. You could hear them…calling you…cursing you. “–YOU MONSTER–HOW COULD YOU DO THIS–YOU KILLED US–IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT–”

You tried to scream back at them, but each time they grew louder and louder until you eventually found a spot curled against the wall. Knees to your chest whilst your hands covered your ears in a futile attempt to drown them out. It didn’t work.

“–YOU WOULD BE BETTER OFF DEAD–BEAST–MONSTER–MURDER–” Wails tumbled from your mouth as you rocked back and forth. Mouth wide, spewing apologies that would never be heard…eyes snapped shut but still seeing what Khonshu forced you to see.

You slid along the wall until your head pushed into the ground. Now, fully on your knees you began to smash your forehead against the floor. “stop…please stop…” was all that left your mouth with each hit. That’s when Marc finally made it back.

The moment he stepped out from within the pyramid and saw the full moon he was quick to make his way back to the hotel. Unfortunately, he was too late. By the time he got there you had already busted your head open, causing a small puddle of blood to pool against the floor. Your cries came out low and cracked as your throat grew weaker and weaker.

“stop…please stop…” A lump lodged itself within his throat as he made his way over to you. He wasn’t going to abandon you…not again. Slowly, Marc bent down and said your name. His hand ever so lightly brushed against your shoulder as he spoke.

With one final smack you went still and the room went silent once more. “A-Are they here?” Your words dripped from your mouth in the smallest tone Marc has ever heard. He muttered your name once more. “No…no one is here. You’re okay.” Steven watched from inside and his heart never felt so heavy. You carried so much. Suffered so much.

Steven could feel the guilt growing in Marc’s chest but he didn’t know it was because Marc blamed himself for being so late. If he got here quicker the night would’ve been easier. You wouldn’t have slipped so far to the point you believed what Khonshu made you see was real.

He watched as you slowly lifted your head to look at him…and when you did a fresh wave of tears fell from your eyes. Tears of relief. In a blink of an eye you had launched yourself into the man’s arms with sobs. “You came back!” You wailed. Despite the blood, tears and snot that began covering his shirt he held you as if you would disappear with the wind. “I got you. I got you.” And he did.

With effortless movements, the man pulled you into his arms and led you to the bathroom where he cleaned your head. Then he moved to the bed where he pulled the covers over your heads like a child would in an attempt to hide from a monster. All while you clung to him. “Don’t leave me, Marc.”

The warmth from your breath crashed against his skin and created goosebumps. Your head was tucked into his neck as you curled yourself into his body. Hands clasping handfuls of his shirt. His chest burned as he placed a feather-like kiss upon your head. “I’ll never leave you again.” Was the last words you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

The warmth he offered melted away the cold that seeped through your bones with each passing second. As you lay tangled within his arms, Marc heard Steven softly speak. “You love her…don’t you?”

You woke up during the early hours of the morning. The sun barley began peaking over the horizon, slowly changing the dark sky into one filled with hues of yellow and orange. With lazy blinks your vision steadied as you sat up, careful of the arm that fell across your stomach.

The day after a full moon always left you in a strange state. A state in which you almost weren’t in your body. Like bits of your being floated around…desperate to return to you. The pain along your head didn’t help with the feeling either. The only thing grounding you was him.

You looked over your shoulder to look at Marc…and Steven. Quickly, you shut your eyes to combat the sting of tears. You were embarrassed…ashamed at what Steven saw. Marc was used to the full moons. He helped you through them so many times…but not Steven. Because of your internal struggle you didn’t notice the bed sheets move until you heard his voice call out your name.

You kept your back towards Marc as he sat up, the warmth provided by his arm disappearing as he moved it away. “H-How are you feeling?” His tone was lighter than a feather, almost as if he was afraid to spook you with anything louder. Your mouth opened to say something but the only thing that came out was a soft sob.

Marc sat straighter and hesitantly brushed his hand across your forearm. Then he said your name again, causing you to slowly look at him. The moment your eyes locked he watched tears pool over your puffy eyes. “I’m sorry, Marc.” His eyes saddened as he shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.” That’s when his gaze dropped. “I should’ve been there sooner. If I had, it might've not gotten so bad.”

That’s when he started telling you about the meeting with the gods. “I know you’re upset with me right now, but you have to know that I would never leave you alone during a full moon.” And you believed him. You believed him, because since your first full moon together he never left you alone. Marc watched as you wiped your tears away and slightly moved so you could face him better before replying. “I can never stay upset with you, Marc.”

The man took note of the new look that swirled in your eyes. You inhaled deeply before you gently cupped the man’s cheeks. Your eyes never leaving his as your thumbs lightly stroked his five o’clock shadow. “I could never stay upset with you because…” A soft gasp left your mouth when you felt his large hand graze your thigh as he leaned closer.

His scent made your head spin as your mouth ran dry, making it almost impossible to say what your heart burned to say. “I know.” Marc’s words kissed your lips with how close he had gotten. Both his and your breathing grew heavy with each passing second. Then, in the blink of an eye, the tension snapped and your lips crashed into one another.

The kiss was different from the one you shared with Steven to save him from a panic attack. While that kiss was gentle, this one was rough and hungry. Teeth clashed together while hands wandered. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his hands gripped your thigh and cupped your chin.

Your bodies were so close it was as if you would mold together. Despite the words going unspoken, both you and him knew just how much you meant to one another in that moment.

a/n: Sometimes I find it hard to write romance because I've never really felt it before so forgive me if it's kinda bad. Also finished writing and posted this around one in the morning sO.

taglist: @n1ght5h4d3-24 / @sunipostsstuff / @blackholegladiator / @ajeff855 / @daughterofthequeen / @faefanatic / @dropdeadbec / @sgt-morgan / @milk-bulb / @dev-angeline / @griffinkid2187 / @mxltifxnd0m / @badbishsblog / @local-mr-frog / @khaleesihavilliard / @rmoonstoner / @thewinterv / @oscarissac2099 / @peachyrue-777 / @queerponcho / @aristokatastrophy / @phoenixgurl030

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine

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justagalwhowrites · 11 months

Text

Lavender - Ch. 14

Tommy comes into the clinic and you offer your medical skills to both him and Joel. Continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-13 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries and treatment of injuries from canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI!

Length: 5.4k

Sunday, October 4, 2009 - 3 months later

You came out from the exam rooms and frowned. It took you a second to place the song just starting on the speakers in the waiting room.

“Marta!” You said. “Is that Back in the U.S.S.R.?”

“It is indeed,” she leaned across the front desk.

“I haven’t heard that song in years!” You resisted the urge to dance in a waiting room with half a dozen patients as witnesses. The CD case was sitting on the desk and you gaped at it. “Is that the whole White Album? Where did you find that!”

“I didn’t,” she smiled. You smiled too, shaking your head. “Andrew told me to keep my mouth shut about it until Sunday afternoon. Said you’d need it.”

“He’s a sneak,” you said.

“He also said you work too much, that you need to stop changing his schedule and that you need to stop conspiring with Jess,” her smile shifted to a smirk. “But I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that today.”

“Oh I’m sure he’ll tell me himself later this week,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling.

“You’ve got one in exam four,” she handed you a chart. “And Kristen is in with one in exam seven when you’re done there.”

“Well, as long as we have The Beatles,” you said, tapping the file on the countertop in time to the music before heading back to the exam rooms.

It was a small miracle that Jess had actually kept Andrew away from the clinic that day. He’d been almost unreasonably protective since Joel had left three months earlier and with your birthday the next day… You didn’t want to disrupt his life any more than you already had. He needed to do things like have a day off. His life was on track.

The day after Joel left, you didn’t move. Andrew came by to make sure you were still alive. His knuckles were banged up. You stared at the wall. You slept. You stared at the wall some more. Andrew came back Monday morning, letting himself in your apartment and all but dragging you out of bed.

“You can come to our place or you can go to work,” he said, standing at the edge of your bed, your face pressed against his stomach as he ran his hands over your tangled mass of hair. “Those are your choices. You need to get cleaned up, you need to get out of bed, you need to eat something. You’re not going to just rot here.”

“I’ll go to work,” you said softly.

“Then let’s get ready for work.”

He walked you to the school, stood outside until he saw you go in the doors to make sure you didn’t just turn around and go back home. You didn’t go get your cup of bad coffee or stop and say hi to other teachers. You just went to your classroom and stared at the wall. Unlike in the schools before the outbreak, they’d let you paint your room. Andrew had helped. There was a solar system in one corner and a forest in another and flowering vines that framed the cracks in the cinderblock.

Your room was the only one in the building like this. The FEDRA teachers were different than the teachers you were used to before. Everyone decorated their rooms before, doing everything they could to keep students engaged. From what you gathered for the regular schools in the QZ, that was still the case - or as much as it could be in the end of the world. But at what amounted to a military school for orphans of the war on humanity, the bare necessities were all there was. It was part of why you decided to teach at this school. Someone, you thought, needed to be invested in these kids. Why couldn’t it be you?

So you’d decorated your room. Made a bookshelf and stocked it with things you picked up on the black market that had been brought in by smugglers and let the kids borrow what they wanted - everything from old copies of Scientific American to the Harry Potter books (you were still disappointed you’d never find out how those were going to end.)

As you stared at the vines you’d painted four years ago, you decided that you couldn’t shut down on these kids. They had no one. You couldn’t just be one more person to leave them. You could be the one person they knew loved them.

You made yourself smile as your students came in. Just because you didn’t matter to anyone else doesn’t mean that they didn’t matter to you. They were worth it.

You threw yourself into your work. You picked up extra shifts at the clinic. Before, you had Sundays and Wednesdays off but now, you were there every day. Elias had talked to you twice already about burnout but you’d just shrugged him off. All you cared about was finding something that forced you to keep going, something that made you feel something besides hollow. The clinic and the school could be those things. You’d make them be those things.

You quickly knocked on the door of exam room four before letting yourself in.

“Hi there,” you smiled, without looking at the patient for a moment, just opening the chart. You froze.

“Hey Kid.”

The door closed and latched behind you. Dear Prudence was playing.

“Hey Tommy.”

You stood there looking at each other.

“I didn’t think you’d be in today,” he said eventually. “Thought you didn’t work on Sundays.”

“I do now,” you shrugged. “I like keeping busy. There are no other doctors here right now but I can do a quick eval and see if a nurse can handle what you need or…”

“No,” he waved you off. “I don’t have a problem with seeing you if you don’t have a problem seeing me. Wouldn’t blame you if you did but…”

“I don’t,” you said quickly. He smiled. It reminded you of Joel in a way that made your heart ache while making everything seem lighter. You went to the sink and washed your hands, looking over your shoulder at him as you did. “How’ve you been?”

“Tryin’ to stay out of trouble,” he said. “Don’t know how good a job I’ve been doing at that though.”

“Not one of your considerable talents, I will say,” you teased. “What brings you by today?”

“My inability to stay outta trouble,” he smirked.

You laughed

“Alright, let’s see it.”

He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of one side of it. There was a makeshift bandage around his bicep and you frowned. The blood was dried and the bandage looked like it had been on for far longer than it should have been.

“Well that’s coming off,” you frowned. “And it’s probably going to hurt. The hell have you been doing, Miller?”

He just looked sheepishly at you while you unwound the dressing, trying to do so as gingerly as possible. He still winced as the dried blood and discharge pulled on the open wound.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Tommy?” You shook your head, looking over the injury. “The hell didn’t you come see me sooner?”

“It didn’t seem that bad at first,” he said. “But it hasn’t been getting better and…”

“Yeah, it’s infected you idiot,” you rolled your eyes, dropping the bandage in the trash. “When did you get this?”

“Last week?” He winced. You sighed.

“And why was someone shooting at you last week?” You asked. He went to respond and then glared at you.

“Never said I got shot,” he said.

“Yeah, I’ve had a partial shoulder shot, Tommy,” you glared at him. “I know what they look like. Who was shooting at you and why. Please tell me I’m not conspiring against FEDRA by treating you right now…”

“It wasn’t FEDRA,” he rolled his eyes. “Just… had a run in with some bad people is all.”

You looked at him for a moment.

“It wasn’t in the QZ was it?”

He paused.

“No.”

You groaned.

“What the fuck, Miller?”

“Can you spare the lecture, Kid?” He asked. “Can you fix my arm or not?”

“Nope, I’ll have to cut the whole thing off.”

He rolled his eyes. You sighed.

“Yes, I can fix your arm,” you said. “But it’s going to be a process because you didn’t come see me sooner. It needs debridement, I’m going to do some fairly intensive antibiotics because right now your shoulder is a goddamn Petri dish for a super bug and I want to nip that in the bud and then you’re getting stitches. And I swear to God Tommy if you don’t follow my directions for wound care…”

“You’re not as scary as you think you are, Kid,” he smirked. “But I’ll listen to ya.”

You glared at him but went and got what you needed from the supply room and scrubbed in before gloving up.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you said, sitting next to him on the exam table as you injected his arm with local anesthetic. He winced. “Otherwise I’d just do this without numbing you up just to teach you a lesson.”

You got out a scalpel and forceps, testing his arm after a minute before starting in on the infected tissue.

“That’s disgusting,” he sounded a little sick.

“Yeah, well, this is the price you pay for being a dumbass,” you said, focused on his arm.

“Your bedside manner is shit, Kid, anyone ever tell you that?”

“You’d be the first,” you replied, depositing some of the tissue on a sterile cloth and going back in. He laughed. “Hold still or I will take off your arm.”

He looked straight ahead for a moment while you worked, eyes narrowed, trying to make sure you were getting all the infected tissue while not taking any of the healthy with it. But after a few minutes he looked at you.

“So how’ve you been?” He asked.

“Busy,” you said noncommittally.

“C’mon,” he said. “You know what I’m askin’.”

You were quiet for a minute.

“He told you then,” you said eventually.

“Yeah.” He was still looking at you. You resisted the urge to cry. You couldn’t fuck up your sterile field.

“Well, I’m still here,” you shrugged as you deposited more tissue on the cloth, giving the wound a final look. You grabbed the saline and went back to it. “May not want to tell him that, it’d probably be a let down.”

“Look, Joel’s a fucking asshole but he’s not that much of a fucking asshole,” he said, sounding a bit defensive. “He wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“He said he never wanted to see me again,” you irrigated the wound and looked it over again. “A lot easier to do if I dropped dead or left town.”

Tommy didn’t say anything. You put the saline away and got out the suture kit.

“I’m going to stitch you up now,” you said. “Let me know if you feel anything, I can add to the anesthesia…”

He just nodded and you started stitching.

“How is he?” You asked after a moment. Tommy paused a moment before answering.

“Survivin’,” he said eventually. You nodded slowly.

“He going outside the QZ too?”

“Not sure I should be telling a FEDRA doctor anything about that,” Tommy said wryly. You glared a him. “But yeah. He is.”

“Tommy,” you groaned. “Jesus Christ…”

“You think I can control a damn thing that man does?” He asked. You glared at him. “We both know he’s going to do whatever the fuck he wants, whatever he thinks is the best thing for everybody because no one else can take care of shit like Joel fuckin’ Miller can…”

“Been sitting on that feeling for a while there?” You half smiled.

“Something like that,” he muttered.

You finished stitching his arm and gave him a shot of antibiotics.

“That’s going to start clearing the infection,” you said. “But I’m sending you home with pills, too. You take every single fucking one of them or I swear I will come and shove them down your throat like I’m drugging a dog. Bacterial infection is a shit show here as it is, I will not let you make it worse because you create an antibiotic resistant strain of super bacteria by not completing your meds…”

“I’ll take the drugs, Kid.”

“Good.”

You wrapped his arm and sat back, looking at your handiwork.

“Come in like that again and I’m not giving you the anesthesia,” you said, cleaning up your supplies.

“Well there’s some incentive for you,” he laughed, shrugging back into his shirt. You threw away the trash and your gloves and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching as he buttoned his shirt.

“How often are you leaving the QZ?” You asked.

“Don’t exactly have a set schedule,” he said, cagey.

“Tommy.”

“Bout twice a month.”

You nodded slowly.

“And how often are you getting fucking shot at?”

He laughed a little and gave you a cocky smile.

“Bout twice a month.”

“Jesus Christ…” you muttered.

“They’re bad shots, Kid.”

“Not that bad.”

You sighed.

“I’m only saying this because I know you’re going to keep going out there regardless of what I say about it,” you said. “But next time one of you is hurt and you don’t feel… comfortable coming to the clinic, please get me. I’ll come to you, you can come to me, I don’t really care. Just please don’t get yourselves killed because you’re stubborn idiots.”

“That go for my idiot brother, too?” He asked, watching you.

“Course it does,” you said. “Just hit him over the head with a frying pan after taking a thorough medical history so he doesn’t have to see me when I treat him.”

Tommy snorted, shaking his head as he got down from the exam table. He looked you up and down, a sense of sadness on his face.

“He’s an idiot, Kid,” he said, meeting your eyes. “I love him but he’s the biggest fuckin’ idiot I know.”

“He’s not,” you half smiled at him. “But I appreciate the thought. Try to make sure he stays in one piece? Look out for him?”

“I will,” he said, leaning in and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You pressed the bottle of antibiotics into his hand and watched him leave the exam area, staring at the door he left through for a moment before going to the next exam room.

Your birthday was a Monday. It was hard to not think about the year before, the day that Joel and Tommy made it to the QZ. You’d thought, for a while, that it was a sign that the day might not be cursed. It could hold the best and the worst of life, it didn’t matter. It felt less good now.

This year, a long workday helped. Your students were particularly well behaved for a Monday. You weren’t sure if they sensed that you were off or if it was just a coincidence but either way, you were grateful for it. The clinic was good, too. Enough patients to keep your mind occupied and body moving, not so many that you were overwhelmed.

“Not a bad day all things considered,” Andrew said as you finished with your last patient’s chart a few minutes before 10. The White Album was on again.

“It was not,” you said, perching on the edge of the desk. He leaned beside you. “Thank you for The Beatles, by the way.”

“Course,” he kissed your temple and you rested your head on his shoulder. “Knew you’d need it.”

“I come bearing cake!” Jess sang as she came into the clinic, plate in hand. “Andrew said it wasn’t really that kind of birthday but I figure hard days are an even better excuse for cake so…”

“Any days are a good excuse for cake,” you smiled.

“My sentiments exactly,” she smiled back.

The three of you walked to your place and you put on the AC/DC album that you kept at the apartment specifically for when Andrew was being a jerk about your music or needed some cheering up.

“Awww, real music,” he said as you cut the cake. “You DO care!”

“Don’t read into it,” you shook your head and smiled a little, passing out plates. You poured each of you a beer and you gathered around your small table.

“To an honestly not bad birthday for the shittiest of birthdays,” Andrew raised his glass. You shook your head.

“If society ever returns, you’re not giving a toast at my wedding,” you teased.

You’d only gotten halfway through your beer and your slice of cake - Jess, as it turned out, was a talented baker - when there was a sharp knock on your door. The three of you looked at each other, frowning. Andrew gestured for both of you to stay put and tiptoed to the door. He checked the peephole before opening it, holding the door against his side so whoever it was couldn’t see in.

“Are you the Kid?” A woman’s voice you didn’t recognize asked. “I was told to come here and get the Kid, it’s urgent…”

You got up and went to the door, ducking below Andrew’s arm. He groaned.

“You couldn’t just stay at the table…” he muttered.

A woman, about 10 years older than you, was standing there. Her lip was swollen, blood at her arm where her shirt was torn. She looked you up and down, assessing you.

“You’re the Kid,” she said instead of asked it this time. “Jesus, you are young.”

“I’m 31,” you said defensively.

“Huh,” her eyes lingered on your hair. You’d put a ribbon on the end of your braid. “You look younger.”

“Thanks,” you said wryly. Andrew pulled you back against him, his hand on your shoulder possessively. You crossed your arms. “I take it you know Tommy?”

“And Joel,” she said. Andrew’s hand clenched you harder. “They need help and Tommy said I should come to you…”

“No,” Andrew said before you got a chance to respond. “I don’t care what shit they got themselves into…”

“I don’t think I was asking you,” the woman said. “Look, I don’t have time…”

“How bad is it?” You cut them both off. She looked you over again. You sighed. “Before the outbreak would you call an ambulance or drive to urgent care?”

“Ambulance.”

You shoved past Andrew and went to grab the go bag you kept stashed under your bed for emergency situations where they called you into the field from home. The woman had followed you inside. Jess waved awkwardly from the table.

“Celebrating?” The woman asked.

“It’s her birthday,” Jess nodded in your direction. The woman winced a little.

“Sorry about that.”

“Hasn’t been a day worth celebrating in a while,” you shrugged. “Don’t know why that should change now.”

Andrew grabbed your arm and you frowned up at him.

“You don’t need to do this,” he said. The woman stiffened, sizing him up. You ignored her.

“Yes I do.”

He pulled you in for a tight hug and sighed.

“Don’t let it destroy you.”

You gave him a stiff nod and hurried out into the night with the woman.

“Where are they?” You asked, walking quickly to the stairs. “Their apartment?” The woman nodded once. You started down the stairs and you looked her up and down. “Can you run?”

“There’s a reason I was the one to come get you,” she said.

You took off for their place the second you were down the stairs, glancing back to see that the other woman wasn’t far behind.

It had been months since you’d ventured into this part of the QZ. You’d actively avoided it. You tried not to think about the fact that it had been more than three months since you’d last seen Joel but you knew it would hurt. His picture was still on your bedside table. You thought about him all the time - when you found a clever line in a book you’d share if he were reading beside you, when you remembered the way he’d touch you without thinking about it because touching you was the most natural thing in the world, when you tried to channel his blunt way of moving through life when something about the QZ was especially frustrating. You’d missed him desperately before he came to Boston. It was worse now. He was so close, close enough that you could be touching him in just minutes and he’d never been further away. You were worried you were going to be stuck like this - longing and alone - forever.

And you were still running to his side.

The woman let you into their apartment. Joel was flat on his back in the middle of the living room floor, Tommy beside him with a towel on Joel’s side.

“Hey Kid,” Tommy said sheepishly. He was bleeding, too, what looked like a shallow knife wound on his ribs. You glared at him, going to the other side of Joel and dropping your pack next to him.

“I just patched you up fucking yesterday, Miller,” you said. “And this is what you do?”

“Can you lecture me after you save this asshole?” He asked.

“Move the towel,” you ordered. “I need to see what I’m working with.”

He obeyed, pulling the cloth away and revealing a bullet hole in Joel’s stomach.

“Son of a bitch,” you breathed. “You just had to fucking go outside the QZ again, didn’t you?”

“I know, I know,” he said. “Please say you can fix this…”

“I sure fucking hope so,” you looked between him and the woman. “Which of you is better with blood? Both with seeing it and have lost less of it?”

“I think I’ve lost less,” the woman said. Her fingers were winding around themselves. She was nervous.

“Good,” you said. “Tommy, move.” You grabbed the bag and went to where he’d been and looked at the woman. “You… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Tess.”

“Tess,” you repeated once, nodding. “You’re with me. Go wash your hands like you just swam in a sewer and you’re about to eat a sandwich. Tommy, I need light, a fuck ton of light. And boil water, I’m going to need sterile water.”

They both rushed to obey while you assessed the situation. Joel was unconscious. You tried really hard to not think about the fact that it was Joel who was unconscious. The bullet wound was your primary concern. You checked his pulse. It was a lot weaker than you wanted.

“Tommy,” you called. “How many towels have you gone through?”

“Three, I think?” He called back, running in with flashlights and depositing them next to you.

“Shit,” you muttered. Tess came back from the bathroom and you pulled a pack of gloves from your bag. “Put those on, hold pressure on the wound. I need to go scrub because I need to get in there.”

You pulled off your button down shirt leaving just your tank top below and left Tess there, trusting her to follow your instructions. You were still fighting not to panic about the fact that it was Joel bleeding out on the living room floor. You focused on the water running over your fingers, the soap, anything but whose life you were about to try to save.

Tess was holding the towel against Joel’s stomach when you came back in and you pulled on gloves, getting on your knees beside his body.

“This is going to be messy for multiple reasons,” you said, looking between Tess and Tommy. “Either of you ever drawn blood before?” They glanced at each other but were silent. “Either of you happen to know his blood type?”

“You don’t?” Tommy asked.

“Why would I know Joel’s blood type?” You looked at him like he was crazy.

“Weren’t you studying for that doctor exam when you were…”

“Yeah, I didn’t go around memorizing everyone’s blood types!” You closed your eyes for a second. This was going to take a small miracle. “Doesn’t matter. I’m O-, either of you O-?”

They shook their heads.

“Why’s that matter?” Tommy asked.

“Because I’m basically a walking blood bag,” you said, cracking your neck. “And he’s going to need a transfusion…”

“How are you going to transfuse him while operating?” Tess gaped at you.

“Fucking carefully I guess!” You snapped. “This is going to be a first for me, too, but unless you guys want to move him to the clinic and get potentially executed by FEDRA for leaving the QZ…”

“Right,” Tess nodded. “Right, OK…”

“Any other emergent injuries that I should know about besides the gunshot wound?” You asked. They were silent. You took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright, let’s do this. Tommy, I need light.”

He held the light over Joel’s stomach and you palpated his stomach, finding the bullet.

“Tommy,” you glanced up at him. “I’m not sure how unconscious he is, but if he starts moving, you need to hold him down. I don’t have anesthesia and I can’t have him thrashing around when I’m wrist deep in his abdominal cavity. If the call is light or holding him still, drop the light and hold him down, got it?”

He swallowed hard and then nodded. You picked up the scalpel, took a deep breath, and cut. Tommy made a gagging sound and you ignored him. You located the bullet quickly, lodged in the large intestine. All things considered, he got lucky. It had missed the pancreas, the stomach and the small intestine.

“Tess,” you said as you got ready to extract the bullet. “I need you to try to monitor his pulse. If it gets any fainter, we’ll have to start a transfusion now. Once I start pulling the bullet out, the bleeding could get a lot worse.”

You pried the bullet free, trying to move it as cleanly as possible down the path it had entered his body through - easier said than done without the proper tools. And he did start bleeding more. You just hoped it wouldn’t be too bad.

“I need gauze, from the kit, in the sterile packs.”

Tess moved quickly ripping it open. You yanked it out and stuffed the wound, giving you time to repair the damage to the large intestine without flooding the abdominal cavity with blood. “He’s getting pale,” Tess warned.

“Pulse?”

“I think it’s OK…”

You nodded, swapping out gauze.

“Tommy,” you said. “I need that water…”

He grabbed the still warm kettle, handing it to you. You splashed some on your skin. It was hot but didn’t burn. You cleaned the area and watched to see if he was still losing blood, if there was a repair you’d missed. You were pretty sure you’d caught everything.

“Good news,” you pulled the gauze from his body. “Damage was pretty minimal and it was a simple repair. I’m going to close him up, then we can just tap into me and finish this up…”

You stitched him up quickly and yanked the gloves off before switching them for a clean pair.

“In the bag, there should be a needle pack, alcohol wipes, some tubing and a tourniquet,” you said. “I need all of it.”

Tess moved quickly again, handing you the supplies. You didn’t have a bag to transition the blood from you to Joel, so you were going to have to settle for a direct transfusion. It wasn’t something that was ever really done anymore, but you’d read enough about it, you were pretty sure you could figure it out. You got everything set up and sat down, your back against the couch, before putting the needle in your own arm. You removed the tourniquet and blood started flowing from you into him. You slumped over a bit, finally able to take a breath. You kept his wrist in your hand to monitor his pulse.

“He should be largely out of the woods,” you said. Both Tess and Tommy visibly relaxed. “He’s going to need to take it easy for a while. Tommy, those antibiotics I gave you yesterday? Give Joel the same dosage. Track how many you give him, come by the clinic sometime this week when I’m there and I’ll give you another bottle.”

“Thank you,” Tess was watching you. “For doing this. Your friend was right, you didn’t have to…”

“Yes I did,” you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the couch. “But I would have anyway.”

Tommy brought you a glass of water and you chugged it, trying to pay attention to how long you’d been transferring blood and how strong Joel’s pulse was. His color was getting a bit better. Tess and Tommy were talking in hushed tones in the kitchen but you didn’t care.

You hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d seen Joel without tension in his face. He was soft and beautiful like this. It reminded you of life with him in Texas, when the biggest problems you had were whether or not Sarah should do regular soccer or travel soccer. You had to resist the urge to touch him, kiss him. Fuck, you loved him. You’d always be stuck loving him.

You decided to enjoy it. You doubted you’d have a chance to see him like this ever again, so you quietly memorized his face, the flecks of gray coming into his beard, the creases around his eyes, the precise arch of his nose. You looked away for a moment to check the status of his incision - relieved to see that it wasn’t oozing blood - when the hand that was in your fingers started to move.

You tightened your grip on him - not wanting to disturb the transfusion - but watched his face. “Tommy,” you called over your shoulder, still watching Joel. He and Tess both rushed over, the three of you watching as Joel slowly came round.

His eyes found you first and you braced yourself for his wrath, but it didn’t come.

“Hey Baby,” his lips tugged up at the edges. “Did I die? What are you doin’ here?”

“Not dead,” your heart was racing. “You’re very much alive, despite your best efforts.”

“He doesn’t remember,” Tommy said. “Why doesn’t he remember?”

“He will,” you said. “He’s just out of it. He probably won’t remember this at all, which is just as well…”

“Always remember you…” he muttered. He tried to sit up but you pushed him back down. His eyes drifted over you. “Even dead you’re so fuckin’ pretty…”

“Not dead, Joel. Giving you a blood transfusion right now,” you said. “And you just had surgery. You need to lie still for me, OK?”

“Knew you’d be a doctor,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again. “My girl the doctor…”

“That’s me alright,” you said, feeling light headed. You looked up at Tommy. “Hold him down for me? I think he’s got enough blood now and I can’t stand losing much more…”

Tommy listened as you stopped the transfusion and got everything cleaned up. Joel was unconscious again, but no longer bleeding out.

“He’ll need to be monitored for the next 48 hours,” you said, writing out some basic care instructions. “Anything goes to shit, Tommy, you know where to find me. And don’t forget about the antibiotics. We can’t have him getting infected…”

“We can pay you when we cash in from this run,” Tess said, her hands in her back pockets as she watched you. You frowned.

“I don’t want your money,” you said.

“I’m not comfortable owing someone,” she replied. You read between the lines. She wasn’t comfortable owing you, Joel’s ex. Something told you that Tommy hadn’t mentioned the specifics of your relationship to Joel. And Joel had moved on. Of course he’d moved on. There was a stabbing pain in your chest that you’d have to cry about once you were out of here.

“You don’t,” you said, desperate to go home. “Really. Hippocratic oath and all that…”

“There has to be something you need,” she said.

You looked at her, thinking for a moment before settling on something.

“Can you take me outside the QZ?”

A/N: Soooooo please excuse any and all medical errors in this sucker. I word for a living (that's right, I write all day at work and then I get on my personal laptop and write all evening because why not.) I know jack crap about anything medical beyond what some googling does and the fact that I binged watched both Grey's Anatomy and E.R. at the start of the pandemic. This is probably a medical disaster area but just act like I know what I'm talking about, OK? It'll be way more fun that way.

Thank you as always for reading! We're into the QZ era of the story which I might be weirdly excited about given the realities of it. I have lots planned for this chunk of the fic and I hope you all enjoy it. I love love LOVE reading all your comments and seeing what you respond to and connect with. Thanks so much for sticking with this story! I love you all!

Taglist (just comment below if you want to be added!): @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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dccomicsimagines · 2 years

Text

The Potty Mouth - Dick Grayson x Reader

Warning - Swear words and adult themes related to said swearing are ahead!

Requested by Anon - dick grayson!robin x reader where reader is very loud and gets excited easily, also has a bad potty mouth and robin finds it hilarious whenever reader is roasting somebody or upsetting kaldur with their colorful language and jokes

***

Dick moaned, rubbing his head as he sat up. The ground was cold and hard beneath him. The truck they had been driving was several feet away, rolled on it’s side. Deep tire tracks embedded the ditch they crashed in.

“Is everyone okay?” Dick called out. He slowly got to his feet. Pain flared throughout his whole body, but no broken bones. Just bruises.

“I’m fine,” Artemis said as she crawled out the window of the truck. “Might have a bit of whiplash.” She rubbed her neck.

Dick nodded, moving toward the truck. “KF? (Y/N)?” He saw a shoe trapped under the truck. His heart flew into his throat before he saw it wasn’t attached to a body. He sighed in relief. “Any sign of the thugs we were following?”

Artemis looked around, but the road was empty. “Gone.” She sighed, closing her eyes and sank to the ground.

“Try to stay whelmed. I’ll take a look for them,” Dick said, noting how much she was holding her head. She probably had a concussion too. This mission was going south fast.

It was supposed to be a simple surveillance mission. You, Dick, Artemis, and Wally were tailing the suspected Kobra agents after they picked up an unknown substance from a black market buyer. However, another vehicle appeared and forced them off the road.

“That’s the last time we let Artemis drive,” Wally groaned from somewhere in the woods beside the road. Dick followed the groan to find Wally laying on the ground holding his arm. “I think I broke my arm.”

“Steady, Kid Mouth.” Dick knelt down to check his arm. “It’s just dislocated.” Wally coughed. Dick helped him to his feet. “Have you seen (Y/N)?”

“Well, if they aren’t dead, I’m sure we’ll hear them soon enough.” Wally stumbled toward Artemis and sat down beside her. The two started arguing. Dick rolled his eyes.

Dick went deeper into the woods. He mentally mapped out the crash, trying to work out how far you could have been thrown. You were leaning out the window when the truck hit the gravel.

“Son of a bitch!” Your voice echoed from behind Dick. Dick spun, running back down the road.

“I told you!” Wally said, snorting. Artemis slapped the back of his head. Wally yelped.

“(Y/N)?!” Dick stopped when he found you lying against a tree. Your leg bent at an odd angle.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I swear to god, if you move me, I’ll skin you alive and feed you to fucking man-eating sharks.”

Dick smiled, mostly in relief. “The sharks would be fucking and eating at the same time?” He dropped to his knees beside you, gently inspecting your leg.

“Watch it. It hurts like a motherfucker ran it over with his fucking semi.” You hissed. Wally and Artemis slowly walked over to join you and Dick.

“That’s because it’s broken.” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “This mission was a disaster, heavy on the dis.”

“Batman and Black Canary will put us through another fifty hours of surveillance training.” Wally sat down beside you.

Artemis collapsed on your other side. “Actually, only you should have to do that Bay-Watch. You’re the one who grabbed the wheel and caused us to crash.”

Dick rolled his eyes as he sent out a distress signal.

“Will you two bitches just shut up?!” You exploded, throwing your hands in the air. Both Wally and Artemis fell silent. Dick ducked his head to hide his smile. “One, it was neither of your faults or both. I don’t give a fuck.” You held up one finger. “Two, we were in the shit the moment they made us.” Another finger went up. “Three, we didn’t fail the mission.”

“What?” Dick blinked as he was checking his belt for first aid supplies. “What do you mean?”

You smirked before shifting to get something from your pocket. “Shit.” Blood drained out of your face when you moved your leg. Artemis helped you pull your phone from your pocket. You tapped the now partly shattered screen before holding up a tracer app. “I got a tracker on their car before we crashed and it looks like their hideout is in Bludhaven.”

Dick laughed hard. He was tempted to kiss you, but Artemis hugged you from the side before he could even get close enough. “I should have known you did something when you went half out the window.”

Wally sighed. “Great job, (Y/N).” He nudged your side.

“Someone had to do something while you two make yourselves look like damn fools.” You smiled, meeting Dick’s eye. Dick nodded at you, turning to focus on your leg so you wouldn’t see the blush on his cheeks.

***

“Wait, so we don’t get to finish what we started,” Dick said, walking over to Batman after he just finished a mission briefing for Kaldur, M’gann, Conner, Zatanna, and Raquel. Artemis and Wally were behind him, equally disgruntledly.

“Yeah, Batman, we were the ones who found out where Kobra is,” Wally said, crossing his arms. Artemis nodded.

The others shared looks, staying out of it. Batman turned to glare at the three. “You are recovering.” Batman straightened himself to his full height. “You are all off until you are cleared medically. I suggest you take this time to rest.” Batman turned to the others. “You have your mission.”

The silence filled the room as Batman left. Once he was out of range, everyone sighed in relief. “Hey, look at it this way, you guys get to celebrate Halloween,” M’gann said, smiling brightly to cheer up the three. “And you can keep (Y/N) company.”

“Oh joy. We get to hang out with the potty mouth.” Wally threw his hands in the air. Dick had to admit, if he was grounded from missions, at least hanging out with you would be a sweet deal.

“At least they’re better company than you,” Artemis snapped, punching his arm. Wally winced, rubbing his arm and narrowing his eyes at her.

Kaldur held up a hand. “Enjoy your time off and recover, my friends.”

“We’ll try not to have too much fun,” Raquel said, nudging Zatanna. Zatanna giggled.

“Besides, we’ll have some peace and quiet for once,” Conner mumbled. M’gann touched his arm, shaking her head.

Dick put his hands in his pocket. It hurt when the team made their passive aggressive comments about you. At least they were never to your face. He imagined your face falling, heartbroken. That he couldn’t let happen ever.

The others said their goodbyes and left. Wally and Artemis started snapping at each other. Dick shook his head at the two of them and slipped out of the room.

“Hey Robbie, guess what?!” Your voice made Dick smile. He stepped into the living room to find you on the couch. Your casted leg rested on the coffee table next to a big pumpkin shaped bowl filled with Halloween candy and several bottled drinks.

“What?” Dick hopped over the couch to sit next to you. You were wearing a sweatshirt with a green skeleton on it. He remembered you showing off how it glowed in the dark.

You grinned and pointed to your laptop. “I got the new horror game you told me about.” Dick leaned over to see the main menu on your screen.

“Wow, I’m whelmed.” Dick laughed, loving the excited sparkle in your eye. “I should put it on the big screen.”

“Could you?” Your eyes widened, bouncing in your seat. “That would be fucking amazing! A hundred times scarier!” Dick took your laptop and knelt down next to the tv to get it set up. You watched him, clapping your hands. “We’re going to feel the aster! Until the first scare anyway!”

“What are you two doing?” Artemis asked, walking in and taking a seat in the armchair.

Dick chuckled, answering her since your mouth was full of candy. “Celebrating Halloween by playing the scariest game to date.” He heard you clapping excitedly in agreement.

Artemis reached over to take a candy bar as Wally zoomed in. Wally helped himself to a handful of candy and sitting down to Dick. “Are you seriously planning on hanging out with (Y/N) all night?” he mumbled in Dick’s ear with his mouth full.

“Yes.” Dick elbowed his side. “It will be fun.”

Wally snorted, going to sit on the armchair opposite of Artemis. “So what are we playing?” Wally asked with slight disinterest. You laughed and explained the game to him. Your hands moved as you talked. Dick moved back to sit next to you, close enough for his hip to brush against yours. You didn’t notice since you were still describing the game to Wally.

Artemis, however, raised an eyebrow at Dick. A smirk played onto her face. Dick just stared back at her, daring her to say something. “So should we start the game?” Wally asked, taking another handful of candy.

“Yes please!” You bumped Dick’s side. “You play first, Rob. I trust you to get us killed in the first three minutes.”

Dick scoffed, pressing his hand against his chest. “Hey, I have a danger sense.” You laughed loudly, getting Artemis and Wally to join you. Dick grabbed the controller. His heart skipped a beat when you snuggled a little closer to him as the game started.

***

“Whatever you do, don’t open that door,” Wally said, scooting closer to you and Dick. He fallen out of his chair when Dick opened the wrong door last time.

“No, you got to open that door. It’s got to be the way out,” Artemis said from her place on the couch beside Dick. Dick bit his lip, looking at you as you studied the screen. “It’s a different color from the others.”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your bottom lip. “If we die now, we’ll lose all our progress.” You clenched your hands around the controller. The lights were dimmed, candy bowl full of wrappers and empty drink bottles.

Dick laid his hand on your wrist. “Stay whelmed. We got this. This is the right door. Art’s right, the color is different.” He moved his hand when you met his eye. He hoped it was dark enough to hide his blush.

“It could just be different because of the graphics. Don’t do it,” Wally argued, covering his face with his hands.

“We can’t just stay in this hallway forever, open the door.” Artemis nudged Wally with her foot. “If we die, at least we tried to make progress.”

You glanced at all three. Dick could feel how fast your heart was racing from just having his body pressed against yours. Artemis was leaning in quite a bit. “Your choice, (Y/N).”

“Oh fuck this.” You opened the door. It was a normal bedroom. All four of you sighed in relief. Suddenly in the game, you were spun around and a terrifying ghost face filled the screen. All four of you screamed as the screen went black.

You wrapped your arms around Dick, squeezing all the air out of him. Dick choked. “I told you,” Wally panted, hand against his chest.

“Shut up.” Artemis took a deep breath before laughing.

“Oops, sorry,” you said, pulling away from Dick. He noted you didn’t meet his eye. “I squeezed the shit out of you.”

Dick just chuckled. “I’m fine. That got all of us.” He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Who’s next?”

Wally held up a hand for the controller. You were about to hand it to him when a metallic clang came from the kitchen. “What was that?” Artemis hissed, glancing toward the dark kitchen. The four of you were the only ones in the cave. Red Tornado was on Watchtower duty.

Your hand found Dick’s and held it in a death grip. Dick smiled at you. He had to admit his heart was racing too. “It was nothing?”

Suddenly, a hand landed on Dick’s shoulder. Dick’s soul left his body as a somewhat high pitch scream slipped out of his mouth. You screamed with him. Wally and Artemis jumped to their feet, shouting as well.

“Computer, lights on.” Batman’s voice barely made it over everyone’s cries. The lights brightened to reveal the Dark Knight himself. Dick stared at him, stopping his scream only when he caught the faint hint of a smirk on Batman’s lips. Bruce thought this was funny. Dick frowned.

“Son of a bitch, Batman!” You glared back at him, swatting his hand away from Dick’s shoulder. “What the fuck? Can’t you announce your presence like a normal person?”

“Language, (Y/N).” Batman frowned. “I heard the screams and became concerned.”

Wally sighed, running a hand over his face. “Geez, Batman. Not cool.”

“Very not cool.” Artemis blushed when she realized she grabbed Wally’s arm. She quickly let go and looked away.

“Perhaps it’s time for all of you to go to bed,” Batman said, crossing his arms. “It’s almost midnight.”

“On a Saturday when it’s Halloween?” You grabbed your crutches and stood up to face Batman. “Seriously? It’s bad enough you took all four of us off missions for a week or more, but now you want us to go to bed because we were having fun?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Maybe you should go to bed if you can’t handle our screaming or go be Mr. Dark and Scary in Gotham? I mean if you don’t prowl around on Halloween, then what’s the point of dressing like a bat anyway?”

Dick snorted and pressed his hand over his mouth to stop a laugh. Batman leveled a bat-glare at you, but you just smiled at him almost sweetly. Artemis and Wally couldn’t stop their chuckles, but quickly looked away from you and Batman.

“Keep it down.” Batman shot a warning look to Dick. Dick shrank a little. Batman swept out of the room, letting his cape flick behind him.

“Coward,” you said once Batman was gone. You sat back down next to Dick. “You good?”

“Feeling the aster...” Dick let more laughter spill out of him. “That was awesome, (Y/N).”

Artemis sank back down on the couch. “I never understand how you can stand up to him.”

“He’s not that scary when your face to face with him.” You winked at Artemis. “Just imagine him in his underwear and he’s not scary at all.”

Wally groaned in disgust. “Yuck, I didn’t need that image.” Artemis and you laughed. Dick beamed, watching you. He memorized your laugh, the joy in your eyes. Best night ever.

***

The next week, Dick, Wally, and Artemis were cleared for missions. You were still prohibited due to your cast. It hurt to see you so bummed. Dick did his best to make you smile and laugh, but he knew you were itching to get back in the field.

Dick stretched his arms, happy to be in his suit again. Kaldur, Artemis, and Wally were waiting for the mission briefing. Dick joined him. “Where’s the others?” Artemis asked as she checked the tautness of her bow.

“M’gann and Conner have an overnight field trip,” Kaldur said. Wally munched loudly on a bag of chips. Kaldur frowned at him, shaking his head. “Zatanna and Raquel had other commitments.”

“Oh my god, will you look at this? You’re all dressed up, but have no place to go?” you teased as you hobbled into the room on your crutches.

“We got a mission, (Y/N).” Artemis put her bow away.

Your face fell slightly. “Must be exciting.”

Dick perked up, hopping over to you somewhat eagerly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Says you, it’s boring.” You sighed, nudging Dick’s side. Dick’s body electrified at the touch.

He grinned. “Come on, we’ll play the game again when I get back.”

You smiled at him in return. Wally started making kissing sounds. You looked at him in confusion while Dick’s soul left his body. “Enough, Wallace,” Kaldur ordered, elbowing his side.

Batman came through the zeta tube all business. You were about to leave, but Dick touched your arm. “Stay, I think we can find you something to do,” Dick whispered. Your eyes widened eagerly.

“Hell yes!” You grinned when everyone turned to look at you. Batman glared. You just shrugged and listened in on the briefing.

***

Dick sat next to you in the bioship, watching you as you barely contained your excitement at being on a mission. Since M’gann wasn’t here, the team had to use comms. So, Dick was able to convince Batman that they’d need someone to manage the comms from the bioship. He touched his lips. You had squealed and kissed him when Batman finally said yes.

“Aren’t you guys lucky? You get to mess with the fucking snake people anyway,” you said, glancing between Wally, Artemis, and Dick. During the team’s last mission to infiltrate Korba’s Bludhaven warehouse, they had uncovered coded intel detailing another operation of theirs. Thus, giving you all a chance at finishing the mission that started it all.

“Language, (Y/N).” Kaldur blushed, shifting in his seat.

You shared a devious smile with Dick. “Sorry, I meant the damn fucking snake people.”

Dick chuckled, glancing at Kaldur to only see him glaring. “(Y/N), watch your language on the comms. We cannot be distracted in the field,” Kaldur ordered sternly.

“Okay, okay.” You held up your hands. “I’ll close my potty mouth.”

“Finally.” Wally snorted from his seat. You turned to look at him blankly. Wally just looked back at you.

“If it annoys Wall-man, then please keep your potty mouth open,” Artemis said. You laughed. Your laughter was infectious, soon everyone was chuckling along with you. Dick reached over to touch your hand. You opened your hand, letting his hand rest in yours. Dick’s heart fluttered, so glad you were able to join the mission.

***

Dick peeked through an air vent at the Kobra warehouse. “It looks like a training faculty,” Dick mumbled into his comm. Wally crawled forward to look through the vent as well. The room below had training mats and equipment scattered around. Two Kobra men were sparring in the center of the room while a group surrounded them, watching. “This might be where they take new enlistees.”

“We found what looks like a medical bay,” Artemis said. She and Kaldur went one way through the vents while Wally and Dick went the other way. Meanwhile, you stayed in the bioship, mapping out the locations as they found things.

“Now if either of you finds a sex dungeon, then this warehouse will officially be the creepiest place ever,” you said, gagging slightly. The last room Dick and Wally found was some kind of lab that appeared to be growing some kind of snake humanoids.

Kaldur clicked his tongue in warning. “(Y/N), I think you almost got Kaldur to burst into flames that time,” Artemis chuckled softly.

“One down. Now I just need to get Wally,” you laughed. Wally frowned, unamused. Dick bit his lip to stop himself from snickering.

Dick and Wally kept crawling on. Artemis and Kaldur found another lab, but this time with incubators in it. Dick and Wally only found the living quarters.

“I don’t like the look of these labs, Rob,” Wally mumbled as they stopped at another vent only to find an empty hallway.

“At least we can stay whelmed by the fact it doesn’t look like they are using them currently,” Dick said, holding up a hand when footsteps came down the hallway. Wally and Dick fell quiet. The footsteps were heavy and echoing. Dick frowned. Kobra’s soldiers were usually light on their feet.

Suddenly, the footsteps revealed lizard men. They were huge, muscle bound with thick tails. Walking on two legs, they only were wearing loincloths. “We found something,” Wally whispered into the comm.

“Sex dungeon?” you asked with a giggle.

“Almost.” Dick tapped the side of his mask, sending you an image of the lizard men. You whistled. “Everyone be on alert.”

“We found some too. Ours are eating...raw meat,” Kaldur said. He sounded a little sick. Honestly, Dick couldn’t blame him.

You hummed. “So Kaldur, you didn’t find anything like this at the Bludhaven place, right?”

“No. Nothing like this. It was only a storage facility.” Kaldur’s voice softened. “Artemis and I will go on radio silence for now. We will see if we can find more info in the lab we found.”

Dick and Wally tensed as the lizard men stopped right below them and stood against the walls of the corridor. “You know, those loincloths are very tiny. Must not be much under there,” you said.

Wally choked, eyes wide as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dick swallowed back a laugh. He knew Wally had probably been thinking the same thing.

“You got Wally,” Dick whispered.

“Amazing. Two for two,” you laughed. “In all seriousness, be careful. They probably have good hearing.”

Dick nodded. “Will do.” He clicked off the comm as he and Wally got comfortable, waiting to see what the lizard men were going to do.

***

It turned out, much to Dick’s dismay, that the lizard men had very good hearing. Dick held his stomach as he rolled onto his back. He turned his head to see Wally and Artemis unconscious. The lizard men found Kaldur and Artemis first. Dick and Wally moved to help them before getting caught themselves.

Dick looked around. He remembered being dragged by his foot into another room. The floor felt soft under him. He recognized the ceiling as the training room they found earlier.

“Do what you will with us, but know the Justice League is on their way,” Kaldur said calmly. Dick turned his head, blinking in surprise. Kaldur was facing down one of the lizard men. The lizard man just flicked his tongue at him before pushing Kaldur to the ground.

Dick acted like he was going to scratch his ear, but tapped his comm to signal you.

“What’s up?” You sounded calm, yet slightly bored.

“SOS,” Dick coughed, rolling out of the way as a lizard man almost stomped on him.

“I know. Help is on the way once I can figure out how to fly this damn thing. Bioship, be nice to me, huh?” you said through the comm.

Kaldur grabbed Dick and pulled him out of the way of a charging lizard man. “You noticed Kobra disappeared?” Dick said, checking the room only to see lizard men.

“Yes.” Kaldur grabbed his water bearers. “(Y/N), call for back up,” Kaldur said into the comm.

“Back up is incoming.” Your voice sounded so confident. Dick felt slightly worried. “Tell the lizards to keep their loincloths on.”

“Oh boy,” Dick said. Dick and Kaldur stood back to back, preparing to fight off the lizards. Artemis stirred a few feet away and went over to pull Wally out of the harm’s way. She tapped his cheeks and tried to bring him around.

Kaldur and Dick tensed, ready for the first attack before an explosion shook the building. “You may want to take cover,” you warned. Dick and Kaldur shared a look before sprinted over to Artemis and Wally. Both of them dragged them behind a set of barbells as the far wall boomed to reveal the Bioship with cannons out.

“This is the cops. Drop to your knees and please keep the loincloths on because no one wants to see lizard dick today, thank you.” Your voice boomed throughout the building.

“I didn’t know Bioship had a PA system,” Artemis mumbled in surprise. Kaldur’s face fell into his hands. His ears were bright red.

Dick chuckled. “I bet (Y/N) asked Bioship to make one.” You were so cool. A thrill shivered down Dick’s spine.

The lizards didn’t drop, so you opened fire. All the lizards were down in a few seconds. Stunned, not dead. Dick whistled. He reminded himself never to play Call of Duty with you. You would probably snipe him before he could even breathe.

“Justice League should be here ‘in a flash’ according to the Flash,” you said through the comms. Dick could hear the laughter in your voice.

Kaldur cleared his throat. “Thank you, (Y/N). Although, watch your language next time.”

Wally moaned, sitting up with Artemis’ help. “Lizard dicks. I can’t believe they said lizard dicks.”

Artemis snorted before bursting out laughing. Dick joined her, unable to stop himself. He heard you laughing with them through the comm. Even Kaldur smiled and rolled his eyes. Dick knew your loudness and potty mouth weren’t for everyone, but he loved it because it was so you.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #robin #robin x reader #robin imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #young justice imagines #young justice #yj imagines #swearing #richard grayson #richard grayson x reader #richard imagine #halloween

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ereardon · 7 months

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Golden Hour || Ch. 3 [Bob Floyd x Bradley Bradshaw x OC]

A Bob Floyd & Bradley Bradshaw AU [Hart of Dixie inspired]

Synopsis: Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x OC; Bradley Bradshaw x OC

Tropes: Love triangle, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol

Chapter summary: Olive and Bradley flirt; Bob leaves the bar with a local, sparking an interesting conversation about his love life; Olive goes to meet Dr. Floyd Sr

WC: 3K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

In New York, you had been somebody. A flashy doctor at a world renowned hospital.

Perhaps more impressively: you had been Peter’s fiancé. That was the golden ticket to popularity in the hospital. And the hospital was your world. There wasn’t time for anything else.

Willow was more of a shock than you had expected. In every way.

It wasn’t just that there was only one restaurant and one supermarket that also doubled as the tailor. It wasn’t that you couldn’t walk everywhere easily the way you had in the city, or that DoorDash was an unheard of phenomenon or that the closest thing you could get to Blue Bottle coffee was a canned tea at the Piggy Wiggly forty minutes away.

It was the fact that people were friendly. Well, to each other. You were still the outsider that they were wary of.

Everyone except Bradley Bradshaw.

Ever since that night at the market, Bradley had been popping into the clinic, bringing a second iced tea with him or complaining of a headache. He had long been a patient of Bob’s, but he switched to you without a second thought.

“I’m going to have to report you to the Georgia Board of Law Examiners,” you said as Bradley sat up, buttoning his shirt. You sat on a rolling stool at his feet wearing a pair of dauntingly tall heels, a black sheath dress and your white lab coat.

“Oh yeah?” he said, smirking. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you’re lying about being sick to have an excuse to see me,” you countered. “And I thought that would be against your oath as an attorney.”

“Joke is on you because we don’t take an oath.” Bradley finished buttoning his shirt and tucking it into his gray slacks. You didn’t allow yourself to look too long. He looked too good in his outfit and you had a reason for turning him down. You had to get over Peter, and despite what some of your college roommates used to say, the best way to get over someone was in fact not to get under someone else.

You shook your head, trying to toss the image of being under Bradley out of your mind. “Well, counselor, you are, unfortunately, perfectly healthy. No risk of alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency. By the way, how did you self diagnose that?”

“The internet is more than just good porn now,” he replied.

You looked up with amusement. “Don’t you have clients to tend to?”

Bradley shifted forward, long legs brushing the ground. You could practically feel the heat from his leg and he was only a few inches away from where you sat on your stool. “What are they gonna do?” he asked. “Sue me? I’m the only lawyer in town.”

You laughed, standing up and shaking your head. “Come on, Bradshaw. I have other patients to see. Should I have Molly book you for an appointment tomorrow, say three pm? Something about the bubonic plague?”

You opened the door, sliding one hand over it, standing halfway through the doorway. Bradley grinned, stepping forward until the two of you were chest to chest in the doorway. His brown eyes locked on yours and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at you so intensely it felt like your skin was going to melt off.

And then there was a cough. You both looked up. Bob stood holding a paper chart in his hand, a look of disappointment across his slender face. Bradley took another step out into the hall, running his hand over his hair.

“Floyd,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“Bradley,” Bob replied coldly. “Are you ill? I didn’t see you on my schedule.”

“No, I, uh—”

“He has the plague,” you chipped in.

Bob frowned. “He what?”

Bradley hid a laugh and you couldn’t help but crack a grin. The crabby look on Bob’s face made it all worth it. “Ice it for ten minutes and then one pint of ice cream before bed, not a third like the package instructs.”

Bradley raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“For your broken heart,” you added and his eyes widened with realization and mirth. “Since, you know, you’re in love with me and all.”

“See you later, doc.” He ambled down the hallway and out the front door. You watched him appreciatively, the way he moved was like a slow dance to no music.

When the door shut, you turned around, Bob’s eyes hot on you. He scowled and ducked into his office. You caught Molly’s eye from the desk. She shook her head, lips pressed into a tight frown, and sat down. You sighed. “Mrs. Meyer,” you called out, looking at the name from the next chart in the hanging cabinet next to your door. “Please come on back.”

***

At night, Breakers Cafe turned into a bar. It made sense, it was the only place in the entire town, although unlike everything else that was so central to town, including the office, Breakers was out in the woods down a dirt road.

You sat at the bar, sipping a glass of really terrible Chardonnay.

“Bad?” Phoenix leaned one tanned elbow on the counter.

“Awful,” you replied.

“You’ll drink it and you’ll like it,” she said with a smirk and you shook your head, grinning, taking another sip. It had been two weeks in Willow, and Phoenix was growing on you. You ate breakfast at the main house with her every day before she left for Breakers and you made your way to the office.

You were even falling into place with the practice. Molly’s chill had worn off a little and you had helped a few patients in a pinch. Some trusted you from the flu epidemic where Bob had been absent.

Bob was the only person still giving you the big freeze.

“Vodka soda!”

You turned automatically toward the drunk, shrill voice. Macy, the girl from your first morning in Willow. Then, you had felt on edge. An outsider with no understanding of what you were doing. Now, you had the upper hand. Macy’s blonde bangs were sticking to her forehead with sweat and her dress clung to her body tightly but in a haphazard way that you knew she was drunk.

After a moment, she realized you were sitting next to her at the bar. “Oh my Lord, Dr. James?”

You smiled. “Olive, please.”

Phoenix set a fresh vodka soda down in front of her. “Bless you, Natasha!”

You looked over. “Natasha?”

“Don’t get me started.”

Macy took a sip, pivoting her body to face you. “Dr. James, the big New York doctor. I didn’t think you’d last a week let alone two.”

“How kind of you.”

She tipped her head back in a laugh. “I’m drunk.”

“I noticed.”

She squinted. “What is this I hear about you and Bradley Bradshaw?”

You frowned. “What?”

“Oh, honey, the whole town is talking up a storm that apparently Bradley comes to your office three times a week.”

“Well he’s a hypochondriac,” you replied, taking another sip of wine and wincing. “Besides, why does the town care?”

Macy tossed her head back in a laugh. A huge, rolling laugh that filled the space around both of your bodies. “This is a small town, Dr. James.” Her eyes were glassy from alcohol. “Everyone is watching you. Just you wait.”

“For what?” you asked, just as the doors whipped open. To your shock, Bob Floyd entered the room, turning almost instinctively toward where you and Macy sat at the bar. He caught your eye immediately, holding it for a few seconds as he crossed the room.

But then Macy trapped him. She had her ass and back pressed against the wooden bar, arms spread wide on either side of her, lips twisted up in a pout. They were far enough away that you couldn’t hear what Bob said to her as he looked down, whispering. Macy reached up one hand, gripping his tie, tugging him in closer, until they were boxed in on each other, one of Bob’s hands on the bar behind Macy, his eyes staring into hers deeply.

“What are they saying?” you whispered to Phoenix who also had her eyes glued on Bob and Macy at the end of the bar. But the music was loud enough and there were a few bodies milling around the bar that you couldn’t make out a single word they said.

She shrugged. “Who knows?”

The two of you watched as Macy ran her hands up Bob’s tie, his grip on the bar tightening. He spoke to her quietly, her eyes never leaving his, until he straightened himself, pushing off of the bar. Macy dropped her hand and Bob placed one hand on her mid back, steering her toward the door. He opened the door and led her out, but not before turning around and catching your eye. There was something in the way he looked at you.

Almost like regret.

And then he was gone, the two of them swallowed by the darkness outside Breakers.

You grabbed your glass and drained it. “What the fuck was that?”

“Macy has had a thing for Bob since we were kids,” Phoenix explained.”Also she drinks.”

You laughed. “That explains it then.”

Phoenix studied you. After a moment she added, “He’ll warm up to you.”

“Doubtful,” you replied, pushing the glass toward her. “He likes me as much as people from Queens like the Yankees.”

“You’re losing me, babe.”

“He hates me,” you clarified.

Phoenix tipped more wine into your empty glass. “Bob doesn’t hate anyone,” she said. “Besides, you work together. He’ll have to get used to you, one day.”

You lifted the glass to your lips. “Sooner rather than later,” you huffed. “I’m tired of him stabbing me with his eyes every time I go out into the waiting room.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “Wear longer skirts and maybe he won’t feel so self-conscious that you’re going to steal his patients.”

You laughed and Phoenix sauntered away, headed down the bar toward another customer. You turned and gazed out the door where Bob and Macy had disappeared only minutes before. There was a sourness on your tongue that you couldn’t place.

***

You knocked a second time, shifting from foot to foot, trying to balance in your tall heels with an arm full of flowers and a pastry bag.

Finally, the door swung open. You were surprised to see Bob Floyd standing in the doorway, but he looked more than surprised.

“Dr. James,” he said gruffly, eyebrows raised. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Dr. Floyd,” you replied. “Wanted to thank him for hiring me. And since I’ve been here for almost a month I thought it was time I stopped by.”

“My father is quite sick,” Bob said quietly. “Not sure if he’s up for company.”

“Oh,” you said awkwardly. “Can I at least drop these off for him?” you asked, looking down at the flowers in your hand, and a bag of black and white cookies you had ordered from New York.

“Bobby, don’t be rude.” A voice emerged from the shadows and you laid your eyes on Dr. Robert Floyd Sr. for the first time. He was tall, but thin, white hair swept back and a smile on his face that dimpled his cheeks. “Dr. James, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Please, come in. Ignore my son, he’s being a bit of a putz.”

You laughed.

“Bobby,” Dr. Floyd said, “help the girl out, will you?”

Bob stepped forward, accepting the flowers into his hands. His fingertips brushed your bare arm and you looked up. His blue eyes were hard, but they were locked in on you. “Thanks,” you whispered as Bob scooped the flowers out of your arms. He held out his free hand for the cookie bag and you handed it over.

“No problem,” Bob said, turning and disappearing down the hallway.

You stood in the entryway with a cautious smile.

Dr. Floyd waved one wrinkled hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Bobby will grab us some iced tea. Close the door, will you?”

You shut the front door, following Dr. Floyd down the hallway and into the back sunroom. The house was beautiful, all dark wood and lined with pictures from national parks. You spotted at least five photos of a young Bob Floyd, including one of him in his medical school graduation robes next to what you could only assume were his parents.

“My wife Celine,” Dr. Floyd Sr. said when he caught you staring at the photo. “She died a year after that. I never remarried.”

“I’m so sorry,” you replied.

“We had forty seven great years together,” he said with a smile. “It wasn’t enough, but it’ll do. Here, take a seat.”

He pointed to a sofa against the far wall and you sat down as Dr. Floyd settled into a chair opposite you.

“How is Willow treating you so far?”

You sighed. How to answer that question? In the kitchen, Bob was fussing with the flowers and cookies. “It’s an adjustment,” you said finally.

He laughed. It was deep and throaty and it made you smile. You liked him immediately.

You leaned forward. “Dr. Floyd. Can I ask you a question?”

“Please, call me Robert.”

You smiled. “Robert. Why did you hire me?

He looked you up and down and then his gaze tipped over to the adjacent room where Bob was still puttering on the other side of the wall. “Because I knew you’d bring something we’ve been missing all this time. This town, our practice. And him.” He smiled. “I know my son. He has many strengths. But he has flaws, too.”

“And what do I bring to this?” you asked, curious. “Besides a lot of opinions on the right way to make a bagel.”

Robert leaned back. “Life, Dr. James,” he said softly. “For too long there’s been a shadow hanging above us. We needed someone fresh to breathe some life into things. To bring a new perspective.” He looked at the doorway where Bob was gathering a tray with iced tea. “He needs someone to push him.”

You frowned. “Push him?”

“He’s heartbroken,” Robert said quietly. “And it’s affecting his work. He has to figure out what brought him to medicine in the first place or else he’ll never truly love it again. He thinks life is only going to let him down.”

You opened your mouth to ask another question but Bob entered the room and you clammed up immediately. He put the tray down on the wooden coffee table. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing, son,” Robert said, leaning forward and Bob pressed a sweating glass of iced tea into his wrinkled palm. “Just catching up with the new doctor. She’s quite a spitfire, might give you a run for your money.”

“She is.” It came out so quiet and immediate that you couldn’t help but turn in shock. Bob took a sip of iced tea without looking at you. “Bradshaw already switched to her as his primary care physician.”

Robert laughed. “Now that is no surprise.”

You watched the easy interaction between father and son. It was clear how much Bob loved his father. He was always there, preempting Robert’s movements: putting a coaster down before his glass could hit the table, angling the fan so it perfectly drifted in his father’s direction, even spotting when Robert had yawned two times before making a polite suggestion that it was getting late.

You held out a hand at the door.

“It was lovely to meet you, Dr. Floyd,” you said and you meant it.

“Robert,” he replied.

“Olive.”

Robert smiled. “Well, Olive, I look forward to seeing what you do with my office. No funny movie posters, I hope. That Woody Allen shit.”

“No guarantees, sir.”

He grinned, patting Bob on the back as he drifted back into the house. It was just you and Bob standing in the doorway. The sun had drifted beyond the tree line, leaving the sky tinted pink.

“Thank you,” you said. “For letting me in, even when you didn’t want to.”

“I didn’t not want to, Olive,” Bob said. It was perhaps the first time he said your name unprompted. Not Dr. James, but Olive. “I just worry about him.”

“He’s stronger than you think.”

“He’s stubborn is what he is.”

“Well don’t you wonder where you got it from?” That elicited the smallest upturn in Bob’s lips. You grinned. “Anyways, I should get going.”

“Do you need me to walk you to your car?”

You laughed. “Oh wait, were you serious?” You pointed to the BMW parked twenty feet away. “That’s me.”

“It’s good manners, Olive.”

You shook your head. “I’ve ridden a bike through Alphabet City in the middle of the night,” you said. “I’m not scared of fifteen feet of sidewalk in Willow.”

“Well then.” Bob placed one hand against the doorframe. “Goodnight.”

You nodded. “Goodnight, Bob.”

He watched as you slid into the seat of your car, turning the ignition and backing down the driveway.

Bob watched as you slipped down the road, toward the horizon. Even long after he was out of your rearview mirror, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his eyes were still on you, waiting until you were home safe to finally go inside, lock his door, turn off the porch lamp.

The next morning, you woke up excited to go to work, for the first time since you moved to Willow. Maybe you were finally getting somewhere with Dr. Bob Floyd.

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nailtagyuri · 10 months

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Just Not's Burger King Bonanza

fics done! ao3 is cyberbullying me specifically so im posting it under cut until they reopen account registrations ^_^ [EDIT THEY DID YOU CAN CHECK IT OUT HERE GO GO GO!!] thanks to @/klonoadoortophantomile for reading the initial drafts!

If you need something here tagged as a trigger warning, please contact me via ask! This fic contains depictions of real life political figures, occasional graphic violence, and YURI!!! *thunder clap*

Morning descended upon the bathrooms-turned-hotel where TPOT was once held. The sun shone over the horizon and its light crept through the dust-covered windows, into the already noisy cafeteria smack-bang at the bottom of the tall building. Even if Two's "mandatory mealtimes" had ended along with the gameshow itself, the cafeteria still flourished as a regular gathering area for social interaction, at least to those who could manage a consistent sleep schedule.

Price Tag spotted their designated black and yellow table, where they always sat along with the rest of team-turned-friend group Just Not. They walked up to it, quietly asking Cake if he could move so they could take the window seat. He obliged. He knew Taggy liked absorbing the sunlight.

They :]'d comfortably as they eyed their companions. Book, Nickel, Cake and Bomby were eating with them this morning. Naily was still in bed and Pillow was probably also asleep, what with the obvious. They were glad the two had more time to rest than when they had things to wake up for, but a part of them missed the way Naily would sleepily stumble towards their table each morning, mumbling sweet incomprehensibles as she shuffled next to them and lazily rested on their "shoulder". Oh, how she struggled to stay awake in the brief moment before she guzzled down her dangerously acidic energy drink and shot straight up, bright and alert. But enough about her. They could talk to her later.

"So," Taggy perked, "What's been up with all of you?" "Crunklybrunkly zooper dooper," Nickel groaned, "don't even get me STARTED on this horrid excuse for a foodish substance." Price Tag saw Two cover their mouth with their paws from the other side of the room. They seemed extremely hurt. Nobody audibly got Nickel started but he kept complaining anyway. "Like, what's it supposed to be, melted yoylemetal?" He poked his dish, a gray, gelatinous, rectangular blob. It jiggled against his fork.

"I'd say it's Tofu," Book proposed as she took a bite of her salad. "Black bean. It's a bit gray, though. You should try it, anyway, if you want." "They don't call it gray bean, Book." Nickel rolled his eyes, sarcastically. Cake slid in. "You feeling alright, Nickel? You're not usually this grumpy." "WRONG ONE!?" Shouted Bomby, who gripped his head with his hands in sudden fright. "No, no, I'm not an impostor, I swear!" Nickel replied. "Ugh, sorry everyone. Just I wish the stuff we ate was… fine-er. The food Two makes is kinda mid."

"THE FOOD I MAKE FOR FREE, NICKEL?!" Two boomed from next to him. Nickel fell back in his seat, startled. His foot slammed his plate, launching the substance high into the air and directly onto his face. Everyone stopped for a moment to process what had happened. "Oh golly!" Book cried. "Your tofu…" "Uhh, ground sevruga, actually," Two corrected, raising their finger up nerdishly. "Only five spoons of one of the most expensive kinds of caviar on the market, condensed into a chunky rectangular delight and nuked in a microwave for 62 seconds. Better learn to eat it up, Nickel, the black sea can't provide these delicious tastes forever!" They walked away, smugly.

There was a brief silence, aside from Nickel's slurping. Taggy raised an eyebrow, astounded that a simple 'hello' could lead to such malarkey. "The heck did any of that mean?" They exclaimed. "Any of what mean?" Naily perked her lips to imitate Taggy's ,':{ as she walked up to the table. Upon seeing her, Price Tag's confused expression quickly morphed into a joyous :3. They felt their string begin to wag in excitement. It unconsciously thumped against the empty spot next to them repeatedly as if to gesture where she should sit.

Naily saw this and laughed. "Oh wow, so many choices," she teased. "I can barely decide." She crouched down before launching herself into a frontflip, barreling over the table and stabbing clean into her designated spot. "Nailed it!" She shouted, triumphantly. The rest at the table clapped. She pulled herself out and quickly grabbed her meal the others had been saving for her, unwrapping it hungrily and biting into it without thinking to take off the pickles. It was a cheeseburger, its buns dyed such an eye-burning tone of hot pink Taggy wondered how they hadn't lost sight just looking at it. Naily called it the 'Girlburger'. "But really," Naily asked as she took another bite, "what's going on, buddy? I heard someone scream from upstairs."

They turned to her slightly and explained what had happened. "I don't even know what cabby car is!" Nickel exclaimed through his loaf. "Hmm…" Naily put a paw on her chin thoughtfully, taking in all the information. "I think…" she spoke in a hushed tone, widening her eyes. The others moved in. "it's from the viewers' world."

Everyone gasped. Nobody among them had eaten food from, let alone seen the viewers' world in person before. Only Teardrop had gone when she was sent for a challenge, and they were extremely hesitant to discuss her findings. "That's nonsense!" Book cried. "Sorry, I mean… Naily, Two's a really thoughtful host, but are you sure they'd venture out to such uncharted lands just to make breakfast for Nickel, of all people?" Naily shrugged. "Yeah." "It'd make sense," Taggy chimed in. "They still have some of their limitless power, right? If they used it to easily come here from their home planet, maybe they could easily go from here to the viewers' world."

"Yeah!" Supported Cake. "Maybe they just like to travel, and that was, like, a souvenir." Nickel sat up. "Why don't we go there?" He asked, casually. "Y'know, see more food like this. It'd be a nice change of pace from all the Dragons and Dragons and Dragons campaigns." "You mean you liked it?" Asked Book. "Oh no, it was disgusting." He replied. "I just want more of it." "Oh. Well, that's a bit of a strange mentality- wha, wait a minute! We can't go! Are you insane?! We don't know what's out there!" She grabbed Nickel out of fear. "Well if Two can make it back in one piece," grinned Naily as she stood on the table, "then so can we, the 7th greatest team this side of Goiky! And I think I know just the guy who can help us…"

"I can't help you." Said Winner, dryly. "L." Shouted Price Tag, making a >:L. Naily grew upset. "But Winner, you're the only one with limitless power who isn't mad at us!" She pleaded. "Dontcha have a heart?" Winner frowned, slightly. She was right. Winner, after defeating Marker in a rather anti-climatic boxing match, had prophetically won the Power of Two and subsequently the grand prize. Being carried episode after episode through their loyal voterbase was a kind gesture, they knew that. If everyone was that nice, surely they'd be nice enough to not instantly kill a whole team with a woodchipper, right?

The thought of woodchippers reminded them of the British Exterminator Incident of '24, and they cringed. They shook their head. "I'm sorry, guys, it's dangerous territory out there, and I don't think you'd all fare well with that kind of responsibility. There's a good chance that if I let you lot go, you won't come back." They put their arm on their hip and closed their eyes affirmitively. Most of the group groaned. "THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!" Cried Book.

Taggy slid up to them. "C'mon, Winner, ol' buddy, ol' pal, ol' winner winner chicken dinner, you know I'd give you that kinda freedom if I were in your shoes!" "No you wouldn't." "Fair enough," they turned around and walked off. "THINK OF ALL THE FOOD!" Bomby cried. Nickel's eyes lit up. "Yeah!" He perked, as he scooched up to the defiant Winner. "Maybe they even have… purple tomatoes." Winner opened one eye. "The kind Two made for me back in the first episode?" They whispered. Nickel looked away playfully. "Perhaps."

Outside the hotel, Winner prepared to open a portal, waving their hand around slowly. "You guys owe me a real one." They said. "I'd get into a lot of trouble if Two found out I were using their powers to do this kinda stuff." Nickel got goosebumps. He and Two already weren't on good terms. "Oh, Winner, I'm sure we'll be okay!" Assured Cake. "So long as we don't, y'know… get lost. Or killed." Winner frowned. "Cake, you're a sweet guy, you don't have to be a part of this." He blushed slightly at the compliment. "No, no, really, we'll be fine! Book already told me all about how she escaped Evil Leafy, this should be no problem for her. Right, Book?" He turned to face her.

"Yeah, you could say so…" Book rubbed her arm nervously. Memories of her antics inside Evil Leafy were fuzzy after the 53rd puzzle or so, but from what she could recall she wasn't nearly as careful as Cake thought. Pits of spike and lava layered every corner of the dungeon and each obstacle grew more and more difficult for her to avoid; gruesome ends and embarrassing slip-ups were all too common and death became expected rather than feared, but at least back there she had some form of recovery. Who knew what this higher realm had to offer?

Winner shut their eyes as they began to conjure up the portal. Sparks flickered on their fingers as they moved hypnotically, a bright ball of energy starting to form on their rippling palm, flashing green and purple rapidly as it grew in size. The others looked on in amazement, gazing into the light as if they were challenging God to a staring contest. Naily, failing to break her stare, shuffled up on top of Bomby to cover up his fuse with her paws, in case a rogue flare set it on fire and blew him up. Besides the obvious, the last thing they needed was a loud explosion to draw attention to themselves, as if the electric crackling wasn't doing that already.

Winner clutched the ball with their fist. "So where are we going anyway?" Asked Nickel, choosing the worst time to ask a question. "Wh- I don't know!" Hissed Winner, hastily. "On the map, it looks kind of like a foot, if that helps!" They moved their arm back to aim. "You might wanna cover your ears…"

Two shuffled through their wardrobe, looking through their accessories before finding a large pink bow at the bottom of the pile. They brushed off the dust and slowly put it on, staring up at it to make sure it didn't fall. "How do I look?" They asked. Gaty finished her boba, slurping the contents at the bottom of the cup. "Absolutely fabulous," she complimented. "It suits you really well!" They smiled. Leave it to Gaty to give them a confidence boost. They sat down next to her, sipping their drink as they started to relax. "So what's been going on with Nickel?" Two groaned. "Ugh. It just feels like he doesn't care about all the effort I put in for everyone. He just casually criticizes my cooking like it's nothing, like I do it out of some sort of obligation! Like, I don't have to stay here, if I really didn't care I would've just up and left years ago! Why can't he see that?"

"Hmm." She thought for a moment. "Well, if I were you I'd show him the process of actually cooking the food rather than just giving it to him. It's easier for him to insult your creation because all he's seeing is the stuff on the plate, and not the hard work behind it, if that makes sense." Two swirled their tea like a wine glass. "Hmm… well, I guess it does. I'll see if it-"

The room suddenly shook violently, like a bomb had gone off and decimated one of the hotel's floors. The quaking lunged Two back in their seat, their drink splashing in their face and staining their bow. Whipped cream splutted like a cream pie in a circus act. "Oh shoot!" Gaty exclaimed. She stood up, hastily opening the closet. "You want me to grab a cloth, or some paper towels, or somethi-" She stopped when she turned back to look at them. She didn't know if their face had turned red from the sprinkles or the unbridled anger burning within them. It wouldn't take long for her to find out.

Winner stared at the portal, eyeing it to make sure everybody would fit, before hearing a flurry of muffled yet very loud curses from upstairs. "That's not good."

"RUN!" Shrieked Naily, speeding into the portal like a mouse into a hole. Taggy followed suit, then Nickel, then Bomby, then Cake. Book trailed last but stopped inches away from the portal, still extremely hesitant. "I-I can't decide! It just doesn't feel right yet!" Winner telekenetically floated some parts toward them. "Well you're gonna have to be quick if you wanna join the other five, I need to cover this up!" Book stared back at the deep, whirling maw before her… wait, did they say other five? There weren't only five other people on Just Not!

"PILLOW!" Cried Book. She'd forgotten all about her! Her heart sank. Pillow was already a hazard with her teammates around, who knows what would happen if she were left alone? She ran back up to Winner. "Winner I need you to throw me up to Pillow's room so I can take her with me!" "Huh? Book, I really don't have the time…" "You have to! Th- the lives of the contestants are at stake!" "…Book, are you going to go or-" "THROW ME!" She snapped, overpowering anything Winner had said or would say.

Book barrelled through the window into Pillow's room. Her eyes dashed around the pastel walls and contrastingly bloody splatters before spotting her, to her left. She appeared to be polishing an inanimate object of some kind. "Pillow, you have to co-" "I don't have a weapon," Pillow said, calmly. She snuck whatever she had in her sheets before turning around, giving a suspiciously contented smile. Book stared. "…Uh huh. Pillow, you have to come with me!" She grabbed her and leapt back out the window, instantly regretting not thinking things through. "Are we playing Yoylebungee again?" Asked Pillow, naively. "You forgot the rope." Book screamed her lungs out as the two fell down, down, down… Winner rushed to catch them both in their hand, throwing them in the portal just in time for them to close it off.

Two stomped around the corner. "WHAT IS GOING ON- Oh." They stopped in their tracks when they saw Winner, resting their arm against a vending machine shakily. The discomfort in their wide, crooked smile could be seen from a mile away. It created an uncomfortable vibe topped off by their worried, dilating eyes and furrowing brows. The air whistled between the two for a good few seconds, leaving silence so loud you could hear their muscles contract.

"Oh, hey Two, didn't see you there," Winner spoke hastily as they paced toward them, "sorry if I made a racket, darn vending machines stealing your money, rah! rah! rah! Really tests your temper, don't it?" They nudged the number slightly with their hand, "Hahaha, I suppose you'll be leaving now." Two waved their hands in front of them. "Wait wait wait, it stole your money?" They noted. Winner's pupils shrunk. "Oh, uhh, Two, you really don't have to-" "Well why didn't you just say something? I'd be happy to help you get it back!" Before they could get a sentence out, Two was already inspecting the vending machine for issues. "Let's see here… ew, five dollars for vanilla Dr. Fizz?" They rolled their eyes. "Stop." Winner cringed. When this was over they were gonna be owed enough favors to speedrun ten birthdays.

Book felt her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur, her surroundings morphing into an abstract mush of colors and simple shapes. Her head was swimming in a pool of nausea and stress. Had it been a dream? Could all this talk of portals and higher worlds be blamed on unconscious neurons firing alone? Naily stood over her, frowning worriedly. "Gee whiz, are you okay?" Book groaned as she slowly rubbed her temple with her paws. Her head throbbed against their eyes so much she felt like they were going to pop out. Pillow rushed over to her. "Perhaps she's dead. Book, are you dead? Say 'yes' if you're dead." Book sat up, mumbling to herself. "AH! ZOMBIE!" Cried Bomby, as he grabbed a rusty hammer from beside him and swung hysterically. "ZOMBIEEEEEEEE!"

"BOMBY I'M ALIVE!" Shrieked Book, widening her eyes. She slumped over, eyelids squinting as she blinked repeatedly. "I'm alive," she clarified. "I'm awake… where are we?" Cake looked around. The seven were surrounded by large, worn-down buildings, covered with graffiti and offensive etchings. An opening in front of them gave way to what looked like a street; that and the blisteringly bright sun above them were the only sources of light in what was otherwise a dark open tunnel. He certainly didn't want to be here at night. "Looks like…" "It's an alleyway." Pillow interrupted. "I didn't know we were going to the real world." Book stood up. "No, the real world is back- whatever. We've seen it. Can we go home now?!" "What? No way!" Nickel perked. "We only just got here, let's have a look around!"

NO!" She shouted. "Err, uhh, I mean, what about all the fun things we can do here in the alleyway? Like calculating the total worth of all of its many things!" "Three dollars," answered Price Tag, who represented the value on their face. "Hahahaha, that helps!" Book lied, glaring at them. "or, we could play Interdimensional Red Rover! I'll start." She made a mad dash for the portal, speeding forward and crashing into the back of a machine.

Book felt her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur, her surroundings morphing into an abstract mush of colors and simple shapes.

Pillow was quick to interrupt her reverie, grabbing her and flipping her back into a standing position. "That's better," she hummed. Book was dazed but at least she was still conscious. "Urgh… Wait, what am I still doing here!?" She cried as her gaze met the portal. She fixated particularly on the giant contraption blocking her path. "Wh- what's THAT doing here?! Why is this happening!?"

"Your companions probably punished you for not following the rules," Pillow assumed. "They didn't even call you on over." "They didn't even call her on over," Naily whispered to Taggy. She walked up to the portal and threw a lone pebble at it. It banged off the back of the machine and flew threw a window. "Yup, that's blocking us off alright." "So we're trapped?!" Cake yelped, fearfully. Price Tag attempted to comfort him. "Aww, don't say that, Cake! I'd say it's more like very heavy encouragement to stay." "That's all we really can do, isn't it…" Cake conceded.

The group was silent for a moment. "Well…" Naily lingered as she raised a paw. "The only missed shot you can shoot is an unshooted shot, ain't it?" She started walking off, Price Tag following close behind. The others shrugged, following in her footsteps. Book was so distracted trying to interpret Naily's phrase that by the time she could muster up a response, she and the rest of the group had already left.

Book paced up to them, "Wait, you're all just leaving?" She cried. "You can't! Shouldn't you try and break the wall down, or something? We're gonna get lost!" "Don't worry, we'll go back," Price Tag assured. "We're just exploring first!" "No. Taggy, no! This isn't as simple as 'exploring', we have no idea what this place looks like, or where everything is, or how big everything is, if we lose sight of this alleyway we won't find our way back and we'll lose EVERYTHING! Cake, you just got back with Loser after years of not seeing each other and now you're willing to abandon him?!" The color began to drain from his face. Guilt began to wash over him. "Well…"

Naily stepped forward to interject. "Book, you couldn't even break it down with your full body weight. Would you rather invest all your time in a lost cause or use what time you have in this new world to take a risk? Look," she flipped Book open to tear off a blank page, "You can scribble important information down on this and when we find something that can break down the structure, we'll go back! It solves itself!" Book sighed as she rubbed her temple. If she was so sure... "I really hope you know what you're doing. Do you have a pen?"

Just Not walked casually through the street, Book sketching important details and sign names on her pages in case they got lost. Cake was quick to notice how uncanny all of this world's inhabitants looked: their faces had strange lumps beneath their mouths and eyes, and odd, patterned shapes on both sides of their heads. He assumed these were arms. Almost all of them towered over the group, some taller than Bomby and Book combined. Their eyes were rich with detail and color, almost all of them staring back at Cake with an atmosphere of judgement and suspicion.

He felt his cheeks turn pink. Did they hate him? Did he do something wrong? He'd clearly done something wrong. Why else would they keep looking at him?! "Looks like these guys haven't seen an object before," Naily hummed, derailing his train of thought. "Everyone looks so… same-ey." Nickel whispered. "How do they tell each other apart?" Cake sighed. At least his friends were somewhat on the same page, even if they didn't completely share his mindset.

"This place doesn't look like it has what we're looking for," observed Pillow. "Well maybe we just need to dive deeper!" Taggy eyed the crowd and picked whoever they thought was nicest. They scuttered up to them, making a ^.^ and striking a kind pose. "'Scuse me, sir! Me and my buddies were just looking for some caviar, and you look like the kinda guy who'd know their stuff about that."

"I don't," they replied, briskly. "Ah, well, we've all got room to learn. But could ya redirect us to someone who knows where we can find any? My gray weezerino over here could really go for some sevruga." They dragged Nickel towards them.

"Sevruga?" The man pondered. "Sounds Russian. You'll probably need a plane ticket, or something."

Nickel broke free from Taggy's grasp. "Does it cost money?" He said, playing along with Taggy's cool guy persona. "Because I happen to be pretty experienced in the field of things worth five cents or under, if you catch my drift."

The man was silent for a moment. "If you can't afford it, you can also drive," they muttered. "Through the sea. You'd have to hold your breath for a while, though."

Book cringed at the reminder. "Aaaaand that's where we'll end things for now! Thanks anyway!" She nudged Nickel, cueing everyone to speedwalk away.

The man was left with his thoughts. His inner monologue began to scold him. "Damn it, Barack, you should've gone with them. They seemed nice, even if they were cosplaying as random objects." He sighed as he pulled out a special red, white and blue senzu bean. You'd think a former president, let alone a Saiyan, would be better at talking to people, but here he was. Alone, and about as awkward as a worm in a spider club. "What an Obummer," he mumbled as he popped it in his mouth, letting the chemicals and sudden nutrition wash the regret and loneliness away.

Just Not walked for what seemed like ages, the ever-expanding list of turns, streets and stops growing harder and harder for Book to remember. Whatever part of the journey they were up to now, it certainly didn't look like the beginning. Most of the buildings now were more than two hotels high, a far cry from the quaint forts just a couple blocks back.

Book wondered if her team were actually serious about walking all the way out to the ocean just so they could go to this "Russia" place. Finally having enough, she decided to speak up. "Hey, guys, uhh… are we going to do anything other than walking while we're here?"

Pillow looked around, before catching something in the glimpse of her eye. "We can drive!" She chirped, pointing off to the distance. The others looked: a large, black vehicle stood before them. It was chunky, sleek, and surely big enough to fit everyone. It led a trail of multiple similar cars, all empty and parked in front of a beautiful hotel, one of the tallest in the street.

Book groaned. She had to start wording things better.

Price Tag inspected the vehicle. "Hmmm… doesn't look very seaworthy." "Plus, if we're going to steal it," Naily lowered her voice to a whisper, "we'd have to take out the guards first."

She pointed to two flags, waving proudly on the front end of the van. Nobody recognized either of them. Naily winked at Bomby, who raised a hand, gesturing everyone to stand back. The others were still, as he breathed in. He leapt forth, landing quietly in front of the trunk, before wiggling his fingers and slicing them through both flagpoles at once. The flags slid clean off, landing in his palms.

"THAT SHOULD BE BOTH OF THEM," He shrilled.

The others were impressed. Naily cheered eccentrically, whistling and wooing loudly like she'd just seen pigs fly. "Wasn't that the coolest thing you've ever seen!?" She yelled. "Alright, now let's get in the car!"

Everyone obliged, Naily hastily shuffling into the driver's seat and grabbing onto the wheel. "Oh, uhh, Naily, I think it would be better if I drive this time." Book cautioned, eyeing the pawless pedals. "Why's that?" Naily responded, smiling at her mindlessly. "Oh, it's just, y'know, I have…" She stopped herself before she could say "arms". She remembered a late night bar conversation she had with a very drunk Snowball, who was unfortunate enough to bring up that subject around her.

"It was terrifying," he moped as he chugged down another shot glass. "All I wanted was to join her team. I was nice. I did nothing wrong. I told them they seemed like nice people, even if they were weak and armless." His eyes widened with sorrow as they stared off into space. The memories hit him like a shovel, jabbing into the nerves of his emotions and digging tears out of his cold, almost dead eyes. "And then, out of nowhere…" He whined, his voice cracking in pitch. He turned to Book suddenly and grabbed her shoulders. "She owned me!" He cried, shaking her hysterically. Book could see the fear and vulnerability in his pupils as they dilated and shook. "She owned me! SHE OWNED ME! SHE OWNED ME, BOOK! I WAS OWNED! SHE OWNED ME!"

She didn't quite know what "owned" meant in this case, no matter how many times it was repeated. But if famous tough-guy Snowball was afraid to get on Naily's bad side, chances were Book should very much avoid that path as well.

"…a very strong drivers' spirit!" She finished. "Mine's stronger," Naily grinned. "C'mon, Price Tag, you take the pedals!" "On it!" They saluted, sitting comfortably beneath her. Book sighed as she moved to the back seat, while Bomby took passenger's. If anything went wrong she wouldn't be to blame.

After a bit of fumbling with the ignition and figuring out how four people would fit in two seats, the car started and the group were off. Nickel could barely make out someone glaring at them from inside the building, but he didn't care. This was a whole new experience for him! He shuffled his feet, making sure that they didn't damage Cake's frosting as he sat on top of him.

Book, meanwhile, sat directly in front of Pillow, whose arms wrapped around her in a spooning position. Pillow, ironically, was very passionate about keeping herself safe. She was the only one in the car, aside from Cake, who had strapped themselves in, and had even encouraged Book to share the seatbelt with her. She denied, nonetheless. She didn't need it on such a casual drive, and would hate to make either of them uncomfortable with a tight squeeze.

Naily stared at all the viewers, and they stared back. They'd been doing that a lot, hadn't they? Was it the van this time? She couldn't understand why it'd be such a spectacle to them, what with its all black coloring and rather uninteresting interior. Perhaps these viewers were just very easy to excite. Their brains would probably implode if they saw something with as much visual noise as the Freesmart Supervan, she thought.

Her brows quickly furrowed into a frown when she saw a series of billboards looming over the rest of the town. They all had the same image plastered over them: a creature, presumably a viewer, smiling smugly at the camera, in a confident, commanding pose. Underneath them, a series of stripes and a string of bolded, instructional text:

"Vote Ron DeSantis for presidential reelection, November 2028. A stronger government, a stronger America."

Naily scoffed. She hadn't even made it past her own team's first elimination, and here this guy was, plastering their mug everywhere trying to get people to vote for them twice? As if one victory wasn't enough? Something about it made her blood boil. It wasn't like their silly campaign would even work, anyway, none of the billboards even had letters or square brackets.

She saw some viewers in blue uniforms ripping a much smaller poster off a building: it had similar messaging, but the colors and figure looked different. Most likely it was endorsing someone else, encouraging viewers to vote for an opponent or a teammate. The blue uniformed viewers tore it off, ripping it to bits, before throwing what was left on the ground.

Whoever these contestants were the prize they were battling for must've been really elusive if it meant they were willing to hire their own personal goons. What prize could somehow be more enticing than limitless power? Why were these people so desperate to win it? Just a viewer thing, she guessed. As if object traditions were any less weird.

"So what do you all wanna do first?" Nickel inquired. "Ooh, let's see if they have a beauty salon!" Taggy smirked. "I'd personally LOVE to get my nails done." "That's funny," said Naily. "Thank you. But really, wasn't the plan to get something to eat?" "Didn't you hear the guy before?" Cake butted in. "The caviar we're looking for is probably 2763 canals away." "That doesn't mean we can't try something else!" Nickel replied. "Yeah! Let's see if they have any cool restaurants 'round here." As if on cue, Pillow looked out the window, immediately noticing a sign that stood out from the others. "How does Burger King sound?"

The rest of her team turned their attention to the restaurant. The bright and colorful branding of the logo enticed all of them. The word "burger" implied food, meat. A meal they could all share; the word "king" implied either medieval decadence or supremacy, as if the cooks here were the metaphorical kings of all burgers, delivering quality unmatched by any other chain.

"Don't mind if I do," Naily muttered under her breath as she turned the car around and moved into the Drive Thru. She knew how this kind of thing worked from her team's many late night visits to Gelatin's Steakhouse, but the experience of being in the driver's seat for once was almost surreal in a way. "So what do you all want?" She asked, flinching at the unnatural feeling of those words spilling out of her own mouth.

One by one, everyone listed off what they wanted. Being the only photosynthetic creature among them, Price Tag jokingly asked for a torch.

Naily rolled down the window and forwarded the message to the speaker, whose gritty and bitcrushed voice directed them to the next window. She did so, reaching what appeared to be the restaurant's kitchen and playing Where's Woody with her order as she stared through the window.

"Oh, there's other cooks. Do you want me to take care of them?" Asked Pillow, innocently. "No, it's fine." Naily replied, not knowing exactly what that meant. She tapped the wheel mindlessly as boredom began to set in. The group was left in awkward silence for a brief moment. "Let's listen to some music!" Pillow chimed in, again. She shoved Book off her and reached into the front seat, clicking the radio on. The scratchy, radical voice echoed through the car's walls. "And next up on our totally tubular 2000s throwback, 'This is Such a Pity' by Weezer!"

Pillow appeared to recognize the name, and showing more emotion in that moment than throughout the rest of the trip, she frowned slightly and clicked the radio back off. "Silence also has its perks." As awkwardness descended upon the vehicle, each member of Just Not silently waited for another to speak up, spark a conversation and break the tension.

"How would we kiss?" Price Tag inquired.

Naily raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What? M…me?" "Yeah," They looked up at her and smiled casually. "How would we kiss?" "Uhhh…" She was confused more than anything. Hadn't she already kissed them plenty of times before? "You mean…" She moved to give Price Tag a casual yet loving smooch on their forehead. They chuckled as their face began to warm slightly. They didn't expect her to demonstrate, but weren't complaining. "Oh, nah, heheheh, I mean more…" Their voice grew quiet. "more deeper than that, if that makes sense."

"Oh." Naily's face lit up. "OH, you mean, like, you wanna make out? Like…" She looked out the window, then back to them. "…like now?" They silently nodded, making a bashful <:].

She frowned, sympathetically. "Oh, Taggy, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but you don't exactly have a… 'mouth' mouth, do you? There's not much for me to work with…" They matched their expression, a disappointed :(. She was correct. Price Tag did technically have a mouth but it lacked any depth and couldn't be used for anything other than talking and making faces. The closest thing they could get to tasting anything was their antennae, which they used to drink water and absorb light energy for nutrition. Using that would be unbelievably awkward, though…

"If there isn't a way," they technically lied, "can we at least pretend?" Naily smiled. That she could do. Turning them down at this point would just be cruel. "Oh, alright," she grinned, playfully rolling her eyes. "C'mere." She pulled Price Tag towards her for a kiss. They let out an adorable EEK! as their "lips" met Naily's.

Within seconds the LARP kissing session was in full swing, much to the chagrin of Nickel who looked on in partial disgust. Despite being on their team, he hadn't seen the two interact much, especially not with such blatant intimacy. "Ugh, somebody needs to get a room. Are they always like this?" He hissed to Bomby.

"YEP," he beamed. He could confirm what with how close the three had grown since Naily's return from years of separation. The long-distance relationship they were forced to adapt to after TPOT 5 didn't exactly scratch their mutual itch to be in each others arms. The current sight brought back a particularly pleasant memory from more recent times:

When the show ended and they finally had a chance to reunite, the three had all built up such a desire to give affection to one another that the first thing they did as soon as they made physical contact was hug for three straight days. Sometimes, Bomby would do some footwork, carrying them into their room and grabbing drinks or food, all while not breaking the hug of course. But for the most part, those blissful 75 hours were spent doing nothing but chatting, snuggling, relaxing, and watching random shows on TV. Oh, the way they all cackled watching the Exitors' real time fandubs and hilariously bad reruns of the Object Bang Theory…

Since that faithful day, one would rarely be seen without the two others. The closest they got to splitting was when they chose to sit at different tables, over an argument regarding how to spell fortnite, a period of two weeks, which was resolved later that morning. But aside from that, they were strung together like a sowed blanket. Or, rather, welded together like three small Lego pieces, pressed together with ease and virtually impossible to be separated from that point onward.

Naily slowly moved backwards as she stared into her lovers eyes. "You're so beautiful," she hummed. Price Tag chuckled sheepishly as their blush deepened, before gazing off to their left. "Naily…" "Yes, honey?" She pulled them closer. "She's here…" "Yeah, I'm here…" She wrapped her paws around them in a hug. "I'm so sorry I ever left you…" "No, I mean…" They frowned. "At the window. Our order's here." Naily looked to see someone with bags of food. "SHOOT!" She cried as she dropped Price Tag and scrambled to look natural. "We'll, uhh, be taking our food now, thanks!" She smirked, nervously.

The worker was uninterested. "Uh-huh," She muttered tiredly as she handed the bags of food over to her customer, who grabbed on to them with what she thought were really large gloves. She didn't know what it was with these kids and their weird ass fashion trends but at this point she was so exhausted that she couldn't bother to care. Working 16 straight hours without a wink of rest had taken its toll and all she wanted was to get this last bunch of customers over with so she could end her shift. "Will that be cash or credit?" She sighed.

Naily blinked. "What?" "Cash or credit?" The cashier repeated. "How are you going to pay for your order?" Nickel stood up and slid over to the front. "Oh, I think I see what this guy's deal is. Check this out!" He flopped face-first onto the counter. The cashier stared down at him, then up at Naily, who stared back with an inattentive grin. "…Is that a nickel?" The unamused cashier mumbled. "The one and only!" She confirmed. "Okay. This is five cents," she said, blankly. "Your order is $104.86." "Uhhh, actually it's worth much more than meets the eye!" Book interjected, trying to stop a conflict before it could begin. She scrambled to make something up, "It's a one of a kind, uhhh… Nicko…min…ator, the last of its species!"

"What? No I'm not!" "Oh yeah, you are!" Price Tag >:]'d, sticking to the bit. "He's only one of the highest priced thingamajigs on the market!" They wrapped their string around him and fibbed the highest value they could count to. "check it, 8 whole bucks!"

Book facepalmed. Cake grew worried. "Wait, are we really gonna just leave him here?" "It's fine," said Pillow. "There's other ones." The cashier raised an eyebrow. "So he's not one of a kind? W-Whatever, we can't accept this. If you can't afford to pay for your order I'm afraid you'll have to return it." "Well," sighed Nickel as he stood up, "I know when I'm beat."

"Now just hold on, Nickel…" Naily flicked him back over on his back. "I think I can make this work. Here, I'll write you a check." She opened the glove compartment and grabbed a paper slip. She scribbled something down and slapped it on the counter, sliding it over to the cashier, who was too tired to realize she couldn't accept that as payment either.

She picked up the slip and was met with a crudely written note, "Distraction". "DRIVE!" Shouted Naily. By the time the cashier had realized what was going on, her group of dine-and-dashers had already sped off, with the food, but without the odd nickel cosplayer that still lay on her desk. "They're gone, aren't they?" He asked. Wendy sighed. Trillions of entities in the universe and none of them wanted to give her a single fucking break. She pressed a button at the top of the room, "Code 2762 at 1:15," before resting her chin on the bar and waiting to be allowed to leave. "You got anything you wanna kill time with?" She slurred to the coin costumed fellow. "Uhhh…" He thought of an interesting conversation topic. "I cranked a machine once."

"What are you doing?!" Cried Cake as he watched the Burger King fade away from his vision. "He's still in there! NICKEL'S STILL IN THE RESTAURANT!" "Oh yeah… Well, the only option to get him back I can think of is to go through the Drive Thru again, and that's gonna need a lotta quick maneuvering now that we've burned bridges." Naily searched through the bags for some fries. "How about we eat first? Can't have good reflexes on an empty stomach!" Price Tag looked up at her. "I thought you already ate?" "But these are better for the brain," replied Naily as she stuffed a pawful of fries in her mouth. "Potatoes and all. Not as high in mercury." "Ah, that's fair."

Naily handed a fry over to Book, who handed it over to Cake. "You want this one, Cake?" "I'll eat when we get home," he muttered, quietly, as Book took the fry back and ate it. He was too pertubed to dwell on food. How could anybody not be pertubed knowing one of their friends was accidentally left behind? How was nobody freaking out?! Book could see he was fearful, almost to the point of tears. "Cake? Are you feeling alright?"

"We left him behind…" He weeped. "We abandoned him! We're never gonna see him again!" Book felt guilt wash over her. "Oh, don't say that! You know he's just a few blocks away." She rubbed his back. "Look, I know our teammates are a bit… erratic, at times, but they still care deeply about their friends, don't they? They'd never do something that out of line if they weren't sure it'd end up alright in the end." He sniffed. "But what abo-"

"Shh," Pillow hushed as she slid into the front seat, pointing onto the window. "Look over there," she exclaimed, cueing everyone to look in her direction. It was the same hotel where Naily had found the car. Pillow was particularly fixating on a suited man standing outside, who appeared particularly livid for whatever reason. He was kicking and screaming, jumping up and down in unabashed fury. "Isn't that the guy from the poster?" Taggy pointed out.

"Oh yeah," Naily replied. "Ron whacha call it. Gosh, his face's practically turning red. Pillow, try reading his lips!"

Pillow rolled down the window and peeked her head out, curling her hands around her eyes to mimic binoculars. She spoke in a monotone voice. "-idiots, I don't care who you are, I am the President. If you don't get it back in five seconds, you can tell your kids they won't be having a christmas… look, there they are, that's my car, those assholes stole my car, shoot them, shoot them."

"PILLOW!" Cried Book, who pulled her down just in time to miss the flurry of bullets coursing through the windows. Everyone followed suit as gunshots flurried through the car; the bullet-proof glass was strong, but the government's exclusive top-model NERF guns were stronger. When the noise fell silent, Naily perked back up. "Whew, that was close. You guys all good?" "Not mentally," Book whimpered. "We have one casualty…" Cake spoke, crestfallen as he held up a soda cup. Liquid bled out of the gaping bullethole in its middle, pouring through the front and back ends. Taggy giggled. "Heh. Well, if an object got shot today, I'm sure glad it wasn't one with a face. Huh, Naily?" They looked up at her, frowning when she didn't humor their playful quip.

"Naily? Are you OK, buddy?" Her eyes were wide, blank, empty, yet filled with despair. Invisible tears fell down her face, sliding down to the corners of her mouth, a small frown with lips that covered her clenched, grinding teeth, as if to give but a glimpse at her interior rage. Price Tag's face formed semicolons. They'd never seen her like this. "Slow down." Naily hissed at their partner, who understood quickly. They eased pressure on the pedal as Naily slowly turned around, the vehicle creeping onto the sidewalk.

"Wait for my signal…" She carefully waited for non-target pedestrians to clear the runway. Book began to connect the dots. Her heart sank. "Naily, it's just a cup, whatever you're gonna do, don't do it!"

"Brake…" Bomby fastened his seatbelt. Those gunmen had really done it now; there was no stopping Naily at this point. Whatever was about to happen, was about to happen. "RAM IT!"

The car shot forward. Onlookers screamed and leapt out of the way as the vehicle sped towards the clique of suits. The self-proclaimed President's jaw dropped in horror as the cadillac careened towards his body. His ear-splitting scream was cut off with a loud, painful crunch, his body crashing into the windshield, his nose breaking and his arm bones forced to twist into unnatural angles. His face flattened from the sheer force, like something one would see out of a Tom & Jerry cartoon. It quickly slipped downwards leaving only a trail of blood, which was quickly cleaned off with the wipers. The body fell under the tires as they crushed out what little life remained in the corpse.

"Aw yeah!" Cheered Taggy as they gave Naily a high-five. Book's jaw was agape. "That was… you just…" "Now that Big Red's been taken care of, let's get Nickel back!" She flicked the radio back on instinctively, and like something out of a cheesy movie, a song began on cue. "Look at this photograph," the speakers blared. Pillow barely bat an eye. She clearly didn't mind this song as much.

Nickel flailed his legs around. "And it's just, she does nothing, while I toil and toil and toil for some stupid recovery center that doesn't even work after a while!" Wendy was attentive to the story the stranged coin costumed fellow was telling. She didn't think it was real, at all, but anything to keep her awake while she waited for management to let her leave.

He stood up and started gesturing wildly with his feet, "Flumple dumple smordledorf, it was degrading! Like, I was reduced to a cranking slave, crank crank crack 'till the sky goes black." He sat back down with a huff. "Why didn't you just, like… stop?" Wendy asked. "What?" "Like, just stop cranking. If you feel, like… degraded, or whatever it was, why keep doing something you hate, y'know?"

And let his friends die? He quickly grew defensive. "Oh yeah, well…" He stuttered, struggling to come up with a comeback. "Why don't you… stop… your thing?!" She fell silent. Nickel's response was cheap, and poorly delivered, but something about it resonated with her in a way she couldn't describe. Could she really do that? Just stop doing her job for a while because it strained her mental health to the point of splinters? Then again, money was tight… She furrowed her eyebrows. "You do your whatever, I do mine," she dismissed vaguely.

A car swept by, as the dine and dashing group from before grabbed Nickel by the foot and pulled him back into the car. Taking back a tip? Now that was low… not that he was, actually, a coin of course. Was he? Whatever, he was gone anyway, but his idea remained…

Cake grabbed onto Nickel and hugged him tightly, as he sobbed hysterically. "NICKEL I'M SO SORRY I MISSED YOU SO MUCH I WAS SO WORRIED I'D NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN," He spouted, as he peppered him with platonic kisses. Nickel shut his eyes, shielding them from the brown smooch marks appearing all across his body. He was glad Cake loved him enough to fear for his safety, he just wished he wasn't caught so off guard. "Thanks, but I was kinda in the middle of something…"

"Well that doesn't matter, now," Naily said as she swung the car back onto the road, then into the nearest parking lot. "You must be starving after all that waiting! Here…" She took the items that weren't fries out of the bag. Those were for later. She threw a cheeseburger at Nickel, some nuggets at Cake, a 'whopper' at Bomby, an ice cream at Pillow, a salad at Book, and took the kids meal for herself. The plastic toy inside, presumably inedible to her, was given to Taggy; an astronaut of some kind, with Toy Story 7 branding, they were merely estatic that it eminated light of any kind for them to, quote unquote, "eat".

Nickel stared into the burger, his focus blotting out all other senses. This was it. The purpose of the entire trip, to get at least a taste of viewers' world food. With great carefulness, he moved the food toward his mouth and bit into it, his teeth digging into the papery outer layer, the soft, warm bread, and the juicy, succulent meat. He thinks he forgot a step, but it doesn't matter. He's eating now, and he can finally taste the higher realm.

But something about it feels off, artificial. Less personal than Two's cooking. It tasted better, obviously, but what it had in flavour it lacked in heart. There is no love, no passion to be tasted, rather, homogenized corporate fluff.

His train of thought was derailed by a series of blasting sirens, fading in from in front of him. "W…what's that?" Pillow looked to the front window for the source of the noise. There, crawling over the horizon, were a flock of cars speeding their way. Atop their rooves were sirens, flashing red and blue. "Oh, I know these guys! They're feds." She turned to Naily, smiling. "They're probably angry at us because we killed their leader. We should drive. Now." She got the memo, forwarding the message to Taggy, who floored the pedal and swerved the car onto the road. The chase was on.

The car bulleted down the path, dashing away from the persuing police. Onlookers gasped as sirens whined throughout the street, dispatch after dispatch chasing the rogue presidential cadillac. Many scrambled for their phones to take pictures of the incident, eager to document perhaps one of the strangest events in U.S. political history.

One enemy car managed to catch up with Just Not, preparing to throw them off course. Ram! Nickel flew off Cake, hitting the back of the driver's seat before collapsing onto the floor. "Oh dear!" Book cried as she stood to pick him up. Ram! The car surged forward. Book was thrown out of her seat, pages aflutter. Pillow, who was restrained by her seatbelt, took notice. "You seem to be having trouble with one of the drivers," She observed. "Do you want me to take care of them?" "Y-yeah, sure, do what you can!" Book groaned as she rubbed her temple. Ram! The car swerved from left to right. Naily struggled to keep balance, frantically trying to stop the car from spinning. Taggy twisted into awkward positions in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pedal. Bomby gripped onto the grab handle, failing to curb his panic. "WE'RE GONNA DIE!" He screamed. Ram! Like a kick in an already bruised chest, the car was shoved again. "HURRY!" Cried Bomby. When Book finally managed to regain composure she could make out Pillow reaching for the back of her covers, pulling out a large, black shape. Her eyes widened. "I-is that a…" Ram! Book shrieked as she fell back onto the floor. Pillow rolled down the window, unfazed.

"I lied, earlier." She said, as she unbuckled, and took aim. "I have a gun."

Right as the car was about to ram again, Pillow fired a spray of bullets, which burst through the enemy's windshield and caused the car to swerve away in surprise. It turned sharply to the left, spinning directly into a building, which collapsed on top of it in a fiery explosion. "BURN IN HELL, YOU CAPITALIST PIG DOGS!" Cried Pillow.

Naily saw the car fade away, and sighed in relief. The feeling vanished as she saw a sharp curve in the road. "We're about to turn!" She shouted. Pillow noted, grabbing onto the grab handle and using the velocity from the vehicle's swing to fling herself onto the back trunk. She used one hand to cling onto the window, and the other to hold onto the gun. Bullets fired hysterically at the cops as they swerved, desperately trying to dodge the storm of gunfire while keeping chase with the criminals.

"How are we going to get home?!" Cake panicked as he pulled Nickel in for a protective hug. "I don't know!" Naily snapped. "The alleyway could be anywhere!" Book facepalmed. Her cover was starting to redden from the amount of times she had slapped it these past few hours. Taggy made a <:[. "Book, weren't you keeping directions?!" "Me?!" Book replied. "Oh, yeah, me, uhh…" She scrambled across the floor. That page couldn't have gone too far, could it?

After a few seconds of searching and a quick buildup of fear, she finally found the page. She sighed as she sat back in her seat and buckled up, scanning the pages for any valuable information. In spite of how rushed it was, it felt surprisingly comprehensible. "Okay, do you know where Barnes Street is?" "No!" Naily responded, before seeing a street sign. "Yes!" "Okay, turn right there…"

Pillow felt herself slide sharply to her left, flipping over onto her front as she struggled to maintain her grip on the rim. She found herself awkwardly shifting onto her right as she tried to get a good look at the pack of feds, still following her with intent to kill. If they didn't recognise her before, they certainly recognised her now.

She was running low on ammo, and if she wanted to permanently get rid of the threat, she'd have to change tactics. She looked up. A helicopter flew above them at an almost safe distance. She assumed it belonged to a news station, of some sort. Stupid spies, probably broadcasting this live for the whole world to see, like it was any of their business. At least in BFDI there was a chance to edit some of the more personal things out. She took aim.

She unexpectedly swerved back to her right, this time almost falling off the car. Her feet slid off the trunk, and for the moment, she thought she would end up skidding onto the road, meeting an untimely end as her cover was ripped to shreds. Yet, thankfully, a swift swerve sent her back to the uncomfortable, yet safer position she was in before, and she, once again, took aim.

"OK, now you're gonna wanna stick to this road for a couple more metres!" Book instructed. Naily obliged, using this time to glare at the car coming up to her right. It slowly gained on her, and she anticipated another ramming. But instead, the driver rolled down the window and poked their head out to talk to her.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA," they shouted, over the unending howls of the wind. "HOW FAST YOU'RE GOING?!" Naily rolled down her window. "NO," she remarked, "I CAN'T READ." "I'M GOING TO NEED TO SEE YOUR LICENSE AND REGISTRATION!" She rolled her eyes, pulling out an I.D. from who knows where and sticking her paw out to give it to them. They grabbed it and read its label, a single, crudely written word: "Distraction". Looking up from the note, they were barely given enough time to react to the car in front of them, and with a painful crash, they demolished the entire front of their car, and practically their entire body. "Naily 2, Viewers 0!" Cheered Taggy.

After skillful shooting at the helicopter's rotors, Pillow watched the fireworks. The machine barreled down uncontrollably, spiralling into the police herd and colliding with a loud, dramatic explosion, which sent debris flying even in her close vicinity. The bright orange light soon faded, leaving only piles of rust and rubble. Pillow sighed in relief, and swerved back into the car. That spectacle was worth the world. "Uhh, guys, I think we missed," Cake muttered as he pointed to the bright neon "alleyway" sign that they had just sped past. That must've been where we came from, Book thought as she facepalmed.

To make matters worse, Bomby could see another herd of cars speeding towards them. "TURN! TURN!" He shouted. Naily swerved around, this time heading in the opposite direction. Her stomach dropped when she saw a pile of cars blocking her path. "Well, we're done for." said Nickel. "Taggy, brake!" Naily commanded. Much to her surprise, they didn't. "Price Tag, brake!" "No, we can't!" They snapped. "You can make it through this, you ran over that guy, you can run through a couple cars!"

Their words were kind, if not poorly timed considering the circumstances. Nethertheless, she trusted them enough to play along. She angled herself towards the alleyway and shut her eyes, hoping with all her might that they were correct and she would push through the piles of cars. It was either that, or nothing.

By now, a crowd of almost every object in the hotel had gathered around the vending machine. Green tape was set up near the area, so nobody but those willing to try and fix it could cross. Surprisingly, after so many hours, nobody could seem to understand what was wrong with the vending machine, or how they could get Winner's "money" back. Not even Golf Ball could fix the issue.

Snowball, one of the only objects who hadn't previously showed up, stepped proudly in to the fray. He strutted down the cleared line, "You're all stumped by a vending machine? Pathetic! I can fix something like that in seconds," He boomed, shoving Golf Ball out of the way, "because I have arms!"

"No, stop, don't." Said Winner, sarcastically. He breathed in, then out, as he stretched his arms towards the vending machine. "Open sesame!"

Nothing happened. Everyone was silent for a brief few seconds. Snowball took another deep breath. "Open sesa-"

The car burst through the machine, flattening Snowball in the process. It flipped over repeatedly as the other objects rushed to get out of the way, Winner particularly growing afraid as their once dimmed fears were quickly rekindled. Finally, it settled, resting on its back.

One by one, Just Not climbed out of the vehicle. Naily, realizing that she wasn't dead, leapt around in celebration and cheered. Seeing Taggy, she leapt into their legs estatically, giving them multiple swift kisses and thanks. Their string began to wag again as the affection extinguished their uneasiness. They made a ^w^, their voice cracking as they cheered giddily that they were both okay, and they didn't think twice before reciprocating her hug as they wrapped their legs around hers tightly. Soon afterwards they were joined by Bomby, who pulled both of them in for a group hug. "OHMAGOSH! NAILY! TAGGY!" He cried, as the group barrel-rolled forward in excitement.

Soon after they were joined by Cake, who was glad to see his friends were alright, then Nickel, then Book, then Pillow…

"Just Not?!" Cried Two, as they all stopped to look at them. "Where have you been? We've been trying to fix this ve-" They froze when they turned around to see a giant, green portal. They were left in a paralyzing state of shock, their jaw agape as they stared at the wormhole.

"The real world," they slowly turned to the team. "You went to the real world."

Price Tag sighed, as they stepped forward. "I guess there's no denying it any longer." They shut their eyes into a U_U. "It was Winner. Winner forced us to go." They recoiled. "T-Taggy!" "Winner! You mean you were in on this?!" They began to sweat. "Well, I mean-" "Yeah, totally! We were just trying to keep to ourselves, but they threatened to terminate our cable subscription, it was horrible!" Naily put a paw on her forehead melodramatically, playing along with the bit. "Book, you can back us up, right?"

But Book was already running off. She held up a finger, likely to indicate that they had taken things 'one' step too far, before disappearing into the distance. The joke was on her, though, Naily thought. She was holding up the wrong one.

Either way she couldn't keep up the act. "…It's just a prank?" She shrugged.

"I DON'T CARE IF IT WAS A BIRTHDAY GIFT OR ANOTHER TRIAL FROM GOD!" Two yelled, "I AM BEYOND ANGRY AT ALL OF YOU! Winner, I gave you clear instructions to not randomly create portals to the real world without my permission."

"I'm sorry!" They sighed. "N-Nickel said there were purple tomatoes, and I was hungry!"

"You eat those literally every other day! Nickel! I tell you to be more grateful for what you have, so you run off into another dimension?!" "W-well, yeah, but the food they have there doesn't really taste- have the same heart that yours does."

"…YOU ATE THEIR FOOD?!" They cried, taking personal offense. "Look," said Naily, "I'm really sorry if we did something wrong by running off. We just wanted to find more of the exotic caviar you were talking about!"

They frumped. "The ca- Is that what this is about?" Nickel's eyes darted around. "Well, yeah, where else would you get it from?"

"Nickel." Two said, bluntly. "Nickel, look at me. We have a canal, with fish in it. That lay eggs. Caviar is fish eggs."

"Oh." He tapped his foot, awkwardly. "Well that's why we didn't really… find any, anyway. We mostly just ate burgers."

"Whatever you ate, it wasn't worth violating one of my clearest rules!" They sighed. "Look, I'll let you all off the hook this time, since clearly none of you had any malicious intent." They walked towards the portal, while eyeing Winner, "and using your limitless power irresponsibly, even for just a minute, is admittedly tempting," before standing in front of it. "But you all could've gotten very hurt, and for that risk alone, I don't want you ever sneaking out like that again."

They turned around. "Now I'm going to go get some stuff for oh MY GOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD!" They screamed as they saw a flurry of tanks, helicopters, and police cars aiming directly at them. They hastily ripped the portal off the wall, folding it into a bite-sized piece before swallowing it with a quick gulp. They breathed heavily for a few seconds. Winner raised their eyebrows. "That's impressive." "WHAT DID YOU- Thanks, by the way, thank you for noticing, but WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

Pillow pulled out some shoelaces. "We also killed the president."

Nickel bit into his fried caviar. It was crunchier, and more bitter than his previous feast. "Well, maybe two week house arrest isn't that bad after all!" Naily perked, kicking her feet against her assigned bed as she switched on the TV. "Yeah," Taggy said as they huddled under the blanket. "We get room service and everything!" "AND, THANKS TO DOORDASH, 4% CASHBACK ON EVERY PURCHASE." Cheered Bomby. Naily awkwardly nodded. Perhaps exposure to the viewers' world had gone to his head.

She looked up at the roof - gray, like the rest of the room - and silently sighed. While she appeared about as optimistic as the others, secretly, Naily couldn't wait to get out of here. The room's dull coloring was nowhere near as visually stimulating as her walls, which were somehow littered with bright neon blinkie gifs and other animated posters. She stared enviously at the bed which would've been assigned to Book had she not been pardoned by Two. Stupid justice. She was probably being rewarded with a nice, tropical vacation for her efforts to stop the situation from escalating before it began, while the rest of the team lounged in prison.

Naily was right: but in actuality, being separated from her friends even for a little while was perhaps just as punishing to Book as this ordeal was to Naily. The friend group they shared was tight-knit: nobody could stay mad at each other for long, and even if they didn't think it, they longed to see each other again and quickly reconcile.

"Well, Burger Kings come and go…" Cake stated as he ate a fry, whose recipe had been copied from the titular restaurant after much research, "but you're all the only monarchs I'll ever need."

Awkward, yet sweet. That was Cake. He huddled up with the rest of his team in a hug while thinking about how Loser would be the royal jester in this metaphor.

Ironically, Nickel thought to himself as he took another bite of his caviar, Two perhaps did need to go to the viewers' world to make proper ground sevruga after all, before the incident made it too dangerous for anyone to venture into again. Except it wasn't the caviar that was obtained from the viewers' world.

It was the microwaves, delivered by Black Sea Shipping Company.

Pillow crept into her room. It had been vacant for the past fortnite on account of her house arrest. Her friends were currently having a reunion party downstairs to celebrate finally being able to interact with the outside world. How naive, or rather, ignorant. They had finally taken a step outside of their little bubble and were still perfectly content with staying inside? Their loss.

She bit her fingernail into the shape of a key, and unlocked her drawer. Two had confiscated her gun after finding it during the car inspection. They didn't, however, think to search her room. Searching through her pile of backup weapons, she found another: a ray gun. Smaller, and with a much slower firing speed, but it packed a punch if you had good aim. Perfect for what she was trying to achieve.

She switched it to "Portal" mode. The incident was probably all over the news by now. It would take a lot of work to cover it all up, but if Pillow had her heart set on fixing what was broken, chances are it wouldn't take more than a few hours. If all went well she would be back in time to catch the end of the party.

She aimed at the floor.

She breathed in.

She fired.

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writeforfandoms · 7 months

Text

Shatter Me 13

Find the series masterlist

These three get a little break, finally. They need it. Finally some soft moments!

Warnings: Swearing, Grogu is still the cutest menace, Feels galore!

Word count: 1k

Mando guided the ship down easily, landing with barely a thump. The area was clearly a landing area, with several ships already in the area. You sat for a few moments longer to look at the variety of them all, until Mando’s foot nudged yours. Then you hopped to your feet and followed him down the ladder and outside.

He talked to the dock worker to take care of getting the ship fueled, giving you time to just stand and look, Grogu held in your arms.

The planet was beautiful, almost idyllic, with growth everywhere. Grass and flowers grew right up to the border of the landing pads, luscious and undaunted by the buildings and technology.

“Here.” Mando stopped next to you, holding out the brown sack he used to carry Grogu around, along with a small bag of credits. “Head into town, get whatever we need for a while. I’ll be behind you.”

You looked at him for a moment before you nodded, smiling shyly. “Thank you,” you murmured, taking both items.

Mando simply nodded and motioned you on.

The market was bustling, the main street widening into a semi-circular area. Stalls were set up more or less in an orderly fashion, all sorts of goods filling tables and hanging from awnings and stacked up around the stalls. And the smells were overwhelming, good and bad. You could smell something roasting, hearty and a little sweet. Spices drifted to your nose, tingly and intense. And of course there was always an odor to this number of people packed together.

Grogu cooed, looking around with interest, ears twitching at all the new noises. You smiled down at him.

"Shall we go find some food, buddy?" You asked, settling him into the bag slung across your body. He chirped up at you, and you nodded back. "Food first, then the rest of the supplies."

You glanced around but didn't see Mando. You knew he was nearby, but for someone with a very intimidating presence and a lot of shiny armor, he could definitely hide when he wanted to.

You shrugged and started off further into the market.

The first vendor you saw with meat, you bought three skewers, handing one down to Grogu immediately. That kept him happy - he ate one and a half. And it allowed you time to browse, to find something for Mando to eat later.

Then you bought more rations and long-term items, since you doubted there would be much on Tython.

With a few credits left to spare, you debated leaving. You had everything you needed.

But you could also get a little treat. Just a little something.

Seemingly at the same moment, you and Grogu both spotted the cookies. He reached for them with a soft coo, eyes closing.

"Hey, bud, none of that," you reminded him, seeing a cookie twitch. "I'll buy them for us." Moving quickly, you walked to the vendor and picked out cookies. Blue for Grogu. Green for you. And black with a silvery dusting over the top for Mando.

Feeling extra pleased, you took one more walk through the market. Just to enjoy the sights and sounds. Your anxiety wasn't bothering you much, just a low background paranoia that you could ignore.

It surprised you a bit, the fact that you were this comfortable out here. With all of these people. Especially since you were responsible for Grogu.

A flash of silver caught your eye and you turned, finally spotted Mando. He was leaning back against a house, mostly in shade, with his arms crossed over his chest and one foot resting on the wall behind him. He looked totally relaxed. You smiled.

Oh. Oh, that was why.

With Mando watching out for you, you felt safe.

A little flustered with that realization, you walked back over to him, shopping bag in one hand and Grogu's fingers wrapped around your other.

"Done?" Mando asked, low and raspy as always.

"Yeah," you agreed. "Got everything."

Mando nodded, pushing up off the wall and motioning you to go first. You blinked, startled, but started walking slowly.

This was… weird. Unusual. You walked behind him, not in front of him. But this way… this way you got to see people react to the Mandalorian, moving out of his way. And out of yours. People kept a respectful distance from you, too. Like you were someone important.

Like you were more than just a damaged mechanic.

You swallowed hard and lifted your chin, just a little.

The walk out of town was quiet, Grogu clinging to your fingers and occasionally chirping at you. Once outside of town, you relaxed a little more. The sounds of town faded, leaving just the natural wonder of this world.

Mando caught up to you, taking the bag from you without a word. When you started to protest, he shook his head, helmet gleaming. You puffed out your cheeks but didn't actually argue, earning you a tiny chuckle from your companion.

This… you could get used to this. This quiet sense of companionship. Of belonging.

But you knew it wouldn't last. If nothing else, you were still on course to Tython, where the child would possibly reach out to the Jedi.

You didn't dare think about what would happen after that.

"Ship is all refueled?" You asked, spotting the Crest in the distance.

"Yes."

You sighed. You couldn't help it. "Back on our way, then?" You looked over at your companion. At your side, Grogu also looked up at Mando, eyes big and ears half-down.

Mando paused and then sighed, dropping his head and shaking it just slightly. "We'll leave in the morning," he decided. "But I'm moving us away from the city."

He didn't have to say why. You knew. Between your bounty and the Imps looking for the kid, it was too dangerous. But the prospect of having an entire night out on a planet? Under the stars?

Your grin could have lit the city.

#shatter me #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #f!reader

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razzlerdazzler · 1 year

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Fem OW character of ur choice x fem reader!

Reader typically stays out of violence as much as possible and prefers domestic lifestyle. Characters enemy kidnaps reader (proly to get back at character) when character goes to rescue reader shes drenched in her kidnappers blood. Like it’s stained her dress, on her face, in her hair, dripping from the huge axe in her hand.

Character doesn’t know whether to be terrified or turned on

Hi, sorry this took so long to get done. I just got a new job and it took me a little while to get used to the hours but it's all good now. By the way I chose Junker Queen for this one, I hope you like it :) Also Have a Happy New Year

Junker Queen x Female Kidnapped Reader

hSummary: Reader is kidnapped by King Howel's henchman, and by the time Odessa gets there, the henchmen are already dead and her girlfriend is covered in blood

Pairing: Junker Queen x Female Reader

Warnings: Blood and gore, spicy at the end but nothing too bad

This was not how you were expecting your day to go. You were bored inside of yours and Odessa's house, which you had recently got since she recently became Junker Queen and ruler of Junkertown. She's currently inside another room with an advisor, discussing a recent issue that has come up. She had been very busy ever since she became the new ruler, so you two have not been able to have much time to yourselves and have not been on a date in months. Since she was busy and you were bored, you decided to go out for a walk through the market.

It was a lovely day outside, the sun was shining without a cloud in the sky, and of course it was very hot, so you decided to wear a (F/C) dress outside. You were walking around the marketplace, looking at all the stalls and seeing what the vendors were offering. You started to walk past an alleyway, on your way to the next stall until you heard a scream come from the alleyway. "HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!!" You stopped and looked towards the alleyway but you couldn't see anything. You slowly walked into the alleyway, the cries for help getting louder and louder as you kept walking. "Hello? What's wrong, are you hurt?" You tentatively call out to the voice. The shouting suddenly stops and the whole alleyway goes deathly quiet. "Hello?" You ask, now even more worried than you were before.

You take another step when a pair of arms suddenly wrap around your sides. You try to scream but a hand quickly covers your mouth. You try to struggle against your attacker, but you can't get out of their hold. The attacker seems to have had enough of your struggling because the next thing you know a rag is put to your face. You can smell the chemicals on the rag and try to struggle harder, but fail to escape as your vision soon turns to black.

The first thing you feel when you come to is the feeling of the cold hard ground. You groan as you open your eyes. The first thing you notice is how dark the room is, the only light source being a dim bulb on the ceiling. You sit up and look at your surroundings, the last thing you remember was someone grabbing you and putting a rag to your face. You look around the room and notice the concrete walls that surround you. You also notice the large metal door on the opposite side of the room.

You suddenly hear the sound of footsteps from outside your door and you feel your heart beat faster as the footsteps come closer and closer. You look around the room, trying to see if there is anything you could use to defend yourself, but are unable to find anything. Soon you hear voices outside the door. "You sure we shouldn't have tied her up?" "Relax, the boss said she wouldn't be much of a problem, beside the boss is just having us keep an eye on her, until her girlfriend comes to rescue her." So they took you just because they wanted to get back at Odessa?

The door opens, revealing two figures. One of them was a woman and the other one was a man. They close the door behind them and you notice that the woman is holding a broad axe. "Who are you people?" you ask meekly. The man smiles at you, "we're your worst nightmare. Sadly however our boss couldn't make it to this little gathering but he sends his regards." "Who is your boss?" You ask timidly. This time the woman answers with a smirk, "Mason Howl." You feel your blood run cold at the name.

You met Odessa a little bit after she became Queen, but you remember how she told you how awful the ex-king was and how he kicked her family out of town. She also told you about how she defeated him, and how she kicked him out of town. "You see he wants his throne back," she continues. You look up at her questioningly. "Then why go to all the trouble of kidnapping me? Why doesn't he just challenge Odessa?" You ask shakily. The woman crouches down to your level and says "he could just try to challenge her again, but you see that's just too much work. Instead he came up with the brilliant plan of kidnapping you, just so Odessa would have to come rescue you, and when she does get here, we'll ambush her. And with her out of the way Howl would be on the throne again."

You feel your heart plummet at the thought of Odessa being killed. "You won't get away with this." You say causing the man to chuckle, "oh but we will, she will die and there's nothing you can do to stop it." You feel rage bubble up inside you, and all you can see is red as you quickly punch the lady in the face, hearing a cracking sound at the contact. She falls to the floor and drops her axe as she holds her now bleeding nose. You quickly stand up and grab the axe as the man launches himself at you. You swing the broad axe at the man and hit his knee. The man screams in agony at the impact and falls onto his back. You quickly yank the axe out of his knee and you swing the axe down onto him, hitting him between his neck and shoulder. Blood gushes out of the wound as you put your foot on his chest and yank out the axe.

You turn back to the lady, and she is already back on her feet. She takes a swing at you, but you easily dodge her and kick her in the chest, causing her to fall back to the ground. You raise the axe above your head and swing down with all of your energy. The axe lands with a sickening crunch in her head. You hear the sound of more guards approaching, and ready yourself for the oncoming fight. The guards enter the room and you start to swing your axe at them again.

It feels like hours until they stop coming. You hear a loud noise come from the hallway, and you ready yourself for the next guard. That is until you hear her voice. "Y/N are you down here?" You freeze at the sound and Odessa suddenly appears infront of the doorway, her axe in hand, ready for a fight. Her eyes widen as she sees you and the state of the room you're in. "Odessa?" you ask, voice quivering. This seems to break Odessa out of her trance as runs towards you. "Y/N!" She pulls you into a hug, your eyes widen at the contact.

You feel youself physically and emotionally relax as her arms wrap around you. You drop the axe and hug her back. You both stay like that for what feels like hours until she pulls back and looks at you. "I came here as soon as I found out what happened, are you hurt anywhere?" She asks concerned while looking at you up and down. You smile at her concern and say "i'm fine." Her look of concern turns into confusion as she looks back into your eyes. "So none of this is your blood?" Your eyebrows furrow, confused at her question. You look down and you feel your breath hitch as you see yourself.

Your dress is soaked in blood, and your hands are covered in it too. This causes you to look up at her, feeling a little embarrassed. "None of it's mine," Her eyes widen in shock at your words. She takes another look around the room before looking back at you. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. "I didn't want to do it, but they started to talk about how they were going to kill you, and I just saw red." You explain. Her arms tighten around you as she suddenly lifts you up into the air, causing you to squeal in surprise. You quickly wrap your legs around her waist, and your arms around her neck so you don't fall. "I knew my baby had a bit of fire in her."

"Baby," you say with a smile. She looks at you with a smile, "what it's true. It's honestly kind of hot knowing that you can kick someone's ass." You smile at her words and pull her into a passionate kiss. She sighs in contentment, at the feeling of finally having her lips on hers again. You gasp when she bites your bottom lip and she slips her tongue into your mouth. Fine two can play at this game. You move one of your hands to the back of her head, and you tangle your fingers into her hair. You yank at her hair a little bit, causing her to let out a loud moan. Soon you two break apart from the kiss, and she starts to pepper kisses down your neck. You moan as she bites and sucks on a sensitive part of your neck, most likely leaving a mark.

"Babe," you say breathlessly. She continues to kiss down your neck and hums to let you know she's listening. "I really want to continue, but I don't think this is a good place for this, you say as she kisses your neck one last time before she pulls away. Her face is flushed and her eyes are hazy as she looks at you, you feel your heart flutter at the sight. She's gorgeous. You don't think you look much better, as her eyes roam over your figure. "Babe," you say again, getting her attention. It seems to work as she shakes her head a little and clears her throat. "You're right," she says as she gently puts you back down.

You two start to make your way out of the building, and you get another good look at your dress. You sigh sadly causing Odessa to look over at you. "I'm gonna need a new dress," you say causing her to laugh. She moves one of her arms around your waist, "don't worry i'll get you a new one. You smile at her words as you two keep walking. She suddenly asks "where did you learn to fight like that anyway?" You're surprised at her question and say "babe, we live in Junkertown, you kind of have to to know how to live here." She smiles at your answer and soon you reach a door. "Welp this is the way out, you ready?" She asks as she looks at you. You look up at her, "with you by my side I'll always be ready." She smiles at your answer and opens the door. No matter what happens, you and Odessa will always be there for each other.

#junker queen x reader #odessa x reader #overwatch x reader

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girlbloggerbae13 · 1 year

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Princesa Salamanca: Chapter 3

A/N: Ok, I'm SO SORRY this is so delayed. Finals were fucking crazy. Glad that semester is done with...anyways, SMUT SMUT SMUT in this one. Also, so sorry, but I fear a Nacho/Sarah/Lalo love triangle coming soon. Anyways, enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Smut, NSFW

Previous Chapter:

Chapter 3:

Sarah’s phone rang, and again, it wasn’t Lalo. She’s started wondering if he’s ever going to show, but she knows him. He’ll show, and if not for her, then for the family, right?

“Hola Ignacio. How are you feeling?”

“Hey, I’m supposed to let you know to head to El Michoacano. We have business to attend to,” Nacho says in a monotone voice, ignoring her question.

Sarah cocks an eyebrow. “You’re letting me know to head there. For a meeting. We have business? I didn’t know you liked me like that Nacho,” she teased.

Nacho was unamused, and he simply sighed before retorting, “Whatever, head there.”

I’m just trying to be friendly, she thought before hanging up without saying goodbye. Sarah slipped on a pair of her favorite black heels, thinking of her last night with Lalo, and made her way to her car. Once inside, she put on her favorite, Elvis, and lit a cigarette. Marlboro Lights, the prettiest pack on the market.

Singing along to Suspicious Minds, she pulls into the parking lot of El Michoacano. She turned off the car then stepped out, double checking that her gun was in its holster, snug against her thigh. Sarah swung open the door to the restaurant to see Nacho sitting, arms crossed, at his usual table, with a plate of familiar looking tacos in front of him. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and motioned for her to sit.

She heard singing coming from the kitchen, and immediately knew who it was. Paca paca paca in me caballo. Lalo was finally in town. She smiled to herself, then turned to Nacho.

“Lalo’s here?” Sarah asked the grumpy man sitting in the dining area of the restaurant.

Nacho nodded, and like he knew she was calling for him, Lalo walked out from behind the kitchen, smiling.

“Bem! Princesa! I wanted to surprise you.”

Sarah was grinning ear to ear, and she ran up to Lalo, practically jumping into his arms. She sunk her face into the crook of his neck and whispered, “I missed you.”

“Ay dios mio, ella bonita,” Lalo looked down at her with lustful eyes. His girl, his obedient girl, holding down the fort here in New Mexico. He cupped both sides of her face and kissed her. She giggled into the kiss, then leaned in with desperation, practically clawing at the satin shirt the Salamanca man was wearing.

Nacho coughed, already sick of whatever interaction was going on between this “Lalo” and the gringa.

The pair ignored the man briefly, and when Lalo finally pulled away (after deepening the kiss a little too much for the current setting), Sarah was still leaning into him and mumbled protests as her lips departed her husband’s.

“Lo siento, Ignacio, you have to understand, I haven’t seen my Sarah in what feels like forever,” Lalo said, feigning exasperation towards the younger man. “She keeps me young, you know?” Lalo leaned in towards Nacho, whispering, “You know what I mean.”

Nacho grimaced, Lalo smirked, and Sarah blushed, but the trio sat down to start discussing some more of that Salamanca family business. If Nacho thought Sarah was too eccentric, he was in for a treat with Eduardo.

After business was finished and done, Sarah was relieved to be able to go home with Lalo. She was practically itching under the table, aching for the older man. She always had that dangerous ache for him, and she always would. Lalo alleviated some of her frustration by sliding his hand up her skirt, though he was simply keeping a hand on her thigh to steady her anticipation.

Outside, Lalo pulled his girl away from her own car. “Come ride with me.” Of course, she listened.

In the car, she was able to unholster her gun. “Aye, put that in the back. You know I don’t like you having to carry those around. I’m here now, yeah? So no more of that,” Lalo instructed.

Sarah nodded silently, biting her lower lip. Lalo turned towards her. He tutted, then cupped her chin. “What are we going to have to do about you?” He lowered his voice, looking deep into her doe eyes. She was putty in his hands.

“The twins said you did so good while I was gone. So good for me, huh?” He knew the answer; he just liked to hear her say it. Sarah nodded. Lalo nodded back slowly as he ran his fingers through her hair. “Yeah, yeah you were.”

Sarah swallowed and took a deep breath. Lalo always did this, almost examining her in a way. Examining her loyalty, her love for him, her compliance. “Such a good girl for me.” Lalo pecked the tip of her nose, the unspoken sign of his approval. Almost childish in a way, a simple kiss pressed to the tip of her nose. It was innocent enough to praise her good behavior, but teased Sarah’s lips to keep her close and waiting for more.

And she always waited for more from Lalo. She did carry herself with confidence and poise, but when it came to him, that all went out the window. She would follow him, both happily and blindly, to the ends of the Earth.

“Ready to go home, mujercita?” Sarah nodded, and Lalo grabbed her hand as he drove away with the other.

Their home for the time being was a swanky set-up indeed, though nothing compared to her home with Lalo in Mexico. There, Sarah was able to be a guest and a homemaker at the same time, and all the while was living more lavishly than she could have ever dreamed.

Lalo parked and slowly (he was never in a rush, because Lalo knew he would get what he wanted no matter how long it took him) made his way to Sarah’s side of the car. He opened her door and held out a hand to gently usher her out of the car and up to the front door. Lalo guided her in front of him, placing his hand on the small of her back. He hummed quietly to himself as he pulled out the key.

Sarah was unconsciously tapping her foot. “In a rush, princesa? What’s so important inside?” Lalo teased, stepping closer to the woman.

She tried to deny her motivation, but the effort became a lost cause as Lalo backed her into the door. He kissed her, with more force than he used earlier in the restaurant. He was able to unlock the door without interrupting the moment, and he guided her back into the apartment. Sarah was already flustered, pulling Lalo towards her as soon as they stepped inside.

“Mmm, shhh,” he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You can slow down.”

He closed the door, locking it behind them, then turned back towards Sarah, who was looking apologetic. “I’m not upset, I know you missed me.” He spoke hushed. “You got no one taking care of you here, huh?”

Sarah’s once doe eyes turned to those of a siren. She bit her lower lip, breathing slowly. “Mmm-mmm. I need you.”

“Oh yeah?”

Sarah nodded, pouting.

“Please?” She was whispering now.

Lalo moved back into the kiss, one hand on her waist, though it was so large compared to her petite frame that it practically wrapped around her side, and the other hand in her hair, grasping for something to hold on to.

Sarah leaned into the kiss, grabbing back just as hungrily. Her hands were in his hair, then on his belt, then making their way under his soft satin shirt. Lalo lifted her so her legs were wrapped around his torso and carried her into the kitchen, setting her down on the counter. He kissed and sucked his way down to the bottom of her dress, then as she was pulling the black curls on his head and moaning small obscenities, Lalo stopped to look up at Sarah with a devilish grin. He started rubbing her through her pink panties. “That’s so cute, mi amor. Little pink panties with a pretty little bow.”

Lalo admired the wet spot already forming in her underwear. “It’s a shame you’re ruining them because of me.”

He scooted her hips slightly forward on the counter, earning a small squeak out of the younger woman. Lalo tutted quietly, then used both hands to slowly pull the panties off of Sarah’s body. She let out a breathy moan, her head leaned back into the cabinet. “Please, please, Lalo,” she pleaded.

Lalo chuckled to himself. The poor girl was in shambles, and he still had all of his clothes on. Ensuring to go slow, he kissed from her knees up to her heat. She was shaking. Lalo started on his girl, keeping the snail’s pace from before, sucking and kissing, and eventually, working his fingers close to her entrance.

Lalo, ever the showman, moved his mouth away from the girl, and instead started rubbing small circles on her clit. He could see that Sarah was arching her back, desperately, and he grabbed her face by her chin, making her meet his gaze. “Yeah?” He asked, smiling an arrogant smirk.

Not dropping the pleading expression, Sarah nodded again, and this time clawed at his hands, unable to physically ask for more.

He inserted two fingers into the girl, pumping slowly, but not averting eye contact. Sarah let a quiet moan escape her lips. He finally broke the gaze and moved his mouth back down to where it was needed most.

Lalo could tell that Sarah was about to come when she started grabbing at his hair, her legs started shaking uncontrollably, and she let out a string of whimpers. He stopped, abruptly, leaving the already shaken-up Sarah even more havocked. She tried pulling him closer.

“No, no, Lalo, I’m, I…please come back, I need–”

She quieted down as he stood up from his previously crouching position. He pushed out his lower lip, mocking the woman. “What you need, princesa, is someone to take care of you the right way. You’re acting like no one’s touched you in years, desperate and pleading for me.”

“I just missed you is all. I’ve been stuck here, just me and my imagination,” Sarah pouted, running her fingers over his hands on the side of her face.

Lalo cocked an eyebrow.

Sarah batted her eyelashes, giving the siren eyes again, always drawing the Salamanca back in. “You left me here. I had to touch myself, touch myself and think about you doing it for me.” Lalo looked at Sarah, lustful, only he was better at controlling his urges. She started sucking on his finger.

“How could I do that to my girl, hmm?” Lalo asked her with sarcasm. “How rude of me. I have to make it up to you now.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, still sucking on his finger, running her tongue over the pad of his fingertip.

He planned to take her to the bedroom, have a passionate and slow-burning night. But his girl was a needy brat, and Sarah needed Lalo, right there in the kitchen. Who was he to say no? He kissed her again, and now he was feeling desperate. She made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, then ran her hands over his chest and back as he took off the shirt, tossing it towards the fridge.

Sarah, still kissing Lalo, blindly reached for his belt. Before unbuckling, she rubbed him through his expensive slacks. He wasn’t one for being too nosy during sex, but something about Sarah’s confidence through the desperation was going to get him hook, line, and sinker every time.

Sarah felt Lalo getting even harder through his pants, and she smiled to herself. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped him. He quickly kicked off his pants. Sarah was moaning just from touching him. Lalo teased her with his fingers. “All this for me? Ay dios mio, tan mojado, princesa. I need to take care of you, yeah?”

Sarah simply moaned in response, and Lalo moved to remove his boxers. Sarah gulped, seeing his hard cock in front of her. He smiled at her, and held himself at her entrance for a moment before slowly pushing in.

Just like every time before, Sarah clutched onto Lalo’s shoulders as he started fucking her. She pulled him close to her, snaking one arm under his, but clutching onto his shoulder, and the other arm wrapped closer to his head, holding onto his hair for support. She breathed out, slowly, as she did every time, adjusting herself to accommodate his size.

Once Lalo noticed the petite frame on the counter in front of him relaxing into the crook of his neck, he picked up the pace, and Sarah’s grip tightened. She tossed her head back, but bit her lip to keep her voice down.

“Fucking…princesa, so tight…no one’s been taking care of you, mm?”

“Uh-uh,” Sarah responded through her teeth, trying to keep herself from being overstimulated by the man whose touch she had been deprived of for way too long.

Lalo picked up the pace, gripping Sarah’s hip and neck, one hand on each. “I’m gonna have to fix that.”

Sarah softly sunk her teeth into Lalo’s left shoulder. “Please,” she breathily moaned, “please don’t stop, Lalo.”

He didn’t. As she pressed herself closer to him, he only grabbed her more. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and he could tell Sarah was getting close, too.

“Hey, hey,” Lalo whispered in between grunts. “No one’s here, you can be as loud as you need.”

Sarah briefly made eye contact with the man that had her in this trance.

“Yeah?” Lalo asked. “You gonna come, right here?”

He kept fucking her, hard, and after being given the go-ahead, Sarah stopped muting herself. “Lalo…oh, there, there…”

She was close. Once he felt her tensing up around him, he started sucking and nibbling at her neck, telling her, “Let go, princesa.”

Her whole body shook as she came around him. “Fuck, fuck…mm-hmm…”

She gasped, still clawing at him, and as she rode through her orgasm, he only whispered to her, “Good girl… buena…”

Sarah grabbed at Lalo’s head again, “Your good girl…I’m your good girl,” she said quietly, still moaning and shaking.

That sent the man over the edge, and he lost control of his thrusts, coming inside her, filling her up. He had a thing for that, seeing Sarah so cock-drunk and needing every last piece of him. She was the one that originally begged him to come inside her.

Lalo grunted lowly, almost growling, into her ear, still choking her. She was still arching her back, now trying to open herself more so Lalo could come deep inside her, which almost sent Sarah into a second orgasm.

As Lalo finished spilling into her, he grabbed her hips on both sides, pushing himself as deep as possible. “Fuck, fuck…muy chingón.”

Sarah gasped, whining at the overstimulation, but when Lalo pulled out, she was left whining at the lack of stimulation.

“Oh, I know, I know,” Lalo spoke in a hushed, comforting tone. “You want more, hmm? Una niña tan obediente…” The man moved her hair out of her face. “So good to me, princesa, such a dirty girl for me.”

Sarah nuzzled into Lalo’s neck, kissing him every so often.

“Such a good girl. My pretty girl.”

He pulled her face out of the crook of her neck to kiss her forehead, then her nose, once more validating Sarah. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

#lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca #lalo x reader #lalo salamanca fanfic #ignacio varga x reader #ignacio varga #nacho varga x reader #nacho varga x reader x lalo salamanca #love triangle #bcs fanfic #tony dalton x reader #tony dalton #michael mando #bcs smut #breaking bad #jimmy mcgill #better call saul #bcs #dom!lalo salamanca

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b-afterhours · 1 month

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Avenue of Sins: Neon

A Sequel to Avene of Sins

SUMMARY: ‘90s. It’s the aftermath. Jaded, Bill and Alma navigate their new lives as they try to drag themselves out of the dark debacherous trenches they had once ensnared themselves in. It’s easy to forget their evils when a silver lining introduces itself into their lives but can they create a less hedonistic life that would be just as satisfying?

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

The completed first series can be read and found here.

Chapter Fifteen

April 10th, 1993

Dressed to the nines, they sat in a low-lit restaurant in a private booth in the middle of their 5-course dinner. They spoke about the amazing courses, perfectly arranged morsels topped with caviar or shavings from rare truffles. Still, then, silently, they agreed that the authentic street tacos they had eaten earlier for lunch were better than their first dishes.

Once the storm had cleared, they spent their day strolling around and found themselves at a farmers market and crafts sale. Alma had noticed how relaxed he was in public. He didn’t have his head on a swivel like he did in New York City. It was nice to see him leisurely walking about, spending time looking at craft items at various booths, and knowing he didn’t have a gun concealed on him.

Bill was talking about some scrap metal skull sculpture he had seen at the market that he regretted not purchasing as she looked out towards the other patrons in the restaurant. While some were dressed nicely, wearing designer clothes as they were, there were a lot of pastels and light colors in the room. She turned to look at Bill and thought they looked like they were celebrating someone's funeral rather than her birthday, which amused her.

“What’s the matter?” He said, clocking her curious expression. He stilled his fork as he turned to scan the area of the restaurant she had been looking out at. His lips puckered once he saw it too. “We’re yuppies,” he said, turning back to her with wide eyes.

Alma lightly laughed. “I mean.”

“Yeah. We’re everything punks hate now. Posers.” He nodded.

“Don’t say posers,” she said, disgusted by the word. “I don’t know. We just grew up,” she shrugged. “Now we're in a different lane, but we still stand out against these people.”

“They don’t know shit,” he said, taking a sip of his wine and making Alma laugh. “We deserve to be here just as much as everyone else.”

“Yes, I know.” She quickly agreed before he started to go on some rant about it.

They had left the restaurant satisfied, and she thanked him for her birthday dinner. Especially because he listened to her when she asked him not to tell the staff that it was her birthday and risk having them sing to her out of obligation in front of the whole restaurant.

Bill began driving to a dive bar. She suggested during dinner that they should go for a few drinks. He had to keep his knowing smile from spreading across his face when she said she wanted to go to The Rooster. He happily agreed because they were going there anyway. Now he didn’t have to actively coax it out of her with a feigned conversation about a nightcap. He got a little worried when, in the same breath, she also said that if he didn’t want to go, they could pick up Echo early. She looked at him with expectant eyes, wanting him to agree with the latter. Of course, he missed his daughter just as much, and she thought he would choose that.

“Yeah…” he pretended to be in thought. “But I want to spend more time with you.” He smiled when he saw hers tug at her lips and gazed down bashfully. The charm worked.

“You’ll see it in a second,” she said just before they turned down the street. Soon, a giant neon rooster could be seen shining on the facade of the building. “The giant cock,” she announced.

“I see,” he chuckled.

He parked in a gravel lot on the side of the building, and Alma tossed her black strappy platform heels in the backseat, which landed in Echo’s empty car seat. She replaced them with the Doc Martens that Bill urged her to bring in case her feet became tired. He had brought along his leather moto jacket, which he had owned for ages, to replace the blazer he had been wearing. As she fixed the laces on the boots, he was next to her, unbuttoning a few top buttons of his shirt and then going on to roll the sleeves up halfway. She took her ID out of her little clutch purse for him to hold on to before shoving the bag underneath the passenger seat.

Stepping out, they approached the front door, where Alma saw the tall, stocky bouncer she was familiar with manning the door, but just as she was going to wave at him, he walked inside without any acknowledgment towards her. Well, it had been a while since she had seen him, she thought to herself.

Bill looked down at her with a smile. “You look so pretty. Here, get in front of me. You know this place better than I do,” he said, stepping behind her and his hand out above her, pushing the door open with his long arm.

She was hardly inside the dim smoke-hazed bar when she was startled by a flash of a camera, the snap of glitter poppers, and the sound of kazoos and cheering that her back pressed against Bill as she recoiled.

“Happy Birthday!!!” Her friends shouted from the left side of the semicircle bar. It was decorated with a rainbow of balloons and crepe paper streamers.

“Shut the fuck up,” she said in shock, clutching onto herself as speckles of multicolored foil glitter floated down around her.

They started chanting her name, and even the ragtag patrons of the bar joined in. She looked up at Bill, who had a smug grin on his face, knowing she hated this. She was too sober. If she had had a few drinks, she would have joined in on chanting her own name. He started pushing her along by the small of her back, and her friends began to greet her. He noticed that Darby only gave her a fist bump and was pleased with that. He knew they were platonic and that he was engaged, but they worked closely. He wondered.

While Alma was thanking Ulyssa and Gregory for decorating. Ash waved at him, waiting for her turn for a hug.

“Alright okay. She’s here, can we get some shots now?” Darby hollered over the music coming from a jukebox once everyone greeted her.

“Right! Yeah,” Alma said, turning behind her, and then she screamed. “Queenie!?” She said hugging her, her face covered in her loose coil curls.

“I managed to get away to see you on your birthday, girl!” She said holding on to her and swaying with her in her arms. “I missed you!”

“Me too. I’m actually so surprised!”

Alma gave her a warm kiss on the cheek and then joined everyone that had gathered by the bar, while Queenie stayed a few paces behind with Bill. He had known of her arrival. She had asked if it was okay if she could come to Alma’s birthday party when she overheard him tell Bianca he was planning it. He said it would be fine—in fact, he liked the idea—but it came with some stipulations, of course. He booked her at the same hotel where he first stayed when he visited Seattle. It was even the same suite. He could always mark it as a business expense.

“Hey boss, you look nice!” She said, giving him a high five.

He winked at her. “You found this place alright?” He wondered because he had passed along phone numbers to keep himself from being caught.

“Yeah. Ulyssa helped me out with the address and the taxi knew where I needed to be. I got in late, though. There was a huge storm this morning and I was delayed, but I’m here. It’s nice! Feels fresh here. Well, not here but in Seattle.”

Bill chuckled. “What have they asked?” He nodded his head in the direction of the record shop collective.

“I told them everything,” she joked. “Nah, nothing. Only bar stuff. I worked with Alma blah blah. But what’s the matter if they know anyway?” She said fixing the tuck of her satin champagne-colored blouse.

“I just don’t want to blow up Alma’s scene, I guess.”

“Eh. They seem chill, though. Anyway,” she said, tapping his arm. “Let's go get a shot! I’ll order it for you since I don’t have to make it.”

Queenie gently pushed through Alma’s friends and leaned half her body on the bar, gaining the attention of the goth bartender and ordering a round of Sex and Violence shots for everyone.

“It’ll be on his tab,” she said, turning back to look at Bill with a mischievous grin.

"Yeah, sure,” he smirked.

Once everyone cheered with their shots, they pulled away a bit from the bar. Creating space for Bill to claim a seat right at the end, he pulled a cigarette from his pack of smokes to place between his lips. A fish bowl full of matchbooks sat in front of him, and he reached in to pull one out. The front had the mascot rooster printed in technicolor and the phrase “The Place With The Giant Cock” encircled it, and he chuckled to himself.

“Can I get you something?” The goth girl pointed a hand at him, a half-step away, to help another customer if he said no.

He felt fingers on the top of his head. It was Alma picking out a few pieces of foil glitter from his hair. She was now donning a plastic birthday tiara Ulyssa bestowed upon her. She spoke up for him and ordered his usual whiskey and a draft beer for herself. She leaned her back on the bar and narrowed her eyes at him. He took his time lighting his cigarette and shook the flame off the match, pretending he couldn’t feel her eyes on him.

“You’re not sneaky,” she said to him.

He took a deep drag before speaking. “Hm, I think I got you this time.” He was peering at her as he blew a trail of smoke above them.

“Thanks, love.”

“I had help,” he nodded. “But you’re welcome. Happy Birthday,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. Once their drinks were before them, they tapped them together and took a sip.

“Change for the jukebox?” Ash said, jiggling a few coins in her hands.

“I got some pennies,” a guy with a mullet sitting at the bar smugly piped up, answering her.

“Jesse,” she sneered, putting her hand up to him dismissively. “Shut up. You don’t have to announce that you’re broke. It’s embarrassing.”

"Oh, c’mon, Ashley!” He patronized.

She kept her hand up in his direction and turned to Alma, who had her hand out for Bill’s loose change that he dug from his pocket. She picked out the pennies and the lint while she laughed at Ash’s interaction. They were familiar with the barflies of The Rooster. When she started working at Sheisty Sound, they’d often meet back up at the bar, getting drunk and making friends with guys who’d buy them drinks for sport. Bill could sense there was some history there and found it amusing.

Gregory approached fist-bumping Bill, took the change Ash collected to add to his, and headed to the jukebox. Bill found him to be a bit quiet. A mysterious poet type with pretentious music taste and great hair.

“Wait? Gregory is picking the music?” Darby piped up. “He’s gonna bring the place down!”

“Well, go with him!” Ash gestured towards the jukebox.

He quickly chugged his beer and sat the empty glass on the bar before jogging over to the jukebox.

“Fuck,” Ash sighed. “Let me help them. Darby is going to sneak an oldie in there!” Her slinky floral patterned maxi dresses swooshed around her calves as she hastily joined them.

“This is mostly what it’s like in the shop sometimes,” Alma giggled as she took a sip of her beer. Bill was stamping out his cigarette in a red glass ashtray as she spoke. “One night we were all here, kind of like this, and we all stood at the jukebox for what felt like an hour, fighting over what should play.”

Bill saw her take another small sip, but before she could pull it away from her rouged lips, he placed his fingers on the other end of the glass to get her to drink more. She paused, but he was insistent. She turned away and proceeded to drink the rest down without his help.

“You don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow,” Bill reminded her. “When was the last time you’ve gotten drunk?” He said, signaling to a male bartender behind the bar and ordered her a mixed drink.

“Last night?”

“I’ve seen you drunk, Alma.”

“This past summer, no, wait, at the penthouse.”

“Hmm, that was tipsy. Well, I want you to have some fun tonight. And also, I hate to say this, but back off me,” he said, looking her up and down.

Alma’s top lip drew back with offense. “What the hell? What happened to ‘I want to spend more time with you’?” she mocked.

“Your friends are here. Queenie is here,” he said, turning his head behind himself and seeing her speaking to Ulyssa. She was the only other person in the mix she could speak freely to. “You’ve had me to yourself these few days, you’ll live.”

She gasped. “I see these fuckers all the time.”

“I don’t care. It’s lame, you know it.” He said, passing off the drink, the bartender set down to her.

“Whatever,” she said, kissing him. She shook her head to herself as she ventured off to the jukebox, effectively pushing Darby out of the way, but he still stood there, giving his suggestions.

The jukebox started playing upbeat hits, and it seemed to get everyone in the bar into more of a party mood. Alma's birthday balloons were starting to drift around the bar. Some were kicked or bumped around by dive bargoers. He was on his third whiskey when he watched Alma bent over a pool table on the other side of the bar, breaking the pool balls for Gregory and some grungy guy playing with him. He handed her a shot, which she happily took. He didn’t take it as her teasing him, but he liked seeing the power she possessed over men sometimes. Even him. He wasn’t afraid to admit that.

After that shot, Alma and her girlfriends began dancing together in front of the jukebox, and Darby came over to Bill's side of the bar to join him.

“It’s kind of getting late,” he said, pulling his Levi jean jacket closed as he situated himself on the barstool two seats away. “Well, for me anyway. I have to open,” he laughed. “I’m not complaining, by the way. It’s a short day on Sundays anyway.”

Bill nodded, not taking any offense.

“Can I bum a smoke off you? Smoked my last one,” he frowned apologetically.

Bill passed his pack to him. “I saw you and your fiancee's wedding invitation at Alma’s place the other day,” he said, making conversation.

What he wasn’t going to tell him was how he was laughing along with Alma about his name. Cartwright Darby the Fourth. It sounded fitting for a soap opera star. Afterward, he discovered that Darby actually came from old Seattle money. Shunned because he pursued a fine arts degree and then semi-disinherited for quitting his private tutoring career to work in a record store. His fiancee also came from that world, and her own father was pretty upset with him too, especially because he couldn’t dissuade his daughter’s love.

“You coming? It’s extended to you as well.” He gestured.

“I appreciate that.” He said not mentioning if he would because it was dated on the weekend before his own birthday.

“It's gonna be at this really manicured private garden that overlooks the bay. There’s going to be a huge tent for the guests at the reception, or so Jenny tells me. I offer my suggestions; she’s sweet, but she couldn’t give a shit,” he chortled before taking a light drag of his cigarette. “Her dad's paying, but I’m in charge of the honeymoon.”

“Where do you plan on going?”

“St. Barts. You’ve been?”

“Nope.” Bill shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh. It’s nice. Uh,” he said, looking a bit ashamed for a moment. “I went about ten years ago. High school grad’ present. I know how it sounds.” He rolled his eyes at himself.

“I think it sounds nice,” Bill reassured him.

“Have you been anywhere like that?”

“Mm. Not. Not yet. For a while, it was hard to get away from my job. Until recently, so yeah, hopefully sometime soon.” He said, grabbing his pack of smokes back for one.

“The bar, right? Or business?”

"Well, both,” he shrugged.

“You must be super busy. New York City is a beast.”

Bill clicked his tongue and nodded. “Yeah,” he said shortly after lighting his cigarette. He stole a glance at Alma, who had paused to speak to a small clique of chicks who seemed to be complimenting her dress as she showed it off.

“How’s this place fair as a bar to you?”

Bill grinned, amused. “Eh, it’s a dive bar. You can’t really have high expectations. You get what you get,” he said, taking a drag. “The place I run is like a lounge in a way. A lot of gentlemen frequent. Stockbrokers, travel salesmen, lawyers, corporate fuckers, politicians.”

“No shit. Now that sounds nice.” He said, pointing at him with the two fingers that held his cig.

Bill smugly smiled. “Yeah, it can be most nights.”

A group of guys had walked in at the same time Queenie rounded the bar to sit next to Bill. She was glad he liked to brood in dark corners away from most people because she needed a breather. In the group, a gentleman recognized Darby and walked over to say hello. Bill turned to Queenie to ask what she had planned for tomorrow, and she was explaining how she was going to a spa to treat herself.

“And then I’m gonna check out the record shop.” She said, but Bill was only half listening.

“Who’s birthday?” Bill overheard the skater guy in baggy clothing ask Darby when he pointed toward Alma. She resumed dancing with her friends, but the group of girls she spoke to and other patrons had gathered to dance too. “Oh!” His brows raised. “The Latina babe, you work with.”

Queenie overheard as well, and her eyes darted towards her boss, who took a deep breath and rolled his eyes in annoyance. She knew how he was about her.

"C'mon, dude,” Darby said, annoyed with his friend as well. “Her name’s Alma. Her boyfriend’s right behind us,” he said, turning towards Bill apologetically. He just gave the guy a curt nod and proceeded to scowl at him, completely unimpressed.

“Oh shit,” he said, making contact with Bill’s dark gaze. “That’s my fault, dude. I don’t mean anything by it.” He said with his hands up defensively. He excused himself out of embarrassment and sheepishly made his way to the other side of the bar with his friends.

“Sorry about him. He’s a dumbass,” Darby said, walking over to the pool table to see if his turn was next.

“Oooh!” Queenie wiggled her fingers at Bill playfully.

“Stop,” he chuckled into his glass before taking a sip. “So. I thought Keiko was coming with you?”

Queenie set her drink down, leaned back in her bar chair, and let out a harsh exhale. “Something came up,” she said with air quotes. “She’s getting into her modeling thing, and I don’t know maybe I’m not right for her image. I think she’s gonna dump me.”

“Ouch.” He was right not to hire her. “Because of her image?”

“Mhm,” she nodded with puckered lips. “Whatever. I gotta stop dating straight girls.”

Alma approached, squeezing herself into the space between the stools he and Queenie sat on. She gathered her hair in one hand to get some air on her sweaty neck and took a break herself. Her eyes were low. On a tipsy buzz, she wanted to maintain and ordered another drink.

“You’re not drinking?” She noticed Bill’s nearly empty glass that sat next to a glass of water in front of him.

“I’m driving.” He had his cheek resting in his palm as he looked at her with an amused expression.

“True,” she said, grabbing her shot of tequila off the bar and shooting it back. “Oh shit!” She said when she saw some familiar faces come into the bar.

In came three big biker guys with beards of various lengths and their Harley Davidson leather. The one leading the others wore a weathered cowboy hat that had the sides of the brim folded in. He took it off when he saw Alma.

“Just dropping by. Happy Birthday, Miss Lucio.” She thanked him and quickly introduced Bill, and they shook hands.

“Big Rod. Those fools behind me are Archie and Zeph.” They gave Bill a friendly nod. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to buy the birthday girl a drink,” he said to Bill politely with his gravelly voice.

“She deserves it, I think.” He winked at her.

Queenie sat there wondering how Alma knew these biker guys until Ulyssa approached her to ask if she wanted to smoke on the back patio. Bill overheard that too. If he wasn’t going to get drunk, at the very least he could feel good and relaxed with that. It’ll wear off before the bar closes. Alma walked away from the bar with the biker guys, talking about some show dates.

“I’ll be back,” he said with a hand on her hip, leaning into Alma’s ear as he followed the girls to the opposite side of the bar, weaving between patrons on the sticky floor.

They were sitting at a wooden picnic table with benches, tucked in by the other patrons outside who weren’t doing much to conceal that they were smoking joints just as they were about to. He passed a group who were listening to a guy with an old, defaced acoustic guitar strumming a placating tune, and he hoped he just wouldn’t start singing.

“Hey!” Queenie waved. “I was going to ask if you could come, but I didn’t know if you wanted to leave Alma with those biker dudes.”

Ulyssa lightly laughed at Queenie’s worry. “They look big and mean but they’re cool.”

“The main guy was polite, but it’s like, how the fuck are you gonna say no to him?” She took a hit and sharply inhaled, pushing the smoke further into her lungs.

“Yeah… I’m not too worried about them,” he said, grabbing the joint Queenie was passing off. “I got my last drink like an hour ago, and I’m getting a little… bored.”

“Bored? On your girlfriend's birthday,” Queenie playfully gasped, feigning shock.

“I’d rather be in the jacuzzi in the suite we’re staying at,” he said, exhaling smoke with a smirk.

“I fucking bet. You wouldn’t be so bored then, huh?” Queenie giggled, shaking her head. “So, how does Alma know those guys?”

“They run a makeshift bar when we have shows at the shop. Alma set it all up with them. Whoever works the shows gets tipped out from a percentage of it.” Ulyssa explained while Bill now took a deeper hit, but he pointed his hand at her and nodded, cosigning her explanation.

“No shit?” She said tilting her head towards Ulyssa and then looked back at Bill. “Alma’s a badass!” She pointed at him.

He passed the joint to Ulyssa, who took it with a smile. “Yeah. Who’d you think she learned it from?”

“Oh please!” Queenie scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Ulyssa listened on when Bill told them how he and Alma were mistaken for being in a band at the hotel. “To be fair, they had like an eighty percent chance. Nearly everyone is in some sort of band here.” She laughed, passing the joint back to Queenie.

As they were feeling the effect of their joint settling in, Ulyssa got curious and asked if her name was actually Queenie. She knew nearly everyone who worked at the club went by pseudonyms.

“Nah. I just prefer Queenie,” she said, shrugging with a goofy smile on her face. “My name’s Safiyah.”

“What was Alma’s?” she carefully asked, glancing over at Bill, who was taking a hit. For some reason, she had been too nervous to ask because she had never mentioned what she went by. She figured it was probably something embarrassing.

“She hasn’t told you?” Bill said, surprised to which she just shook her head. “Technically, you do know it, though. She went by Echo.”

“Oh!” She nodded, taking the joint he was passing. “That’s sweet.”

“What would your stage name be?” Queenie asked playfully nudging her.

Ulyssa's eyes went wide for a moment. “Oh god.” Her bashfulness made them laugh. “I can’t think of something on the spot like that,” she burst with laughter. The weed was now getting to her; she didn’t often smoke this much on her own. Her laughter made Bill laugh even more, seeing her being something other than skittish around him for once.

“Could I take a picture of you guys?” She asked once they settled. “For Alma. C’mon guys.” She said when she noticed their indifferent reactions to her disposable camera.

“You should be in it too,” Queenie said taking the camera and passing it off to a bargoer to take the photo for them.

Afterward, they smoked the whole joint down together with help from Gregory and another young coworker who had arrived named Matt, who joined them on the patio near the end of their smoke session. Luckily, they finished right as the guitar guy started crooning terribly.

He and the girls heard some commotion inside as they reached the back door. Bill became concerned and deliberately blinked his dry eyes, readying himself. When they walked back in, they began laughing, and then Bill whistled loudly while Alma was sitting on the bartop with her head tilted back, and a bartender was pouring a shot directly into her mouth. The commotion he heard was the bar patrons cheering her on. She put a hand to her chest when she swallowed, feeling the intense burn of the alcohol.

With a wedge of lime between her teeth, she slid off the bartop with Ash’s help, and the girls then pulled her away back to the makeshift dance floor. After grabbing a light beer, Bill veered towards the pool table when Darby called him over to play. They spoke a bit between the game.

“For how much?” Bill asked him, taking a sip of his beer as Darby lined up his play. The sale of the record shop came up.

“Hm. I’m not too sure. What could it be like,” he said just before throwing out plausible numbers.

“That, seems too high...”

“Yeah… You gotta account; it’s a music venue too. But the place needs work, so who knows?”

“What kind?” he asked, taking his turn.

“Mainly the roof. It rains here all the time and the fucker leaks. Since Lewis retired, he’s just kind of neglected the place. If he’s not there to see it, it doesn’t exist.” His lip curled for a moment when Bill sank his ball into a pocket. He was now losing. "Oh, wait,” he said when his attention was pulled towards the front door.

Darby’s fiancee had arrived at the bar, and he passed his pool stick to the same skater friend who commented on Alma to take his turn. He went by Ratz, and Bill felt it fitting. Bill saw how he greeted his fiancee by picking her up and spinning her around by the waist. Paying no mind to those around them. She was a pretty girl with thick winged liner and a classic look about her, with curves to match that complemented the greaser style Darby dressed in. Darby introduced them quickly before he snatched his pool stick back from Ratz, disappointed that he was of no help with his game.

“Echo is a little sweetheart,” Jennifer said to Bill as he positioned his pool stick. “I see she takes up after you. It’s those dimples.”

Bill smiled, thanking her, but then his attention was stolen when he saw Alma stumbling back from the bathrooms after he sunk an orange-striped ball into a corner pocket.

“Um,” he pursed his lips. “One second. Or I guess Ratz can take my turn.” He took long strides toward her, grabbing a hold of her arm to help her straighten out. She looked up at him through her mascara lashes. “I think you should sit down, love.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I just need another drink.”

“Hmm. I don’t know,” he chuckled. “Do you want me to carry you out in front of everyone later?”

Alma groaned, “Fine. I’ll get some water.”

“I’ll get it. Just take a seat over by the pool table.”

As he came back, Alma was putting her hair half up, feeling stuffy with it all down, making her warm. As she chugged a good majority of the water down, Bill was in front of her, pushing wisps of dark hair from her face away. She set the glass down, and she leaned forward, resting her cheek on his torso. The room was spinning, and she just wanted him to help her be still. Of course, it was completely out of his control, but the closeness helped.

“If you finish the rest, I’ll kiss you,” he said, persuading her.

She straightened up to finish the water, and he leaned down, obliging her. Trying to pull away, she held onto the lapels of his leather jacket, keeping him in place and deepening their kiss until their tongues met each other. He found his hands raking through the hair on the back of her head. Forgetting their setting inside the crowded bar, they were making out, which felt like times they had done so in the past.

“Uh?” Ratz uncomfortably cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

They were in the way of him being able to position the pool stick in a way that he would not hit them with it. Bill reluctantly straightened up and flashed him an annoyed glance. But he helped Alma get to her feet so they could get out of the way. A few paces away, he leaned against the exposed brick wall, lighting a cigarette. Putting a foot behind him on the wall, he grabbed Alma by the hip, caressing the sheer fabric of her dress for a moment so that she could comfortably lean on his knee. She wrapped an arm around his back and looked at him. So handsome. All two of him.

“Can I get a drag?” She said, pointing at the cigarette between his fingers. He placed the two long fingers holding it to her puckered lips, and she took an inhale. Even if she had quit, a drunk cigarette always felt like a treat to her. Bill smirked to himself, seeing how her eyes closed with a satisfied grin on her face as she slowly exhaled curls of smoke out her nose.

He tilted her chin up, feeling compelled to kiss her again. “You feeling better?”

“Hmm,” she scrunched her face. “Now that I’m with you again.”

He took a drag, nodding his head. He did feel better too, but he could see her dancing girlfriends taking glances at them, trying to find an opening to whisk Alma away.

“Don’t tell me to back off again. It’s rude,” she said, blinking her eyes trying to focus them. “You told me to hang out with my friends and it’s been you mostly hanging out with them.”

He chuckled as he blew out a trail of smoke through the side of his mouth. “I won’t do it again. But I think your friends want you to go dancing with them not me. You should go.”

She turned her head to look behind her, and she saw Ash waving her over as she danced between two strangers. She turned back, looking unsure.

“C’mon. Aren’t you having fun?”

“I am. I needed this,” she said, wrapping her other arm around him. “But I miss my baby.”

He soothingly rubbed her back. “Yeah… Go dance. There’s like an hour left.”

Alma took a deep breath and straightened up. He shook his head to himself as she watched her join them and returned to finish his pool game. Dancing with her girlfriends to house music, she hoped to sweat some of the alcohol off. It wasn’t helping. She could still feel her head spinning, and spinning around with her friends didn’t make it any better. Shortly, the lights went up, and the last call was announced.

“Let’s get one more shot!” Queenie said to her.

Alma just swallowed hard and nodded as she was dragged along by Queenie. She felt clammy while the bartender poured their shots in front of them. Bill approached to pay the tab and cringed, knowing that would be it for her.

…

Alma woke up the next day with a pounding headache and a sour mouth. She smelled of the liquor seeping from her pores and stale cigarettes. Her body was so sore that it hurt to stretch. She groaned and whined as she tried to straighten up. She was in only panties and one of Bill's black t-shirts. She couldn’t even remember getting back to the hotel. She didn’t even remember leaving the bar.

“You alive?” Bill said coming in from the living room area. He was freshly showered, wearing a light sweater and soft-fit lounge pants.

She put her hand up, shaking her head to herself. “Fuck off,” she whined.

He laughed. “Alright. I’ll leave you alone,” he said, walking back to the couch.

When she managed to peel herself out of the bed, she took a glance at herself in the bathroom mirror and cringed. Her hair was disheveled and knotted, sprinkled with confetti. The red lipstick she wore stained her lips and feathered out over the border of them. Her eyes were completely blacked out with smudged kohl liner. She went straight to the shower after she had taken the aspirin Bill had left on the nightstand next to her. She was in the steamy shower forever, enjoying how her achy muscles relaxed and her headache slightly dissipated. She remembered the fun she had at the bar. It felt like old times, however. this hangover did not.

Bill was sitting with his arms crossed and knees spread far apart as he slouched on the couch, watching an old spaghetti western, when he saw Alma naked from the waist up. Wearing a pair of white granny panties and her hair wrapped in a towel, passing by the bedroom threshold. She looked tired and just done with life in general, and he smirked. As she pulled on an oversized band tee, she tended to herself. She had bought it from a merch table at the shop while the music act played. She liked the design more than anything. She moisturized her face and hands, feeling dry. Her dehydrated body had her involuntarily chug down the glass of water Bill had left for her when she took her birth control. He could hear her gasp for breath after she finished it.

Bill thought that she would join him, but there was only silence to be heard from the room. He got up and found her looking paralyzed, lying on her back sideways in the bed.

“You hungry.”

“No.” She said with her eyes closed.

“We have to pick up Echo at noon.”

“Yeah.”

“Or I can just go by myself?” He said crawling into bed with her and laying his head on her chest. The weight of him was comforting.

“I’ll go.”

They lay together silently for a while. For a moment, with his ear close to her heart, he noticed how even it beat as well as her breathing. He thought she had fallen asleep until her arm went up behind him so she could pet his soft hair.

“I didn’t say bye to anyone last night. Even Queenie. I’m such a bitch.”

“You did. You thanked all your friends. And Queenie left with us. I took her back to her hotel.”

“Oh.”

“Mhmm. You were passed out during the ride, but when I woke you up, you walked on your own back up here too. I was impressed.” He said even if he did have to hold on to her for support. “But I knew that last shot you took blacked you out.”

“I should have scored coke at the bar. I don’t do it anymore, but this shit sucks.”

“Well, you managed okay without it. You had fun without it too. It would have made your hangover right now like ten times worse.”

“I’m too old for this shit.”

Bill chuckled. “That’s exactly why I know.” He said thinking back to New Year’s Eve.

“You know what would help?”

“What?”

“A drink,” she giggled. “Hair of the dog.”

Bill chuckled. “Maybe some food too.”

“Yeah… and an orgasm.”

“Can we do that one first?” He asked, planting scratchy kisses on her neck and making her laugh.

…

Alma was eating fast food fries on the car ride to Yolani’s place to pick up their daughter. She was wearing oval-framed sunglasses to conceal her tired eyes and block out the searing light. On their way there, he remembered how, during the car ride, she had briefly gained enough consciousness while he spoke to Queenie who sat in the back seat.

“What Alma?” He glanced at her as he drove. She was slumped against the passenger window, her eyes barely open, but she was looking at him.

“Why… the fuck do you have a condom in your wallet for?” While she said it rather slowly, it was still purposeful.

“Jesus,” he said under his breath. “It’s old. I forget it’s there.” She just continued looking at him. “I’ll take it out.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay…” she mumbled. He glanced at her again; she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Too heavy to fight it, she passed out again.

“Sorry,” Bill chuckled, looking at Queenie through the rearview mirror.

“Close one,” she joked. “She seems to have enjoyed herself tonight. She’s not without the baby much, is she?”

“No,” he sighed. “I noticed she’s been getting a little eh,” he said with his hand out twisting it at the wrist. “So I arranged this night.”

“She told me a little bit about her schedule sounds nuts, especially caring for Echo through all of that.”

“Yeah, and she’s a bit too stubborn to, like, ask for a break…”

“Mhmm. It’s tough, though. Lots of moms feel guilty admitting that. I’m sure once she comes back to the city, it’ll be better.”

As Bill recalled his conversation with Queenie, it clicked. Guilt. That’s what was going on with her. Guilt that started when Echo had her accident yet had been festering inside her for concealing her existence. When he asked if she felt indebted to him, she never said she didn’t. That bothered him a bit. He didn’t want her to atone for the rest of her life. That wasn’t a way to live. But she once told him she’d be sorry for the rest of her life.

He was being selfish by asking her to move and bitching about her job. One she loved, one she was going to give up to be an accountant for. A subject she found incredibly dull. Leaving her friends behind to keep track of their finances for the rest of her life? He realized that she was going to do whatever he wanted of her. He felt his stomach turn slightly, but he pushed those thoughts down. Luckily, Alma was distracting him by feeding him fries while he drove.

Bill had followed Alma up the sidewalk as they reached Yolani’s place. He was just as happy as Alma was to see Echo. As they approached, they saw her outside in her little overalls, marking the porch up with sidewalk chalk.

"Look, Echo,” Yolani said, pointing at her parents approaching behind her. “Look who’s here.”

Echo, who was kneeling on a porch step, paused filling the concrete with purple chalk scribbles, and turned her head. When she saw her parents, she abandoned the chalk stick and scrambled off the step onto the walkway with a big, cheesy smile on her face. She took clumsy, hurried steps towards her mother with her arms out.

“Mama!” She squealed.

Alma smiled brightly, scooping her up in her arms and hugging her tightly. “Baby, I missed you!”

Bill's heart grew by their interaction. Even under the overcast skies, they shone when they both turned to look at him with matching smiles on their faces. Things were setting in motion in his head then, even if it hadn’t quite clicked yet.

#bill skarsgard #my bill writings #avenue of sins #aos neon #aos

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