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roxygen22 · 1 month

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Still Here (Chapter 12)

Summary: Timothée spends Christmas with you and your family. A happier chapter than the last two.

C/W: Brief mention of parent's death

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Both you and your mother insisted that Timothée come over and spend the night on Christmas Eve so he would not wake up alone Christmas Day. It had only been three weeks since his father passed, and you knew the holiday was going to be hard for him.

Timothée showed up as you and Madison were making cookies in the kitchen. Long past the days of knocking, he let himself in. "Where are my favorite girls?" he called out in a sing-song voice as he made his way through the house. "Aha! Found you!" he shouted when he popped his head into the doorway, sending Madison into a fit of giggles.

He gave her a side hug and a kiss on the top of her head, then walked around to your side of the island counter. "You, uh, got a little something right...there," he said as he swiped the dot of flour on your nose with his index finger.

"Oh yeah?" You grabbed his face with your flour-coated hands and pulled him in for a kiss. "You have something - there," you snickered as you gestured to his entire face. Madison's laughter continued to fill the air.

"And what are you laughing at, missy?" You turned to her. "Seems like you are the only one with no flour on them. I think we should fix that, Timmy."

Timothée grinned ear to ear. "Seems only fair." You each grabbed a handful of flour and playfully stalked toward her. It turned into a messy game of tag as you all chased each other around the kitchen island.

You skidded to a stop when you spotted your mother standing in the kitchen doorway. She stood with her hands on her hips, just shaking her head.

"Oh, uh, hey Mom."

"We'll get this cleaned up, Mrs. [Y/N]," Timothée added, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Where's the fun in that?" She quick-stepped to the flour jar to grab a handful herself and dumped it on your head.

Madison gasped, "Nana!"

"What? She was the cleanest of all of you. Figured she needed to be brought down a peg or two." She looked at you and winked.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "By that logic, you're next!" You and your mom stalked each other around the island until until you caught her in a big hug and patted flour all over her back. You both could barely breathe from laughing so hard. The two of you had gotten much closer since you moved back in, and after Timothée lost his dad, you were determined to make the most of the time you had left with your parents.

<><><><><>

After you got yourselves and the kitchen cleaned up, it was time for Madison to get ready for bed. She came prancing out of her room in her footie pajamas to give goodnight hugs to her grandparents. She stopped at Timothée.

"Will you be here in the morning?" she asked.

"Of course! There's no place I'd rather be."

The girl smiled. "Good." She hugged him and headed toward her room. You started to follow when she turned back. "Can Timothée come, too?"

You looked at him and shrugged. "If he wants to." You held out your hand to help him up from the couch, knowing he wouldn't turn her down. He was wrapped around her little finger.

The two of you followed Madison to her room and flanked each side of her bed. You tucked her in as Timothée sat on the edge of the bed. She held out her arms for one more hug from each of you, to which you gladly obliged.

"Now, you better go to sleep or Santa won't bring your presents," Timothée said cheekily.

"Silly. Santa's not real," she stated.

He faked a gasp and pulled a horrified face. "He's not?! Hmm, I guess that means I can have the cookies you left out for him."

Her hand shot out from under the covers. "NO! No. Please don't, just in case I'm wrong."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought," he said as he booped her nose. "Good night, kiddo." He leaned down for one more hug, then stepped out of the room. You kissed her forehead, turned off her lamp, and followed suit.

You spotted Timothée at the end of the hallway where apparently your mother had sneakily hung some mistletoe while the two of you were occupied. He pointed upward and smiled at you. "Join me under the mistletoe?" You sauntered up to him, not expecting him to spin and dip you before kissing you yearningly. "Our first Christmas together. Again."

"Merry Christmas, love," you replied as he stood you upright again and nuzzled his nose against yours.

<><><><><>

The next morning, Timothée sat next to you on the floor by the couch, coffee in hand, taking in the scene as Madison dove into her stocking and the first of her presents. He leaned over and whispered to you, "I never quite understood why my parents got so excited about Christmas morning, even more excited than me, until now. All that joy on her little face. It's addicting." You squeezed his hand and leaned your head on his shoulder.

After a bit, once everyone had opened at least one gift, Timothée brought out a package that he had been hiding behind the couch and set it in front of the girl. "Don't try to pick it up. It's heavy. This one...," he paused to clear his throat, "is from my dad." She looked at him, then you, puzzled. "He was going through some boxes in the shed a couple of months ago and came across something of mine from when I was a boy that he thought you might like to have. He...he asked me to set it aside for Christmas."

Madison gingerly opened the wrapping paper to find a round brown leather bag.

"Go on, unzip it," Timothée encouraged her. She slowly unzipped the bag to reveal a blue bowling ball. "You'll need to grow into it a little, but it's yours if you want it."

Madison's lip wobbled as she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "This...this is perfect." She launched herself into Timothée's lap for a hug. When she pulled away, her face lit up as she looked at you. "Mom, help me find my present for Timothée! Please!"

"That's okay, kiddo, it can wait until we get down to it."

"No, it can't. You'll see." You and she dug through the piles of presents until she spotted what she was looking for - a rectangular present haphazardly wrapped in shiny blue paper and three different colored bows on top.

"I wrapped it myself," she said proudly.

Timothée carefully slid his finger under an edge of the paper in an effort not to rip it. Once he opened one side, he gently slid the gift out. It was a picture of him and Madison together at the bowling alley in a frame that she decorated herself. On the back was a short, handwritten note:

Dear Timothée,

I'm glad we found you at the grocery store. Merry Christmas!

Love, Maddy

Timothée wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I love it, and I love you, too, kiddo." He pulled her in for a hug and buried his nose in her hair. "So, so much."

<><><><><>

Chapter 13

FYI: I am expecting for Chapter 13 to be the last one.

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer

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malereadermaniac · 1 year

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The Quarterback's BF ~ Hawks x Male Reader

Based on this tiktok that has been living in my head for a year now - yes it's DNF just ignore that lol

(Disclaimer, I don't know a single thing about sports, let alone American sports!!)

Quirkless AU - Slightly NSFW (no genitalia mentioned) - Fem/minor DNI

And the crowd goes wild!

Every single person from your college is cheering on the team as the dirty blonde quarterback scores another point for the college

As the referee flips the score over from 16 9 to 17 9 the quarter back with a big "TAKAMI" on the back of his shirt looks up at the crowd and waves charmingly

However, it wasn't towards the screaming fangirls that shaved their legs for tonight, he was actually waving at you - his boyfriend

Keigo's smug smile turned into a grin when you looked away with a cute smirk

Of course, the game ended with Keigo scoring a few more points and your team wining, leading to a very cringey yet slightly adorable and very hot celebration for your boyfriend

In which he walked over to the bleachers and kissed you hard, in front of the whole school - embarrassing for you, but a huge ego boost to the blonde

Once the field had cleared out, and most of the people on the bleachers had left, Keigo walked over to you again and waved

"Hey pretty boy, do me the honor of coming back to mine?" Keigo said smugly

He liked doing that, pretending that he didn't know you just to use a new pick-up line he'd thought up on you

"I dunno, I'm already taken, can't you see?" You flirt back teasingly, turning around to show off Keigo's Sport jacket you and been wearing the whole night

The way you looked over your shoulder at him, and the way his last name covering your back with a huge "69" underneath made him feel like he owned you - it all turned him on so much

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind~" Keigo said back, pulling you into his sweaty body and kissing you

His hand on the back of your head and the other around your waist, his warm lips and tongue felt great as he took control over the kiss and man-handled you over his lap as he sat down on one of the benches

"Jeez, you're such a horny man~" you say with a chuckle, breaking from the kiss and looking down into your boyfriend's sexy eyes

"What can I say, you make me like this~" you both laugh

"Oh yeah? How badly do I make you wanna plow me over this bench right now?" You tease, putting more of your weight on Keigo's crotch

"Ngh~ So bad~ I'd do anything for you, (Y/n)" Keigo whined

Fuck he was so hot

"Really? Would you buy me a ring? A house? Let me use you like a dildo whenever I want, Handsome?" You teased, you loved to tease him

"Fuck, (Y/n)! You do things to me~ Yes I'd buy you anything! I'd buy that ring and pop that pretty little question right now!" Keigo moaned slightly, his face looking faded but with pure lust rather than weed

"OI! YOU TWO STOP THAT AND GO GET A ROOM!!" You heard Coach Aizawa shout at the two of you and you felt an empty water bottle hit your back.

The two of you chuckled, to be fair it looked like you two were ready to film a porno by the way you were sat and acting

Keigo rearranged his jacket that was slipping off you and you both got up

As you both walked off the field and over to Keigo's car, you held onto his arm and talked about your day, taking in your boyfriend's manly scent and feeling his warmth

Lucky for you two, the parking lot was now empty

And as soon as you and Keigo sat down in his car, shit hit the fan

He'd been waiting the whole night to tear your clothes off of you, and he did just that

The moment the car doors locked you and Keigo were making out, as in sloppy, hot making out as he sloppily stripped you down, then doing the same to himself

As you two were literally just in socks and underwear, you reclined your seat until Keigo was on top of you kissing you

For the next 2 hours the car windows were steamed up, hand-prints on the window and sweat covering the seats,

Lucky for you the car had good suspension(???) So if anyone was around they wouldn't see the car bouncing up and down as Keigo rearranged your guts so, so, SO good

Quite the way to celebrate a victory~

#gay #male reader #fanfic #anime #bnha #x male reader #keigo tamaki #keigo x reader #mha hawks #mha fanfiction #light smut #hawks x male reader #hawks x reader #keigo x male reader

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thegoldenavenger · 5 months

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I can't! Stop! Thinking about!!!! Liu Qingge doesn't know he was supposed to die! He doesn't know! I mean he says he has a life debt to SQQ but does he know that? He's Liu Qingge, War God of Bai Zhan Peak, king of fighting or whatever, does he actually know he was going to die without intervention there? He was surprised sqq didn't take advantage of the situation to kill him, so when sqq chose to help instead, when he held lqg's life in his hands, then yeah, of course lqg knows he escaped death. But does he know he would have died if sqq had chosen to do nothing at all? That the stakes weren't SQQ will either kill me or save me but that he would die if no one tried to help?? That he wouldn't be able to pull through this one on his own? That his undefeated streak would end because of his own bad habits??

And he has a life debt now, and likes his martial brother now, and everytime he can help, sqq either rebuffs him or literally has lqg help him throw himself off a cliff or something. Lqg is the most suspicious of sqq! He does not believe sqq has changed, so what did he rationalise his own behavior with? Im helping to keep an eye on him. Keep him close so I see what's coming faster. He must have saved me for a reason, a trick or a debt.

When sqq shows he's actually, you know, friendly, lqg must think. Ah, a debt then. Clear the slate. He gets into enough trouble that makes sense. I'll just repay the debt and won't have to worry about any tricks or whatever he has up his sleeve. And then sqq is like "actually I'd rather die three times, thank you!"

He doesnt know! His narrative purpose has changed from "Dying to condemn Shen Qingqiu" to "being alive to save Shen Qingqiu"

And Shen Qingqiu REFUSES!! to let him do that.

And Liu Qingge doesn't know! Like, Luo Binghe knows! Luo Binghe has seen what he was supposed to become, if Shen Qingqiu had been different. He's seen how lonely and despicable he is meant to be. He knows, as much as he can, that his life was irrevocably changed by the hands of his beloved, that in a world slightly to the left he would have been miserable and alone.

But Liu Qingge was supposed to be dead.

#svsss #and!!!! he doesnt know it!!!!#UGH UGHUGUUGH #liu qingge #misc #im Not over this!!#doomed by the narrative and then doomed by your critically dense shixiong to forever third wheel #sorry his narrative purpose went from 'dying to further the plot' to 'being alive to found ancient china's first uber service'#but that isnt as snappy

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yumethefrostypanda · 9 months

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Hi yume! I have three questions I would like to ask you...

What do you think about these two photos? do you think Simon is really like that under the mask? (in my opinion it might look more like the first photo, but I don't know. Many say it's the second because it looks more like Samuel, but honestly, the haircut of the first is very similar to the scene where he takes off the mask.)

In your opinion, how would Simon behave in a social context? (for example going out alone, taking a bus or any other public transport.) do you think he would still keep the mask on, or would he cover himself with something else?

How would Simon behave with children (you know, in the comic he had a nephew who was very important to him.) What do you think he would do if maybe a small child, in the park with his/her mother, approached him curiously and touched him? or are there kids throwing the ball in his direction by accident? would he kicks the ball back to them?

Thanks in advance, you are the best!🫶🏻❤️

I love your answers and everything you post! (I'll never stop saying this, sorry...🥲)

Hey Sofia :D Thank you for your ask and sweet words 🥺 It's truly nice to hear you like my answers :D Appreciate your support 🫶 First things first ;p the art on the right is from Wombywoo, if i'm not mistaken. Alright, let's do this *cracks knuckles and neck, cause i always spend wayy too much time on answering my asks >.<*

1. You know.. headcanon-ing Simon's face is kinda fun cause his face is hidden :D Everyone can put their own thoughts in the mix. I thiink when MWIII is out, imma do a part 2 on Simon's face. Anyway, I remember that first photo (left) was on reddit, extracted from MWII files somewhere last year. It was already said that the hair was from Graves(?) and put on his head. I also think it's either a placeholder or not finished since they've only used his 3D head for mask placement and the scene where he takes of the mask and we (only) see his fluffy short hair. It really wouldn't be a surprise if Simon's (face) features are alot of that from his VA, Samuel Roukin. I've seen every frame multiple times by now *edit life* and to me, it really looks like Simon has Roukin's eye shape and nose(for the most part). I loove the fact the devs stayed true to Simon's brown eyes *-* So what else did they stay true to? Or is it completely Roukin's face? We might never know :P But personally for me it's still 50/50. Half Roukin's face/ half comic Simon's face. Ok ok, maybe now more like 70/30. idc, just show me. No, don't! Yes!

2. Ooff, good question. I wonder if he uses public transport since he also can drive. (i'd rather take the car thn the bus ngl :P). At the end of the campaign with 141 and Laswell sitting in a bar, Simon still has his eye paint and mask on. Though be it another mask thn that he was wearing during the Chicago mission. So that makes me believe he conceals his face in his free time (outside), i'm not exactly sure how tho cause wearing a skull mask like that in public might alarm ppl? idk. I kinda lean more to the idea he isn't that among people much (being outside). If he already prefers to work alone than in a team (141 is a no brainer for him tho, imo) i don't really see him being out and about and social in his off time Q_Q And with all this online ordering, he gucci. But okok, i do see him do groceries and stuff. You know, basic stuff. He will have alot of hooded clothes, caps and what not. Corona must've been a 'delight' for him. (ok ill stop. sorry) I think he barely makes eyecontact, or just shortly cause he's friendly. He a good lad. Srsly don't waste your time on this next hc; You know.. what if he just lives in a very small village somewhere quiet in England where everyone knows eachother and he don't have to worry about all that outside shii cause everyone in that small village knows how he is. Easy peasy, live and let live. Often people in small villages are old cause many young move to the city. So them golden oldies in his town are just happy they have a soldier in their midst and respect his privacy. Buut.. thn again, the bigger the city.. the easier it is to blend. Oh well. Whatever XD 3. I THINK HE'S REALLY GOOD WITH KIDS! But doesn't show, is scared to show, etc etc all that. I even think if a kid is being bullied in his presence he would intervine. I'm sure of it. But i think he would avoid being around kids. If one's come up to him i think he will be friendly but not interested in a conversation or play ball. I'll let myself out

#IF YOU READ ALLL OF THAT LEMME GIVE YOU A SMOOCH #and sorry for wasting your time #ask yume #ghost #headcanon #simon ghost riley #call of duty

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kruegerslov3r · 6 months

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HEAR ME OUT!!!

i can’t live with that thought alone anymore, so i want you to live with it, too.

i think we all agree that simon is a man of action. yeah? and the thought that he would create a playlist for his lover, that reminds him of them.

SO HEAR ME OUT!!!!!!

i have prepared songs that i think simon would add to this very playlist.

so when simon leaves for another mission, his lover can turn on this playlist and feel the presence of simon through these songs

(hope you enjoy these songs)

(some lyrics)

... your lips are my vice now

your body my home

if i cannot have you

then i'd rather be alone

i think of you

i haven't slept

i think, i do

but, i don't forget

my body moves

goes where i will

but though i try, my heart stays still

it never moves

just won't be led

and so my mouth waters, to be fed

and you're always in my head

... there were times i couldn't even breathe (mmm)

but you never once abandoned me (no, you never, ooh)

i tried to scare you, scare you away

showed you the door, you adored me anyway

when i was broken in pieces

you were my peace of mind

ooh, i'd be nothing without you

ooh, there'd be no song without you, without you

when i'm down and out

and feel like there is nothing left for me

you save me

this place wouldn't be the same without you

you could say that it would be a little worse

there's just something about you

with you it is all more worth

oh, never did a woman do so much to me

oh, you've got some kind of hold on me

all the things that you do

you do it all so gracefully

oh, never did a woman do so much to me

the darkened skyline

outside my room

a kingdom that i

gave up to soon

to be with you

i think about that

most everyday

my life I think it's

it's gonna pass me by

so love me girl

this lonely world

won't bring me down

said it's from the heart

just let it breathe

let's fall apart

just you and me

coming straight from our heads

to the tip of our tongues

wanna live to my death

to the depths of our love, love

lover, don't let me down

'cause my stomach's been twisted for ages now

please, my woman, don't let me down

'cause i love you, i love you to the end of time

take care of me

talk all day then at night fall in deep

stimulate me

i want you mental and physically

i belong to

you

like water in the desert

impossible to find

uou found me when i was broken

put me back together, gave me life

you're the sun to the moon

you're my ocean, painted blue

you, i'm nothing without you

(without you, without you)

like an angel in a nightmare

you opened up my eyes

looking in all the wrong places

you're the one i needed this whole time

10.

i don't mean to be rude

there's things in myself that I see in you

lonely eyes

she had those lonely eyes

i only know 'cause I have them too

bask in all of the silence

in between our eyelids

where you are, I'm right there too

we might speak different languages

and we might have differences

but where you are, I'm right there too

#simon riley x you #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #Spotify

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sparkle-skitty · 8 months

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FANFIC PIECE/GLIMPSE

I spent a STUPID long time on just this ONE BIT here so I am showing it to everyone whether y'all like it or not

For the record, this is just a scrap from the fanfic I am writing (attempting to) and because I am not a linear writer*, everything here is subject to change if/when I get to stringing it all together more coherently. So basically, it's a demo.

I proofread it a few times, but it may not be perfect because I am tired and also was originally writing entirely third person instead of second person but found myself mentally scripting in second person - so if anything sounds wonky, I'm all ears!

(*Meaning, I do not write start to finish, I write exactly what I feel like writing regardless if it's chronologically next. The scenes are coming to me in patchwork!)

Anyway, click read more for the excerpt.

CW for: mentions of child abuse, mentions of bullying, very slight blood, very slight violence, emotional outbursts/shutdown (y/n is neurodivergent), dislike of children (again, y/n is neurodivergent), aaaand I'm not sure what else to tag so lemme know if something is needed

(For the record, y/n has some of me plus some other things I've seen with other neurodivergent people written into them so HOPEFULLY it sounds at least somewhat relatable to others in the community)

You nearly ran into one of the play structures, too interested in watching what was going on by the door to the Daycare. An adult was getting more and more agitated, while Sun held a child behind him, with unimpressed and shrugging daycare workers passing to leave as their shift had ended. The only one who had remained had been talking between the adult and Sun, but was now finally giving up with a very loud "ugh!", throwing her hands in the air as she turned away to clock out.

It was now out of sight, and you were quickly putting away the armful of toys you had carefully balanced against you into the trunks they belonged, in order to get back to the scene asap. Your Employee Fazwatch buzzed on your arm, at first making you growl "Ugh, now what?!" but your irritation evaporated as you realized it was a message from Moon.

"That adult is not one of the child's authorized pick-up persons."

Moon must have caught you staring through the cameras. You instinctively glanced up at where you knew the nearest one was, knowing likely Moon was staring back from his little cyberspace world in the Attendants' shared body. But you quickly turned heel and speed-walked over to Sun.

You were certainly frustrated that, once again, poor Sun had been left behind to deal with the remaining Daycare children alone, but you were more angry now that they had so purposefully let him take the fall for the rules and regulations that even Fazbear Entertainment had to follow by law.

"You'd think by now I'd be over this," you thought. "Not like I've never had a job before where everyone was only looking out for themselves." But you knew very well it was because it was Sun, your friend, the sweetest guy in the world (probably), that you took it so personally. And also, maybe a little because most of the workers still treated him like a mindless machine, aaand possibly because a child was involved in a potentially dangerous situation.

Okay, maybe it made a little sense to take it personally.

As you drew closer, you realized Sun's hold on the child wasn't to keep the child from going to the adult, but rather the opposite - to keep the adult from getting at the child. At every turn he was putting himself between the adult and the child, and the boy looked nervous to say the least.

Your anger suddenly sparked into a blaze of fury upon the sight. No matter how much your rational side tried to tell them that it could be only because the tone of the conversation was scaring the kid, your feral inner child was screaming for blood, having the scene be a bit too familiar and hitting too close to home.

Sun caught sight of you from the corner of his eye, and turned to look with relief that someone might be coming to rescue them, only to be a little taken aback by the absolute darkness that was emanating from your being. The dangerous glint in your eyes, the snarl that curved your lips, revealing teeth tightly ground together - it was something he hadn't yet seen from his new friend. But once you looked at him and you both locked eyes, he saw a metaphorical mask rapidly apply, especially as you noticed the man had finally looked to see what Sun had been gazing at.

The mask replaced the baleful expression with one far more bright, friendly, and chipper. Though the animatronic could see the cracks in the disguise himself, he knew it was practically impossible for any random person to see. He couldn't help but stiffen as you approached and settled beside them. He had only worked with you for a short time, but it seemed so out of character!

"Hi there!" you greeted, launching into your Customer Service Voice, enthusiastic with a great smile, your eyes crinkling. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The man waved his hand around in anger, "It's about time someone came, besides this damn robot!" Sun tensed at the word and the inflection, but stayed quiet, watching with interest at how you hadn't even flinched with the man's loud and sharp tone.

"I am so sorry about that, looks like we're the only two left in the Daycare right now! What can I help you with?"

"Tell this metal idiot to give me my nephew, will you? I'm already running late!"

You turned to Sun, smile never faltering. "Hey Sunny, is there a problem?" you asked openly.

Sun caught the hint and quickly replied, "This person has not been set as a designated guardian for this child in our system."

"Ah, well!" you turned back to the man glowering at the both of you. "I'm afraid that we can not legally allow you to take the child from the Daycare, sir. I'm terribly sorry, but I'm sure you can understand the reasoning here. Just imagine if those weren't the rules! Kids could be carted off by just any ol' person, even criminals and bad guys!"

As you spoke, you gestured - and even winked - with great enthusiasm. Your hyper-upbeat tone not once fell, but the language used was definitely a subtle accusation.

"I'm afraid you'll have to forgive my friend here, but that's the protocol!"

"I want a manager!" the man spluttered, now thoroughly furious.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, a hand going to your mouth before you tilted your head in a bow. "I'm terribly sorry, again, sir, but..." you then lifted both arms towards Sun, gesturing as if presenting him for the first time. "He IS the manager. It's his Daycare after all! He's the boss, the head honcho, the big cheese, emphasis on the big part," you quietly added to the end, tone now finally slipping to indicate the threat.

Sun couldn't help but also notice that you were doing your nervous trait of babbling and trying to joke. But he wasn't so sure this was anxiety or a matter of barely containing yourself.

"Please leave before we have to contact security," you said after a moment of silent fuming from the man, optimism now back but with an edge to it, giving firmness to the command. "If the rightful guardian or guardians can not come, they will have to contact us themselves to add you in. Otherwise, we will not be able to release this child to you."

The guy looked around a bit, grumbling and muttering angrily, before very suddenly lurching forward towards you. Sun's arm shot out automatically to snatch the man by the shirt, to stop him and lift him away, but to his shock you made your own automatic response of swiping at the man's face.

Blood swelled from parts of the claw marks on his stunned expression, but not enough blood to actually run. You had mostly gotten him to the side of his face as he had turned at the last second to look at Sun, traveling just a bit across his jaw and cheek.

The facade was dropped in an instant as you huffed and shook from the adrenaline, then shrieked, "TRY THAT AGAIN, I FUCKIN' DARE YA!"

"Language!" Sun quickly reprimanded you, glaring at you. You tore your gaze from the man's bewildered face to look at him, then looked away, snorting through your nose and folding your arms across your chest. He sighed in exasperation, knowing that sort of maneuver all too well from the children and, well, Moon.

"I am not a brat," Moon grumbled in his head.

"I didn't say anything!" Sun internally responded back.

You looked the man up and down, feet now off the ground as Sun held him firm, but he wasn't struggling. You snatched the radio out of your pocket and calmly made the call to security to remove the man from the premises.

Even as the man was escorted out, Sun's internal monitors showed your heart was still pounding away. But when you glanced at the child, your look softened to one of embarrassment, or shame? You knelt down next to him.

"Hey, sorry about that kiddo, that... must have been scary," you mumbled.

Your interactions with the children were always awkward. You had told Sun you hated kids, but on top of that also had no idea how to deal with them. Every time you were like a deer in the headlights, a newborn giraffe trying to learn to walk - unsteady, unsure, and bewildered by everything.

Sun had so far learned that you at least knew enough to be nice to the kids and to excuse yourself when it got to be too much, which was more than he could say for most of the daycare workers, which was ironic given that you were, well... a glorified janitor.

The child nodded, sniffling. There was a pause, and then the boy released Sun's pant leg and ran over to you, wrapping his little arms around you. You were surprised, then cringed.

"Um, there there..." you said, patting his back gently. To your horror, you realized he was still crying and sniffling. Sun watched with amusement as your face silently twisted into disgust. You looked up at him, pleading with him to get the child away somehow, but Sun shook his head, crossing his arms. This is now a punishment, he decided. He knew you wouldn't dare just shove the kid away.

------------------------------------

You were scrubbing at your shirt with several sanitary wipes. The snot might be gone by now, but you weren't sure and still felt unclean.

It seemed like it took forever for the child's actual guardians to show up, and Sun was not only doing the checkout, but also the report about what had happened.

You had allowed that child to tug your hands, hug you, and you even picked him up when he gestured so. Gross gross gross, little snotty kids were the worst. They had no sense of cleanliness or manners regarding germs. You shuddered at the thought of wondering if he even wiped himself, then flopped back into the security desk chair with a groan. To take your mind off your child-germophobia, you pulled out your phone and began a round of Candy Crush.

Your timeblindness caught you up again as you suddenly looked up to see Sun standing on the other side of the desk. He had his arms folded again, and wore a frown.

"That wasn't being a very good role-model, you know."

"Heck off, I'm not Daycare staff, so I don't--"

"Ah ah!" Sun cut you off, "You ARE Daycare staff, buster, even if it's just to clean, and as you so eloquently put it, I'm the boss here. And I say you need to be a better role model."

"Well personally I like their spunk," Moon snickered in his head. Sun ignored him.

There was a moment of silence between you two, before you shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh well."

Sun's eyebrow twitched with irritation. "Don't "oh well" me! You were cussing, AND you got physical with a customer--"

"Not a customer, just a dick."

"Language! Let's just hope you didn't teach the little one to solve our problems with anger and violence."

"Right, let's hope he never believes a grownup will stand up for him again in his life," you growled mockingly.

Sun was stunned, feeling frustration rise. He put his head in his hand and let out an exasperated sigh. "You can stand up for people without resorting to attacking others."

"Not always. Not every time." you answered lowly.

Sun noticed your heart rate was starting to climb again, and you were beginning to shake. Well, if there's one thing about this whole debacle that was a positive, it's the fact you make it so obvious when you're upset or angry.

"Let's calm down," he said soothingly. "This is just a discussion, you don't need to get angry--"

You stood bolt upright from your chair, your voice raising, "This isn't a discussion! You're chastising and-and-and down-talking and-and... belittling me! For defending myself! Because-because what? The kid might see it and-and think, oh man I-I-I should probably do something if someone... if someone just-just.... comes at me!" You were stammering and practically vibrating with the sudden spike in temper.

Sun leaned back with his hands up, a look of surprise on his face. "Woah, woah, woah! Hold on! I'm sorry if that's how I made you feel, but the rules--"

"DAMN THE RULES! The rules are out of order! Th-th-this whole court is out of order! Stupid! Fuck! AUGH!"

"Now that's enough--!" Sun cut himself off when you slammed your rear back into the chair and spun it, rolling it back in the process, and faced the wall. Hands crossed, face red, you slumped in anger and drew in on yourself.

Sun let the silence settle, giving you both time to relax, and for you to come out of your shut down. You pulled out your phone and started blasting aggressive music.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed wearily. "Y/n, please, I'm sorry," he started, voice calm but raised enough to hear over the music. "I am not trying to treat you less, I'm sorry I made you so angry..." he lifted his head up at a thought. "Wait... why are you so angry? You were furious before, too, when you were coming to check on us."

You didn't answer, but you had lowered your foot and were now bouncing your leg.

"Give it a minute," Moon spoke to Sun. He paused before continuing, a hint of a grin in his voice, "I have to say, it's interesting to see someone put themselves in time out."

"They've shut down, Moonie, you know what a shut down is."

Moon hummed. "They did choose to sit in a chair and face a wall, though."

"Can't you take this seriously?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of wheels on the floor. You had gently kicked off from the wall and were now rolling comically slow towards them. You had lowered your music, and still had a pout, eyes downcast, and your arms crossed. You bumped into the desk without a word.

More silence. Sun waited patiently, shoving down the anxiety trying to creep its way up. Nope! Not gonna go there!

Eventually, you swallowed your pride and spoke up. "I'm... sorry," you began slowly. "I lost my cool. It's been a while since I've dealt with... the public... on a, mm, personal level. And I'm sorry I scared the little guy." As you spoke, you turned the chair to sit properly at the desk, placing your elbows on it and clasping your hands.

You then looked up at Sun, and glared. "I'm NOT sorry about standing up for him. As a general thing. Even if I did it wrong."

"I'm on their side." Moon stated matter-of-factually. "...And don't you dare think what I think you'll think of that."

"The only thing I think of that is that you're both a bad influence on each other."

Sun's shoulders slumped. Well, it's a start, at least. He can work with this.

"Again, I'm sorry too, the rules are a bit of a... erm, a big deal to me, to put it simply." Sun stood poised to offer his explanation, even though Moon suddenly turned sour at the mere idea of talking about... that.

Meanwhile, you furrowed your brows, looking down at the desk again. You were also battling with bringing up some vulnerability, and chewed your lip. He did ask, but is it too awkward to bring up now?

You took a deep breath, "Anyway... I lost my cool because... I..." your voice trailed off with a drawn-out croak, but Sun didn't interrupt or interject. It took a minute for you to build your courage again.

"Well... when I was... a kid," you spoke haltingly, taking your time in order to keep your voice and emotions level. "I was... bullied. A lot. Really badly. Just for being weird, I guess, I dunno... And, nobody helped me. So I just, took care of it myself. Or, well, tried to." You glanced back up at Sun, "That's... ssssorta why I had that, uh, kneejerk reaction, when that dude tried to- when he just- when he came at me like that."

Sun and Moon were both listening intently. It wasn't often their human coworkers would open up, and in particular, you had made yourself a bit of an anomaly with your unpredictable statements and odd behaviour - an anomaly that they had taken a liking to, admittedly. Maybe they just liked anomalous people, since it seemed to be a pattern.

"That... doesn't quite explain what made you angry in the first place, though..." Sun said softly, not wanting to accidentally spook you from talking it out.

You sat back, your chin tucked in and your eyes cast down, and crossed your arms. Sun feared he had in fact actually caused exactly what he was trying to avoid, but you spoke back up.

"Yeah... yeah... the bullies... the worst ones were adults."

Boom. Bombshell.

Sun and Moon would have exchanged shocked glances if they had the ability to. Oh yes, they were well aware that adults could be bullies to other adults, including animatronics, but to kids? Unthinkable! The very notion sent their protocols in a little tizzy.

"Teachers, mostly," you continued. You took a deep, shaking breath. "But... then there were, of course... family members. Specifically my parents. Especially when I started getting into fights, oh they hated that. I was an embarrassment to them for not being like..." you waved your hand around, attempting to find the word, emotions building and causing brainfog. "Y'know, uh, demure and-and delicate and sweet and pretty and... and all that sh- crap..."

You settled back into the desk chair, your arms now laid against the arms of the chair. You still didn't look up, and began idly picking and clawing at the ends of said armrests. You took careful, slow breaths, trying to keep from bursting into a fit of some sort - most likely a crying fit, if anything. It'd been a very, very long time since you'd actually talked about all of this, and for precisely this reason.

"So, um, you can imagine - I think you can anyway - the kinds of things they did to try and--"

"They... they what?! They thought THAT was more embarrassing than their child being bullied!?" Sun exclaimed, flabbergasted.

The suddenness of his interjection widened your eyes for a minute, then you gave a laugh - a hollow, awful giggle that was laced with all the anger, hurt, anxiety, and vulnerability you were feeling at the moment.

"Um, yeah!? Kids will be kids, after all," you sneered mockingly. Not at him, but at the past. "I was just overreacting and causing a scene, of course." You slumped into the chair so low you could have easily slid out. "Of course..." you muttered. Your outburst had been sufficient to release all that negative energy you'd been building.

"So um... yeah... that's why I was... prrrrobably more than a little ready to go feral on that guy... He just had that vibe, you know? You know the one."

41 notes · View notes

markdelonge · 2 years

Text

best friends with Johnny Knoxville...

not my gif

note: im so pissed why is this so short :/

...

request?: yes

contains: profanity, pretty sure thats it

masterlist

...

• probably the most reckless duo on earth

• people get scared whenever the two of you are in a room together

the two of you are ALWAYS up to something. rather it be pranking each other or the crew, or having stupid ideas and going thru with them without thought. you guys are unpredictable.

• matching shoes omg

• or lil friendship necklaces (like the ones with half and half of a heart)

you guys have multiple friendships bracelets, necklaces, rings, ect, but, they break hella easy so you both have a bunch of half heart charms that read "best friends forever" laying around your houses

• get mistaken for a couple A LOT

once a rumor first started going around, you and Johnny were quick to shut it down. you both saw each other as siblings almost, so seeing rumors about the two of you dating kinda grossed both of you out

• probably end up hosting a show together

or a radio show. it was one of those 3 am ideas that the both of you took a lil too seriously.

• he brings you on set all the time

• but he won't let you do any of the stunts.

even when a stunt is in progress, he'd make sure that you were far away enough so you weren't in harms way. he says that "no one wants to watch a girl get hurt" because its "not funny".

• literal fights because of it

• having hotel room sleepovers

annoying the room service workers to death, prank calling people, leaving the room every other minute to go get ice (having an excuse to run down the halls), accidentally getting locked out, having to bother the room service workers even more.

• constantly calling each other names

like "bitch, whore, dumbass, idiot, stupid, moron" literally any insulting name you guys can think of, thats just the way you two talk to each other

• yelling at each other

yelling at each other so much that it sounds like an argument to everyone else around you, but to the both of you it sounds like you're having a regular every day conversation

• "talking shit" behind each other's backs (as jokes, you guys love each other to death)

like:

"Ugh, Knox is so fuckin' annoying, I wish he'd leave me alone"

"Then stop hanging out with him"

"No, he's my best friend, I'd never"

• taking his sunglasses

sometimes you take it without asking, sometimes he gives them to you because you complain about the sun being in your eyes, sometimes he gives them to you to hold while he does stunts. you two practically share sunglasses.

• late nights at corner stores

omg, going to get slushies, snacks, milkshakes. literally mini grocery shopping trips. once, you two got a little too carried away and ended up spending over 100 dollars on snacks. the workers hate you guys.

• him cutting your hair while you're sleeping

a bit thingy for jackass, instead of buzzing your hair, he took a pair of scissors and "gave you a trim". he left before you could wake up. so when you did wake up, you got out of bed to see a chunk of your hair and a pair of scissors on the nightstand.

• being menaces at hotels omg

running down the halls, ding dong ditch, prank calling other rooms, actually getting the police called once or twice, having races (one person takes the elevator and one person takes the steps to see who would get to the next floor first)

• if you guys sit next to each other, theres no way the two of you are gonna be quiet.

you guys are always joking about something, even if you aren't talking, you're doing something that makes the other person laugh, you guys got yelled at for doing it during an important meeting. now you're not allowed to sit next to each other during business meetings.

• secret handshakes

• like multiple

every other month, the two of you make up a new hand shake that'll only last about a week. you guys forget about them all the time 😭

• having a playlist of songs that the two of you constantly listen to

its always

"Hey, listen to this new song i like."

"HOLY FUCK, YOU LIKE THAT SONG TOO?"

and it becomes both of your favorite songs.

so you're practically sharing a music taste.

• ight thats all i got :)

#johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville imagines #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville imagine #jackass #jackass headcanons #slay

220 notes · View notes

ventisettestars · 5 months

Text

Happy New Year! This is a fic/art combo for @46-reasonable-hamsters in the 2023 Holiday Truce. The prompts were fun but I adored this one. The art is at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Danny needs adult supervision while his parents are out of town.

wc: 1.2k

Tags: Badger Cereal, Maddie the Cat, it's all fluff, no beta

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

"Daniel." Vlad looked down at Danny from the doorway of his Amity Park mansion, making note of the suitcase beside the boy.

"Hey. So my parents called you a bunch, and Dad said he left a message so that was as good as you agreeing to this." Danny pointed a thumb to indicate the GAV behind him, his father giving them both a thumbs up as Vlad made eye contact.

"Ah, yes, how could I, as his best friend, turn down a sudden request." Vlad's voice was dry. He'd listened to the messages, and hadn't responded back for a reason. They were going to a convention and didn't want to bring Danny along. Too dangerous or something?

"Yeah, you must have been just soooo busy you forgot to call him back."

"Your father is a fool." Vlad scoffed.

"Watch it. Anyway, if we just make it look like all is good, I can just fly back home once they are out of view and they won't know a thing."

"That isn't a bad plan." Vlad waved to Danny's parents, who then began to speed off. "Though seeing as it's the holiday week, you're welcome to stay and enjoy some real food. I'm having some things catered throughout the week as well."

Danny raised a brow. "This isn't some weird 'show me true holiday' scheme to make me want to be your son again?"

"No, if that is the outcome, I wouldn't dislike it. But it is not the plan. Simply, just a lousy time of year to spend alone. Shall we call it Truce early?"

Danny seemed to ponder a bit. "I guess as long as you don't try to force actual holiday cheer at me, warm meals would be a perk."

"Splendid." Vlad grabbed Danny's suitcase telekinetically and had it follow the both of them inside.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

The room Vlad led Danny to was weirdly plain. A normal guest room with a TV and balcony facing away from the city with a rather nice view of the sky.

"The room faces the sunrise, so I'd suggest closing the curtains if you don't want the sun in your eyes first thing in the morning." Vlad set down the suitcase near the wardrobe. "My room is directly below this one if you need anything."

"You didn't take the top floor with the best view?" Danny walked over to check out the view.

"It was originally, but I grew tired of having to go one more floor up each night."

Danny let out a little snort. "That's super lazy of you when we can both fly."

"I'll admit it's partially to do with the lady I employ growing older as well. I'll introduce you to her when she comes in the next few days."

"Huh, Okay." Danny didn't expect that from Vlad.

"I'll leave you to it. You know where the Kitchen is, so help yourself to anything."

Danny watched as Vlad left. It made him suspicious on how non-confrontational Vlad was being, but he settled into the room and started sending messages to his friends.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

A few nights into Danny's stay, things continued to go smoothly. Vlad left Danny to his own devices most the time, only interaction around meals or a few times when Danny was bored.

Most the time Danny spent playing with Maddie the Cat, or checking out Vlad's lab since quote 'I've nothing in the lab you haven't seen before while we fought'.

Danny wouldn't admit it was nice to be able to move around without having to keep an eye open for ghost traps at all hours of the day.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

"Aw, hey there Maddie, whatcha got there?"

The cat merped from where she rolled in her tangle of yarn. Danny took the thread of yarn from her by phasing her out of it, starting to ball it best he could. It was longer still and trailed up the staircase. He followed it to one of the many rooms that Vlad had on the second floor.

Looking into the room was a given. Danny looked in confusion as he was greeted by a wall of yarn. Shelves contained a well organized gradient of yarn. Vlad sat at a desk with his laptop in front of him, a pair of knitting needles with half a scarf floated next to him.

The two half ghosts stared at each other, the only sound in the room was the clicking of the needles followed by Maddie jumping onto Vlad's lap.

Danny's eyes drifted to the striped scarf, that matched the sweater that Danny had assumed Vlad bought, but no. It was the same colors, and not that Danny knew anything about producing sweaters, he's sat through enough of Sam's gripping about matching all the shades of black.

"Ah, Maddie had this." Danny held up the yarn he collected on his way to the room.

"I was wondering why it'd gotten so quiet."

"So, you knit?"

Vlad sighed and pointed to the other chair in the room. Danny took it and got comfy, yarn still in hand.

"I do. It started as a means to control something telepathically while distracted. The lady next to me in the hospital back when- Well she would be knitting while doing just about anything but eating to keep her hands from going stiff."

"So you do it with your mind? Doesn't seem the same."

"No, but at the time I needed something to help fine tune my control. It was only one of the things I did, mind you."

"But you kept at it cause you liked it?"

"Indeed." Vlad barely even glanced at his work as he switched colors.

"What other things did you do?"

"It was before I made my fortune, so small things. Cleaned, dishes, puzzles-those were the worst cause I needed to have a visual most times- sometimes folded clothes. Once I'd even tried to use telekinesis to pick up the floor rather than vacuum."

Danny laughed. "How'd that end up going?"

"Terribly. I just made the floor intangible so that the dirt would go into the apartment below me."

Danny laughed. "That's evil."

"Well, they vacuumed at 6 in the morning, so they deserved it." Vlad followed Danny's gaze to his knitting. "Would you like to try it?"

"Wha-"

"You can even use the yarn that Maddie summoned you here with."

"I guess it couldn't hurt to try."

5 minutes later Danny was about to stab someone with the needles. "How do you like this?"

Vlad tsked. "You've hardly even started. I never took you for a quitter."

"I'm not quitting." Danny bristled. "It's just so- It looks ugly."

"It's because you're just learning. You're good enough with your powers this should be cake walk."

"You say that, but I just throw things."

"Then this is good practice. Developing fine motor skills has no downsides."

"Fine. I'll finish this damn scarf. It's gunna be for your cat."

"Ah, nice and small then. She will love it."

Danny growled and put all his focus back into making the needles move.

End notes:

The prompt was: Someone stumbles across Vlad practicing his ‘hidden’ hobby—knitting.

And I just couldn't get the idea of that being the one thing Danny would end up letting Vlad mentor him in.

#danny phantom #dp #holiday truce 2023 #my fic #my art #draws #phandom truce 2023

23 notes · View notes

kikiiswashere · 1 year

Note

Thank you so much for commenting on my post, first and foremost! ❤️

One of the ideas I have, that I hope you're up for writing, is along these lines...

Reader w/ a temper, but it only shows when she's in a fight, or if someone insults anybody she's fond of. She has had horrid prior relationships and fears ever trying again, so she tends to just stick to being alone outside of working as an assistant for Silco.

While she's intoxicated, she overhears a patron (rather boldly) badmouthing Silco in his very establishment, and decides to get into a brawl with the patron. That's when she realizes that she's developed some strong feelings for her boss, and ultimately, she ends up having to explain herself directly to Silco, including why the fight started in the first place.

If possible, a resolution/response with Silco after her drunk admission to feelings would be so awesome. ;-; I'm always down for angst, too.

I'd love to see it written, but again, only if you're up for it! Thanks again! ❤️

Thank you for your patience with this, Love! Thank you for letting me breath a little life into your OC/Reader-insert.

I hope you like it <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Recover

Summary: See Ask

Warnings: None/SFW, canon typical violence, drunken confessions, a lil' bit of vomit

WC: 5.6K

Notes: Silco x Reader . . . ? Maybe??

Free drinks were one of the perks of your job.

It made the sting of working as Silco’s assistant mellow just a tad.

You knew most would assume that the sting came from the kingpin’s turbulent temper, his meticulous micro-managing, or his insatiable appetite for power. And while each of those attributes could be challenging at times, none of them actually got under your skin. On the contrary, they were traits you admired: his passion, his vision, his drive.

Admired . . . yes, that was the word. You would entertain nothing else.

There was no point to anything else.

A sardonic huff burst through your lips, sending the bourbon beneath them rippling in the glass. Knocking back the last of your drink, you set the tumbler on the bar top with a hefty, slightly careless thunk. Thieram looked up from the glass he was drying, brow furrowing.

“Another, please, Thieram.” You tapped the bar for good measure.

Thieram gave the glass in his hand a couple more squeaky wipes before setting it down and turning to the wall of liquor behind him. As he fetched the expensive bottle from the top shelf (if all your drinks were free, why not lean in?) your eyes slid around The Last Drop. While it was late, it wasn’t quite late enough for the bar to be in its infamous, full, raucous swing. Older, tired Trenchers (people left over from Vander’s days) sat heavily at the bar around you; small huddles of weary faces sat shoulder-to-shoulder at tables; a small group played a relatively quiet game of billiards over at the large, felted table.

As Thieram returned and poured another two fingers-worth into your glass, your eyes spied Sevika at the far end of the room. A murky plume of smoke rising above her and the two men she was currently swindling in cards. Her full lips hooked in an insufferable grin around her cigarillo as her playthings upped their antes. The next thing your eyes meandered to were the stairs that led to The Drop’s upper levels. To the club’s balcony. And then the private quarters. To Silco’s office. Where you had left him after he thanked and dismissed you for the day.

A perfunctory thanks mumbled from your mouth as you lifted your freshened drink to your lips. The liquor burned delicious and warm down your gullet, grateful for the way it soothed your tired body, relaxed your tangled mind, and numbed your aching heart.

Placing the drink down, your hand swiveled the bottom of the glass against the lacquered bar top, watching as the liquor within spin in a small whirlpool. You didn’t want them to, but your eyes lifted to the neon clock above Thieram’s head. In about an hour’s time, you knew, the club would fill with younger, louder Zaunites and the more rambunctious of Silco’s goons. The lights would pulse. The music would rattle the bar’s foundation. Cheap liquor would flow. Shimmer would be smoked. Gambling. Soliciting. Probably at least one fight.

And he would be there.

You hated that you knew that. Hated that you still knew your ex’s schedule. Hated that he didn’t have the decency to frequent a different club, knowing that this was the one you worked in. He had been the one to break up with you, so his insistence on showing his stupid face was aggravating and spiteful.

You’d be loathe to admit it, but it hurt you.

And it hurt that he knew that, but he still came to The Last Drop like clockwork. Like the time you spent together was some sort of meaningless joke.

Asshole.

At least he hadn’t been as bad as . . .

You stopped that thought in its tracks and knocked the rest of your drink back. A mistake, you quickly realized, as your esophagus rebelled against the onslaught of liquid fire trying to surge its way to your stomach. Catching the cough behind your teeth, some of the beverage rose back up into your mouth where it found refuge in the rounded bubbles of your cheeks.

Luckily, no one but Thieram seemed to notice.

“Smooth.”

Wrestling down the wayward booze, you sneered at him. “Swallowed wrong.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted. “That stuff isn’t meant to be shot. Didn’t the boss explain that when he first let you taste it?”

Another unwelcome, unfounded zing scratched across your heart.

You bit the inside of your cheek and glared at the bartender. After a beat, you pushed the empty tumbler across the bar toward him and firmly tapped the space next to it. Thieram’s deep set eyes fell to the glass, unimpressed.

“Don’t waste it this time,” he warned, snatching the heavy ornate glass bottle back off the shelf. He poured a finger’s worth and turned to put the bottle back.

“Hey!” you cried. Thieram stopped and looked back at the incredulous expression on your face. Gesturing to the too-empty glass, you said, “What gives?”

His fingers tightened almost protectively around the neck of the bottle.

“I don’t want you wasting it,” he answered. “I don’t need Silco asking me why the books aren’t adding up at the end of the month.”

Your eyes rolled so far back that you thought you might’ve glimpsed your brain.

“Free drinks are part of my compensation, Chuck.” A thrilling, warm tingle shivered under your skin as you watched him flinch at the nickname. “Silco allows me that bourbon. Pour me that bourbon.”

Thieram hesitated a moment more before he stepped back up to the bar and tipped an additional splash into your tumbler. Holding his gaze, you brought the glass to your lips – pinky up! – and took an exaggeratedly small sip. He pursed his lips and rehomed the bottle on the top shelf, surreptitiously nudging it a little farther back than its neighbors, before tending to other patrons at the bar.

With the barman’s attention gone, your hackles drooped and a heavy, lonely feeling pressed under your skin. You took another sip of your drink, relishing the warmth wrapping you up from the inside out. As you continued to nurse and appreciate the fine liquor, the unwelcome sense of being watched interrupted your balmy journey into inebriation.

You may ‘only’ be Silco’s assistant, working relatively safely within the confines of his office . . . and at his side –

That weird little zing ricocheted behind your ribs again, like a little bird beating its wings against its cage, trying furiously to free itself. You cleared your throat and your mind of the previous thought.

You may ‘only’ be Silco’s assistant, doing paperwork and pushing pencils, but you had worked for him long enough, lived in Zaun long enough to know when you were being eyeballed.

The rim of the tumbler rested on your lower lip again, and while you took another smooth sip your hooded eyes nonchalantly skirted the bar. No one seemed to be paying you any mind, instead favoring shoulder-cramping hunches that kept their eyes in their drinks. Setting your glass down, you swallowed and casually turned right and left on your stool, miming a search for your bag. As you did so, your eyes briefly lifted to the patrons who were closest to your sides.

Bingo.

A stool down from you to your right, some old codger kept sneering at you and then muttering into his beverage. Continuing your charade, you turned your attention back to your drink. Your elbows rested steadily on the bar top and your hands gently cupped your glass. The amber liquor within wavered a bit, the surface catching and flashing the bar lights prettily. A too-steady calm grounded your bones. You waited and listened.

“What was that?” you asked suddenly and sharply, snapping your head in the man’s direction.

The man jerked in his seat, his drink sloshing a bit over the rim of his tankard. Grumbling, he snatched up a bar napkin and wiped away the small spill. He looked over at you.

“What?”

“That’s what I asked you,” you said, voice steady and cold. “Did you say something to me?”

“For Janna’s sake,” he muttered dabbing the napkin against his scraggly mustache and beard. “I didn’ say nuffin’ to you.”

“Oh? You keep staring at me and then mumbling into your ale. You sure you don’t have anything to say to me?”

The liquor in your veins began to bubble with stupid courage. Normally, you would ignore such a person. Tonight, however, the combination of booze, an aching heart, and a weary mind was sending a confrontational itch under your skin. You spun your body on your stool to face the man and sneered at him. Booze streaming hot reactivity through your body swiftly washed away the thought that this might not be a wise idea.

The man glowered back at you, his teeth grinding together. You prayed he took the bait.

After a moment, he clucked his tongue against the back of his teeth and answered your prayer.

“I ‘s just musin’,” he began, bleary eyes falling back to his mug, “how it is tha’ Silco,” he said the name as if it were a rotten, dirty thing to be spat into the dirt, and it made your temper flare, “can afford t’ stock the bar wif that fancy dreck – which I ain’ never seen an’one but you drink, by the way – but apparently don’ave the coin to fix th’mess he’s made.”

Your fingers tightened around your glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The man scoffed and took another sloppy swig of his beer.

“The Drop ain’ what’t used t’be,” he slurred, almost nostalgically. “Vander’d blow ‘is lid if he could see the place now.”

“Vander betrayed us,” you spat, putting the same emphasis around The Hound’s name as the man had around Silco’s. “He made deals with Topside that kept Zaun from progressing.” You licked your lips, deciding whether or not to delve this argument further into the murk with another controversial topic. Taking the plunge, you added, “And then he abandoned the Lanes with his kids when they screwed up. Silco came in and cleaned his mess up.”

The man’s eyes lit up with a fire that almost took you aback. “Abandoned us, did’e? Naw, girl. I’m no fool. Vander was’n trouble, but he’d never skulk off wiff his tail ‘tween his legs. Not The Hound. I know tha’s the lie you n’ the rest o’ his lot try’n tell us, but I’ll lick Heimerdinger’s boot a’fore’ll believe he left wiff’is kids to leave the Lanes in the slimy hands o’ that rat-faced bastard.”

He took another swig of his ale, half of which dribbled down his chin.

“’Sides,” he continued, “Vander didn’ take all them chitlers wiff ‘im, did’e?” His eyes slid upward to the balcony above you.

Against your better judgement, your head turned and tilted up. A scrawny leg with a too-big shoe dangled from the edge of the upper-level, gently swaying off-beat to the jangly music that filled The Drop. Jinx didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything but the small handful of metal scraps between her fingers. A screwdriver was tucked between her lips and her brow was crunched in concentration as she fiddled with her contraption. She was allowed to meander around The Drop until night fully fell and the club became rowdy with debauchery. At that point she was sequestered back in her and Silco’s living quarters an additional floor up.

“Even though that one’s always been a��bit of’n . . . odd duck,” he continued, “Vander wouldn’t’ve left her.”

“Leave her out of this,” you warned through grit teeth. You’d taken a shine to the young girl Silco brought back from the cannery and your protectiveness of her was only rivaled by that of Silco’s.

The drunk huffed a wheezy laugh. “Oh yeah, wouldn’ wanna bad talk the great Eye of Zaun’s crazy new toy.”

Your fingers squeezed so tightly around your glass that you were surprised it hadn’t shattered.

“I worked wiff’im, Lass,” he slurred, leaning in with a condescending sneer etching his face in deep, craggy channels, “in the mines. Him n’ Vander. Was always a selfish, meddlin’, no-good pipsqueak. Always tailin’ after Vander, ridin’ his coattails. Even now, tha’s what he’s doin’. Vander did all the hard work t’get The Lanes steady n’ then that opportunistic rat scurried in with his mindless, spineless goons n’ did ‘im in. Silco don’ care a lick for t’Undercity. He’s an ugly, schemin’, chinless, buck-toothed – “

You were not in control of what happened next. Even though you were the one who reacted. In a flash, your drink – your expensive drink – was thrown into the man’s face. He cried out and squeezed his eyes tightly as the alcohol burned them. Next, you smashed your tumbler over his skull. The glass shattered and he wailed, toppling off his barstool.

Blood pounded in your ears. Your vision tunneled in on the man scrambling off of the floor. Your arms and legs tingled with adrenaline and fire, rage curdling your blood, as you launched to your feet. Swiping the man’s tankard from the bar and hurling it in his direction. So blinded by your fury, so intent on beating the bastard to a pulp, you didn’t hear or see the bar’s reaction to the sudden fight.

Thieram had yelped and dropped the bottle he was pouring from. The other patrons at the bar jerked their attention away from nursing their drinks; some even backed up and away from your fray. One of the people at the billiards table jumped and scratched a jagged hole in the table’s felt top. The two men playing cards with Sevika spun in their seats, and the Lieutenant herself dropped the cards she was shuffling. Jinx’s body jolted and she tucked her legs up into her chest, big, dewy eyes wide with fear as she watched you attack the man. After a moment, she leapt to her feet and ran upstairs.

The man managed to throw an arm up that prevented the mug of ale from clocking him in the temple. The beer spilled across the floor and the stein bounced and rolled away under a table. Grabbing the man by the collar, you hauled him to his feet, intent on smashing his stupid face into the bar railing. However, as you lifted him (with strength you didn’t know you had) his hand swept across the bar, grabbed a dirty glass and cracked it across your face.

Yelling, you stumbled back, bumping into your stool. One of your hands cupped your numb cheek and felt wetness beneath your palm. He lunged at you, crashing his head into your ribs and wrapping his arms around your middle, causing you both to tumble back.

You hit the floor. Hard. Your spine spasmed and what air was left in your lungs was forcefully pushed out in a stinging wheeze. Your hand wrapped around the leg of a barstool and pulled, crashing it onto your assailant’s back. Something cracked. He roared. Hooking your legs around his waist, you squeezed and rolled the two of you over. Now on top, you bared your teeth and pummeled his face with alternating punches.

Too soon for your liking, a large metal hand grasped the back of your neck and lifted you off the man’s chest. Hissing and kicking, you did your damnedest to try and break free from Sevika’s grip. She was saying something to you – dressing you down – but you couldn’t hear it through the mighty pumping of your vengeful heart. To your abject horror and disgust the man clambered to his feet and spat some teeth onto the floor. He fixed his eyes on you, hot and furious, and took a step towards you and your keeper.

“Back off, buddy. It’s over,” you managed to hear Sevika say.

Over? Over? Like hell it was over! The idea of letting this ass-hat walk out of here after bad-mouthing Silco and Jinx renewed your need to fight. The idea of having to return to your melancholy mind sent destructive fear through your veins. Wriggling under Sevika’s iron grasp, you managed a lucky kick to her groin. She gasped and buckled forward, dropping you.

Freedom sent adrenaline surging through your veins and you launched yourself back at the drunk, fists thumping against his ribs. He coughed and sputtered, staggering back. Clawing at your shirt, he immobilized you enough to jut his knee up into your stomach. A choked cry tore from your bloody mouth and you fell. Before his boot found your hand or head, you scurried back, grabbing a pool cue someone had dropped. The cue extended your arm enough that is it swept through the air it caught your adversary behind the knees. He buckled and crashed to the ground with an outraged wail. As you rose to your feet, you thrust the cue in Sevika’s direction as she made another grab at your shirt. The larger woman snarled, but you didn’t care.

The cue smacked and cracked against the floor as you tried to deliver a blow to the fallen man, but he rolled out of the way and used a grip of the bar railing to clamber to his feet. Abandoning your broken weapon, your hand found a tight grip in the man’s dirty hair and you bashed his face against the bar top. Once again, you failed to notice his wandering hand and he spun back, clocking you across the face with a liquor bottle.

You screamed and reeled back into Sevika’s arms. Before your attacker could hurl himself back at you, bottle in hand, his eyes suddenly went wide and he screamed in agony. You were confused until you saw a familiar, lanky, red, coal, and gold figure in your wavering periphery.

The man was stopped in his tracks by the knife Silco had speared through his free hand, pinning him to the bar. The Eye of Zaun’s lips curled in a bone chilling sneer and he yanked the bottle from the drunk’s hand. To his credit the bloodied and beaten man did not cower in Silco’s presence, despite the Eye’s imposing figure and the blade skewering his hand. The two men stared at each other; Silco’s chin held high, glaring down his nose at the drunk. The drunk huffed breaths through swollen and bloody lips, his eyes bulging with hate as he looked up into Silco’s face before spitting into it.

Without missing a beat, the kingpin cracked the bottle across the drunk’s temple. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed, slumping against the bar, the knife tearing into his hand as the weight of his body heaved to the floor.

“Back upstairs, Jinx,” Silco barked as he took a pocket square from his waistcoat and wiped the saliva from his scarred cheek.

Your eyes jumped over to the stairs and you saw the young girl watching all of you with wide, scared, but interested eyes. Her hands fidgeted and tugged at her shirt’s hem and her bottom lip was tucked safely behind her top teeth. She looked to Silco and then to you, her eyebrows ticking up behind her jagged bangs.

“Jinx,” Silco insisted, firmly yet kindly.

Her eyes went back to him before turning heel and pattering back upstairs.

The Eye of Zaun turned back to the bar, his eyes landing on you, still slumped in Sevika’s arms. Since his appearance, your wrath had ebbed, replaced by a sense of embarrassment and . . . something else. He looked down at you, taking in your injuries with practiced neutrality. Perhaps you wished it, but you thought something flickered behind his eyes.

It couldn’t be worry, could it?

Before you could search for the look again, he turned his attention to the unconscious man at his feet. His lips curled.

“Get him out of here,” he ordered Thieram. “Tell Lock and Jasper he is not allowed back on the premises. Sevika, take her up to my office.”

An annoyed groan rumbled through the Lieutenant’s arms as she hauled the both of you to your feet. Now that your adrenaline had time to wear off, physical pain was beginning to creep its way into your consciousness. A weak, protesting garble slurred past your swollen lips as Sevika lifted you into her arms. She ignored it, as well as the weak wiggle you gave, and followed Silco back upstairs.

Once in his office, Silco strode to his grand desk.

“Put her on the couch,” he said as he began sifting through the desk’s drawers.

Sevika did so, probably with more care than she wanted to do. Your bottom melted into the couch’s cushions and your spine heaved against the tufted back. Now that your head was back over your shoulders, your vision swam and your brain throbbed.

“You’re dismissed,” came Silco’s voice.

Sevika’s fuzzy form hesitated only for a moment before stalking out of the office, slamming the door behind her. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head to look at Silco. Partly out of self-consciousness, partly because your stomach was beginning to curdle and squeeze and you feared you may vomit all over your employer’s furnishings.

As if sensing your thoughts, Silco appeared in front of you, a garbage pail in one hand, a cloth and bottle in the other. He set the trash can next to your knee and sat himself down on the coffee table across from the couch. You made a point to stare at the spot above his head.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

You scoffed, protecting your ego from the ridiculous question. Even though it did take you a beat to remember it. You heard yourself finally answer. Silco nodded as he uncorked the bottle.

“Do you know my name?”

“Silco.” That one was easier.

“Do you know where you are?”

“In your office . . . in The Last Drop.”

“What nation do you live in?”

“Zaun.”

A more satisfied nod bobbled Silco’s head as he dampened the cloth with liquid from the bottle. It smelled strongly of astringent. Too strong. Your stomach roiled, sending you pitching over your lap and vomiting into the wastebin. Silco set the antiseptic and cloth down and reached forward to pull your hair away from your face.

Once your throat was raw and your cheeks streaked with tears, you carefully sat back up, Silco’s hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you back. Once you were propped up, he returned to dosing the cloth.

“What happened?” he asked, leaning forward and pressing the saturated cloth to your cheek.

You hissed at the sting and squeezed your eyes shut. An action that sent another almighty throb through your skull.

“I fought a guy.”

“Yes, that’s what Jinx told me,” he said patiently, dabbing blood off your cheek. “What led you to assault a customer?”

Your now empty stomach dipped. Was he angry? Disappointed? Were you about to be fired? Your jaw moved side to side and you chewed on your tongue, not realizing you didn’t answer his question.

Silco’s dual-colored eyes searched your distant face as he continued to wipe it clean.

“I’m wondering if I hired you for the wrong position,” he quipped. Your breathing stilled as you looked at him. Silco didn’t smile, so you assumed your rattled brain was imagining the small tilt of his lips. “I didn’t know you were so quick on your feet or ferocious in a fight. Perhaps your skills are wasted being my assistant – “

“I like being your assistant.”

The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, much less think about them. Silco stilled in his attentions and your face flushed horribly. Embarrassment bolstered by liquor coursing just under your skin in cherry red splotches.

Silco’s face softened, as did his voice. “I like you as my assistant, as well.”

Your heart fluttered something horribly wonderful behind your ribs. The flush of your cheeks deepened.

“That doesn’t answer my question, though,” Silco said, tone back to something commanding. “What cause did you have to fight that man?”

Once again, you averted your gaze, dropping your eyes down to your cracked, bruised, and bloodied knuckles.

“He . . . he,” you stammered, unwilling to admit what had sent you into such a blind rage.

The sound of Silco saying your name pulled you from your whirling mind. You bashfully looked to him, seeing his aqua and red eye fixed on you.

He really does have lovely eyes, the liquor in your blood whispered.

Silco spoke before any other intrusive thoughts could sing under your skin.

“You know I value loyalty above all else,” he said. “Honesty is a tenant of loyalty. Now tell me, why were you fighting that man?”

“Because he was speaking poorly of you,” you admitted, your eyes darting away from his.

Silco’s hand paused in its cleaning of your face. You felt his eyes on you in a meaningful way. He let out a small sigh before taking up one of your hands and began to tend to your knuckles.

“There are plenty of Zaunites who do not agree with my leadership,” he mused and you watched his fingers tend to your own.

He held your hand so, so softly. Not as if he were fearful of hurting you, nor as if he didn’t want to touch you. He held it reverently. You couldn’t remember anyone ever touching you in such a way.

“Even the Chem-Barons have their qualms about me,” Silco continued. “For the most part it is petty jealousy parading as gossip. Childish, but benign and meaningless. I will not spare my thoughts or energy on those who do not like me. I am only interested in freeing Zaun.”

Well, I’m interested in you, the booze swimming in your head countered. You hiccupped as a means to stop that thought from coming out of your mouth.

“Why do you give your attention to such people?” he asked, switching the hand he was working on.

“Because everyone should understand and respect how hard you’re working,” you mumbled through swollen lips. “They should be grateful for your passion.”

His thumb swept affectionately over the top of your hand as he cleaned your knuckles. It was the action that proved to be your undoing. Sighing, you allowed your careful mind to rest and let the looseness of liquor coat your insides. Your fingers curled gently, awkwardly around Silco’s hand. It was very warm. Soft in some places, but firm in others where chronic calluses used to blossom and build. His hand stilled in your own, but he made no attempt to pull away. You weren’t certain, but he may have even firmed up his own grip.

“I am grateful for your passion, Silco,” you murmured. Finally, you lifted your gaze to his. “I like being your assistant because I get to see you up close. Your passion, your vision, your drive. It inspires me. I’ve never seen anything like it. I wouldn’t want to work the streets because I wouldn’t get to be with you.”

Silco’s lips parted infinitesimally, and his blue eye widened a touch. He reached his free hand up and gently touched your sore and swollen cheek. An unbidden hiss swept through your teeth and the swell of your cheek rose up in a wince. The little wonder left Silco’s face, his brow furrowed and hand dropped away.

“No!” you cried, vocal cords cracking under the sudden explosion of sound.

Your body leaned forward to chase his hand, but the bourbon and fight made you body sloppy and heavy. The lean veered over to the right, and you would’ve toppled ass-over-tea-kettle if Silco hadn’t caught you, his large hands cupping each shoulder blade. The plump cushion of your cheek smashed against his chest and your leadened arms looped around his thin waist.

“You smell good,” came the drunken mumble from your lips, voice muffled by the silken fabric of his waistcoat.

Silco’s ribcage spasmed in a huff. You weren’t sure if it was amusement or disgust. However, as his hands pressed into your back and held you closer, your foolish heart leapt, fueled by disbelief and hope. The warmth brushed against the scarred wounds etched in the organ, and your logical brain surged back on line. But before you pressed yourself away from his chest, Silco rested his cheek against your hair.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for your fierce and unwavering loyalty. For me and Jinx. For Zaun.”

Like a switch, your brain flipped back off and your drunk heart melted further against his. After some time, Silco carefully lifted you up, his hands shifting to hold the fronts of your shoulders. Your watery gaze slid up to his. Once again, he went to brush his thumb against your bruised cheek.

“This cut is very deep. I’m wondering if – “

Silco’s wonder was cut off by the press of your mouth on his. A most un-kingpinly squeak peeped out from him, but he didn’t pull away. He tasted like cigars, Shimmer, and warmth. And home.

With a loud smack! you broke away from him and flopped onto the couch.

“I like you, Silco,” you slurred, eyelids and head growing heavy.

Your feet shifted against the rug, knees knocking in together as you considered standing.

“I should go,” you yawned. Your legs didn’t move. “Am I walking to the door yet?”

“No,” came Silco’s voice. A combination of something amused and baffled. “You’re not leaving, anyhow.”

“No, no. I can’t stay. You’ve already done enough – “

“Nonsense. You’re concussed. And drunk. You’re staying.”

Silco rose to his feet, cupping the back of your legs, gently spinning you on your seat until you were horizontal on the couch. He propped your head and back up with several cushions and retrieved a blanket from the steam trunk behind the couch, covering your body.

“Silco, you don’t have to do this,” you grumbled, although you did nothing to stop him.

“Shush. The Brothers and Sisters of Zaun are loyal to each other. I will work and keep an eye on you,” he murmured, brushing the hair out of your face.

“Are you doing this just because I said I liked you?” The question mumbled through your lips, as you rubbed your face snuggly into the back of the couch.

“No,” he answered. You were on the fringes of a drunk sleep, so you weren’t sure if you imagined him saying, “I’m doing this because I like you, too.”

It felt like you slept a thousand years. At least, you felt like you were a thousand years old as you awoke the following morning. Your body ached, but it was nothing to how your head throbbed and pounded. The bed beneath you felt strange and stiff. Perhaps because it wasn’t a bed at all, you realized, but a couch. You dared to crack your eyes open and you saw red upholstery. Then you smelled . . . cigars.

Your body jerked and jolted up. An action you quickly regretted as the column of your spine spasmed and skull exploded. Groaning, your arms gathered around your knees and dropped your forehead to them. As quickly as your addled brain could piece thoughts together, the previous night swam up in wavering ripples and puddles.

You nursing a chronically aching heart with the expensive bourbon Silco allowed you.

Listening to some twat talk out his ass.

Knocking said twat on his ass.

But he got a few hits in, too, remembering a glass and bottle to your dome.

Silco stopped him before he could rattle you any further.

Silco tended to your wounds. He pulled the hair from your face when you threw up.

Cautiously glancing down at the floor, you spied a clean waste basket. On the coffee table there was a tray that held a silver pitcher and a waiting glass. And a bottle of painkillers.

Your stomach reeled, but not from your aching head. How you had behaved, what you had said, what you did flooded your mind. The blood and warmth drained from your hungover face. Nervously, your eyes peered over your shoulder.

Thank Janna.

He was not at his desk. You might still be able to get out of here with what was left of your dignity. Gingerly, your feet found the floor and your toes flexed inside your boots. Gripping the seat cushion, you prepared to haul yourself onto your woozy legs, but your eyes got stuck on the tray of water and medicine in front of you. Where he had sat.

Silco tended to your wounds. Held your hair from your face. Held you to him when you tumbled forward. He didn’t pull away when you kissed him – GODS! You couldn’t believe you did that! You knew better! Professionally and personally. He didn’t rebuke your drunken . . . confession . . .

The ground felt like it crumbled beneath your feet. Your insides went cold.

You liked him. Not just admired. Liked. Crushed. Infatuated.

Despite the fact that prior relationships had taught you better, you fell again. For your boss.

For the Eye of Zaun.

You were screwed. You’d never recover from this.

The office door opened and you jumped.

“You’re awake,” Silco noted, closing the door behind him.

He was dressed just in his trousers and button-up shirt. His hair wasn’t quite coifed yet and his scar laid bare. The green light streaming in from the window beyond his desk bathed him in an eerily beautiful light. The picture of Zaun itself.

His face was soft in the morning and its light. He smiled.

“May we talk?”

Maybe you wouldn’t want to recover from this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes: Thank you for reading this too long one-shot! If you liked it, please comment/reblog :)

#silco #silco fanfic #silco x reader #ask kiki #soft silco #drunk reader

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allmoshnobrain · 1 year

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 05 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2296 | ao3 link

He planted a soft kiss on the palm of my hand, holding it gently but firmly. I couldn't help but notice that he always treated me that way— as if I could shatter at the slightest touch. Maybe that's why I felt safer with him every day. He understood me, no judgment. I saw a side of him that others seemed not to notice. It felt like a fair trade to me.

✦ on this chapter: oc is cliff's cousin, +18, slice of life, romance, fluff, drinking, sexually inexperienced oc, dave mustaine x female!oc, kissing (a lot), found family vibes

✧ fade into you, strange you never knew ✧

I took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of freshly made popcorn that filled the kitchen, a mix of satisfaction and mild boredom washing over me. It was one of those rainy Sunday nights and for the first time ever since I moved I found myself home alone. Cliff and the guys had headed out to another show, and I knew they'd end up hitting a bar afterwards. But since I had a job starting the next day, I decided to play it responsible for once. So, here I was, winding down the weekend with a bowl of popcorn and a stack of movie tapes that Cliff had lent me. I tried my best to ignore the nagging feeling that I'd much rather be out there having fun with Cliff, Lars, James, and Dave.

With the popcorn bucket in hand, I plopped onto the couch in the living room. I glanced at the small pile of movies, contemplating which one to indulge in for the night. A frown crept onto my face as I noticed that most of them fell into the horror genre: The Shining, Night of the Living Dead, Black Cat. It seemed Cliff's taste in movies still leaned towards spooky. I couldn't help but wonder if it was a wise choice to dive into those on a quiet Sunday night, all by myself at home.

I pondered over whether I should opt for the less scary looking cover or just give up altogether and tune into a mindless game show when I heard a knock at the door. A tiny yelp escaped my lips, followed by an immediate blush. Seriously, getting scared while watching horror movies is one thing, but getting spooked before even choosing one? What a dummy.

I got up and made my way to the door, opening it to show Dave standing there, drenched from the rain and looking slightly drunk. I let out a small exclamation of surprise as he strode into the room with big steps, cupping my face in his hands and planting a passionate kiss on my lips. Well, talk about unexpected. The taste of beer lingered as he pulled me closer, his arms holding me firmly.

"Dave," I chuckled, a bit taken aback, against his lips, "what are you doing here? I thought you were heading to the bar with everyone after the concert."

"Nah, it was too boring there without you," he grumbled, easing back a bit and flashing a smile as his thumb traced along my lower lip. I blushed, my heart fluttering like crazy, just like it always did when he got this close. "We've been kinda distant lately, haven't we? You avoiding me or something?"

"No way," I replied, hesitating for a moment before adding, "I'd never avoid you."

But truth be told, he had a point. Over the past few days, our paths hadn't crossed as frequently as before. Part of it was because he took up a side gig at a local mechanic shop to help with the bills. Between band rehearsals, gigs, and the hustle of daily life, there was barely any time left for us to be together.

I realized I had missed that, though — just chilling with him, sharing a beer and a smoke in conversations that inevitably ended in kisses. Ever since he had first kissed me, it had been near impossible to not find myself wrapped up in his embrace whenever we were together.

"Well," he said, breaking the kiss for just a moment before kissing me again. I let out a contented sigh as he pulled me closer, his lips leisurely exploring mine. "I wanted some alone time with you, but the others were always lingering around. So this time, I left them there and came to see you. But if you want me to go..."

I couldn't ignore the happiness bubbling up inside me. I was starting to feel like I could resist him less and less each time we were together. Not that I was trying, anyway.

"No, stay," I whispered, locking eyes with his warm brown gaze. He smiled softly and placed his hand on my cheek, planting gentle kisses on my lips, then my cheek, then my neck.

"Wanna go to my room?" he whispered, his lips grazing my skin. I nodded, and he smiled as he took my hand, leading me upstairs.

He didn't even bother flicking on the lights as he closed the door, pulling me closer to his body. He kissed me again, fiercely, passionately, his lips meeting mine with a raw hunger that caught me off guard. A soft moan escaped my lips as his hand firmly gripped my butt, his teeth leaving marks on the skin of my neck. My heart raced, taken aback by his newfound intensity; he had never touched me like this before. It was as if he was desperate to have me in his arms, as if all the kisses we had exchanged so far were nowhere near enough.

He took off his shirt, and I shivered as he laid me down on the bed, the weight of his body on top of mine. His right hand reached for my waist, gripping it tightly as he kissed me. I felt my body heat up more and more. All I wanted was to let him explore my entire body with his eyes, with his hands, with his tongue — but I couldn't do that knowing I was sober and he was drunk, even if just lightly. This isn't right, I thought.

"Dave, you're drunk," I whispered, my hand resting on his chest as I gently nudged him away. He grunted.

"So what?"

"I... I don't know if I'm up for it with you like this," I blushed. "Will you even remember any of this tomorrow?"

He sighed but smiled at me as he lay beside me and pulled me close, his arm draped around my waist.

"And you think I'd forget?" He planted kisses on my shoulder and then my neck. I shivered, using all my strength not to pull him back on top of me right there. "You want it too, don't you?" His grip on my thigh tightened, and he kissed me on the lips once more. "I would never do anything you don’t want to, Nore, but damn... You're gonna drive me crazy like this."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not really knowing what to say. He was right; I wanted it so bad, more than I was ready to admit. It was tough to resist my desires in that moment; if he pushed just a little harder, I wouldn't be able to deny him anything he wanted from me.

But he didn't push; I let out a sigh as he ran his fingers through my hair, planting gentle, tender kisses on my lips.

"Sometimes I forget you've never done shit like this before," he confessed, then kissed my cheek. "I've never felt like this, Nore. And I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to be a jerk. I want to do things the right way."

I softly caressed his face, allowing my fingertips to trace his lips. I was slowly beginning to realize that alcohol, before making him aggressive, made him brutally honest. But that wasn't so bad; I liked this side of him.

He planted a soft kiss on the palm of my hand, holding it gently but firmly. I couldn't help but notice that he always treated me that way—as if I could shatter at the slightest touch. Maybe that's why I felt safer with him every day. He understood me, no judgment. I saw a side of him that others seemed not to notice. It felt like a fair trade to me.

He pulled me closer again, his lips finding their way to my neck.

"I just really wanted to keep kissing you," he whispered, his breath tickling my skin. "Can I?"

Instead of answering, I simply kissed him, my arms wrapping around his neck as he settled on top of me once again. He let out a contented sigh, his tongue gently exploring my mouth, and I melted under his touch. He was everywhere: his body, his hands, his hair, his scent enveloping me completely. In that moment, I wanted him so much that I could barely breathe — I only wished he felt the same.

I’m not sure I could bear it if he didn’t.

I allowed myself to stay there, in his arms, as he kissed me all over — my lips, my cheeks, my neck, my shoulders, my collarbone. I felt like I could stay there forever, completely surrendered to him. Eventually, we settled down and he pulled me close, allowing me to rest my head on his chest as he gently stroked my hair and my face.

"How was your day?" I finally broke the silence. He chuckled softly.

"Pretty dull, to be honest. But hey, at least I made some cash. And drank beer. Oh, and," I could hear the smile in his voice as he talked, " I hung out with this amazing girl who happens to be a friend's cousin, " I couldn’t help but giggle softly upon hearing that, lifting my head to meet his gaze. He smiled at me.

"And what about yours?"

"It was good. Didn't really do much , but James tried to teach me how to play the guitar."

He furrowed his brow slightly at my words.

"Don't you think you've been spending too much time with James?" he asked, his voice tinged with a touch of jealousy. I blinked in surprise. "I can teach you, you know. I'm a better player than him anyway," he added, sounding a bit cocky. I burst into laughter.

"Dave, you were busy. I didn't want to bother," I replied. He huffed.

"You're never a bother. Besides, I enjoy hanging out with you," he kissed my forehead. "We've got rehearsal tomorrow, but if you want, I can teach you some songs afterward."

"Sounds good," I smiled. The idea of spending even a little time with him excited me.

I stayed there, lying in his embrace, as we continued talking in hushed voices. At some point, the rain grew stronger. I knew it was a bit chilly, but having Dave's body against mine provided enough warmth. It was so cozy and comfortable that I thought I could stay there forever. I yawned, feeling sleep starting to take over, but I didn't have the strength or desire to get up and go to my own room. Instead, I simply closed my eyes and drifted off, feeling safe in his arms for the first time.

The next day, I woke up in Cliff's bed. I looked around, a bit confused. I was all by myself in the room, and I couldn't remember how I ended up there. I wondered if Dave had carried me there after I fell asleep, and my cheeks turned slightly red. I got up and closed the bedroom door to change before heading out to the living room, where Lars and Cliff were chilling on the couch, talking to each other.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," Cliff greeted sarcastically, extending his arm toward me. I took his hand, and he planted a kiss on it, grinning at me. "You sure know how to get your beauty rest for someone who decided to lay low on a Sunday night, don't you think?"

"Good morning to you too, Cliff," I replied with a smile. Well, at least he seemed oblivious to the fact that I had crashed in Dave's arms last night. I could only imagine the teasing I'd get if he found out; I guess I owed Dave one in the end.

"Cliff whipped up some eggs and bacon. They're in the kitchen if you're up for it," Lars chimed in.

"Sweet! Thanks," I replied, making my way to the kitchen.

I was helping myself to breakfast when I heard the front door swing open. I looked up and spotted James and Dave strolling in, each carrying bags of beers and a bottle of vodka.

"Good morning," Dave greeted, sidling up to the kitchen counter, wrapping his arm around my waist, and planting a sweet kiss on my forehead. I couldn't help but smile.

James put the beer bags onto the counter and grabbed a couple bottles. He handed one over to me with a grin.

"Breakfast is served," he said ceremoniously, and I let out a soft chuckle. Beer for breakfast had become a running joke among the three of us after I noticed how they always had one after waking up. He passed another beer to Dave, taking a few more for himself, Cliff, and Lars. Dave cracked open his beer, taking a sip before setting the bottle on the counter. He cupped my chin in his hand and kissed me gently on the lips.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, and I nodded. He smirked playfully and leaned in close to my ear, whispering, "If you ever want to pick up where we left off yesterday, just give me a heads up, alright?"

"Dave!" I giggled shyly. He chuckled along and took another sip of his beer.

"Come on, let's go join the others."

I grabbed my beer and the plate of breakfast, following him back to the living room where we all gathered. James picked up his guitar and started strumming some tunes, occasionally bouncing ideas off the others while I sat between Cliff and Dave, listening intently. After a month of living together, these moments of easy camaraderie among the five of us had become more frequent, and I felt genuinely happy there, like I had rarely felt before.

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