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fandom-imagines-stories · 8 days ago

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Happy Fourth of July

Lt. Robert ‘BOB’ Floyd x Reader

Words: 3341

Summary: Penny hosts an Independence Day Bash that the whole gang is invited to. The reader finds herself drawn to a certain, quiet WSO.

Notes: The amount of will power it took to not name this Independence Day… Anyway, this one is just super sweet and fluffy and was a blast to write. I hope you enjoy!

More Bob and 80s-inspired movies: HERE

There was no reason to be nervous. You knew that. Everyone there was friendly- well, friendly-ish. They were pilots. Not that that bothered you. You knew tons of pilots. It came with working at The Hard Deck. They were flirty, arrogant, and sometimes couldn’t pay their tab, but if they were invited by Penny, then they couldn’t be so bad… right?

You straightened your red, western-style vest and looked in the mirror. You felt a bit like a rodeo clown, but Penny insisted it made you look ‘like a sexy firecracker’, whatever that meant. Paired with a white tank top and denim shorts, you looked thoroughly decked out for the holiday.

“Making a fool out of yourself is one of the best parts of life,” Penny had said when she took you shopping. “You’ll learn that the longer you spend with those yahoos.”

“And by yahoos, you mean your boyfriend?” You snickered. “Also, nobody says yahoo anymore.”

“Yes, Maverick, but also his pilot ducklings that treat him like he’s a god. And believe me, when you meet them,” you’ll understand. Was all the elaboration she gave you.

Maverick equals plane god. Pilots equal… ducks?

You checked your hair one more time and decided it would just have to be good enough or else you’d fuss over it for another hour. If you didn’t force yourself out that door, there was every chance Penny would sail over and drag you out herself. She said she always liked an excuse to come out to Sky Reef.

It was the reason you moved out to North Island to begin with. Your grandfather owned a small island off the coast with a bungalow and sail boat. He always kept to himself, except when he was getting drinks at the Deck with his old Navy buddies. It was close enough that getting to work was never an issue, but far enough that the noise of the beach didn’t quite reach you.

As your little boat made its way across the stretch of water, you spotted a huddle of people on the beach. They darted around, their laughter carrying out to you across the waves. A ball flew back and forth but it wasn’t like any game of football you’d ever seen. Behind them, smoke trailed up from a barbecue, and Penny waved.

“Y/N!” She called out. “You came!”

You laughed, waving back. “Here I am!”

Her voice sang over the crowd, like a queen commanding her knights. “Boys, go help her at the dock. I need her for the drinks!”

You’d promised to make your grandfather’s famous boozy iced tea. Penny had begged you for the recipe for years but the old man swore you to secrecy. She jokingly dubbed it North Island Iced Tea, which wasn’t too far off to be honest.

Three of the players from the beach jogged across the sand to the small dock she let you use whenever you had a shift. Your grandfather’s boat wasn’t too big, so you didn’t have to worry about running aground. It also meant you didn’t really need help tying her off, so you had a sneaking suspicion that Penny had ulterior motives. You had the knots half done by the time they even reached you.

“Well, fellas, I think our work here is done for us,” one of them said, grin spreading on his face. “Which just leaves room for introductions.” A handshake accompanied a wink. “Jake Seresin.”

You took his hand, unable to hide a smirk of your own. “I believe we’ve met, Lieutenant.” He raised a brow. “Penny made you buy a round for that terrible pick-up line.”

The mustachioed one next ot him howled with laughter, pityingly putting an arm around his shoulder. You crossed your arms, letting the confidence of the moment take over like riding a wave.

“And don’t think I don’t remember having you thrown overboard, Bradshaw,” you scolded. “No amount of pretty piano playing could save you from a declined card.”

Now it was Jake’s turn to snicker, blowing out a low whistle. But it wasn’t the two of them you were paying attention to, no. It was the one kneeling at the edge of the dock, tying off the last line.

“Thank you,” you said, walking over to him.

The man’s eyes widened behind his glasses as his head snapped up, like he was surprised you’d noticed him at all.

“Oh, um,” he let the extra line fall against the post. “You’re welcome.” For a second, he just stood there, looking at you, but then he held out a hand. “I’m Bob.”

There was something about his small, nervous smile that had heat creeping into your chest.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah. You work with Penny, right?” His fingers grazed your wrist and sent a shiver up your arm.

“I work for Penny,” you laughed. “I think I’ve seen you in before.”

“Bob here is our stealth man,” Jake said, patting him roughly against his chest. “But hey, it’s always the quiet ones.” He winked at you again.

Bob ducked his head to hide his blush. You remembered him a little more, then. He was always polite when he ordered and always carried all the drinks back to the others. And he always wished you a nice day.

“Well, boys,” you said to all three, “those drinks aren’t going to make themselves.”

Bradley Bradshaw gave you a mock salute. Jake just smiled that cocky, flyboy smile, and Bob double checked the lines. You stayed back with him, the quietness of his demeanor calming amongst the blaring music and chatting crowd. The two of you fell into step together, listening to the calm roll of the waves beneath your feet.

“So do you like working at the Hard Deck?” He asked, though you could barely what him over the game of not-football. Bradley and Jake had rejoined, playfully tackling each other.

“Yeah,” you said, still watching the game unfold. “Yeah. Penny has been great and you Navy boys always keep things interesting.” You tried to follow along, but they all ran around each other with no apparent formation or anything. “I’m sorry, but what the hell are they playing?” You stopped so abruptly, his shoulder bumped yours. It’s your turn to blush and his sheepish smile returned with excitement.

“Dogfight football,” he said. “Maverick taught us. It’s offense and defense at the same time.” His gaze followed one of the women playing as she made her way down the beach. She must have scored, because he yelled, “Yeah Phoenix!” Bob turned his attention back to you. “It’s a lot of fun.”

“Looks like it.” You continued along the dock and onto the beach, turning back to him, expecting him to still be watching the game, but he was looking at you. “Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you want to get back in.”

There was that shy smile again. “Actually, I could use a break.”

That feeling in your chest swelled. To be looked at the way he looked at you. To be noticed, really noticed, not like guys sometimes did at the bar. Irises the color of the ocean you’d just sailed on stared into yours with interest and attention and you could do nothing but keep walking with him at your side.

Penny and Pete stood over the grill together. She cooked, he mostly tried to sneak a grilled peach and kept getting swatted at by her spatula. You’d met Captain Mitchell a couple of times. He was exactly how you always imagined your grandfather when he was young- charming, a little over-confident, and only able to love so completely, it showed in everything he did.

“So she didn’t manage to scare you off, huh Bob?” Pete teased, hooking an arm around you for a side hug.

Bob glanced at you again. Noticing. “No, sir.”

“I told you,” Pete tsked, tossing a drink umbrella at the younger pilot. “This is a party, Bob. You don’t have to call me sir.”

Bob just nodded, muttering another ‘yes, sir’ which earned him another umbrella to the cheek. He flinched but didn’t deflect it, making all of you laugh.

“Will you quiet it?” You scolded, snatching the container of drink accessories away from Pete. “I need those.”

Penny snickered, flipping over a hamburger and shaking her head. “You are just as bad as they are, I swear.” She pointed at the group of people tackling each other on the beach.

Pete’s grin never faltered for a second. “You’d better help the lady with those drinks, lieutenant." He kissed Penny’s cheek. “I think our captain is getting restless.” He reached over her shoulder and managed to pop a slice of peach in his mouth only to spit it out again. “Shit, that’s hot.”

“I only told you that a dozen times!”

You smiled at the couple and found yourself reaching for Bob’s hand. “Come on. The stuff’s in here.”

His fingers laced together with yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. That alone made your head swim more than any drink you could mix up. The two of you went into the bar, where Penny had left out what she thought were the ingredients you needed. You laughed to yourself and put them all away, grabbing the large pitcher.

“Now,” you said, counting out the correct bottles. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to turn around.” Bob’s head tilted, a little line forming between his brows. You giggled like a kid and only felt a little embarrassed by it because this man was just so cute. “This is a secret recipe. Upon pain of death, lieutenant.” You made a twirling motion with your finger.

“I see. Well, when you put it that way.” He did as he was told, turning so his back was to you. “I wouldn’t want to compromise your mission.”

“Thank you.” You grabbed another pitcher since there was such a big group and began to mix the right liquors to make the iced tea, using very little actual tea.

“So are you from the area?” Bob asked, rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands were clasped behind him and his eyes scanned everything on his side of the bar.

“No, actually. I moved out here to take care of my grandpa a couple of years ago.” You’d made the drink so many times, it felt like second nature now, pouring the ingredients together and adding ice. “Penny gave me a job and I’ve loved it here ever since.”

“Is your grandfather coming tonight?”

You couldn’t help the wince that overtook your features. “No. He, uh, passed away last year.”

Bob glanced briefly over his shoulder, a deep and sympathetic look on his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. He was sick for a long time and-” You inhaled. “Eyes forward, soldier.”

Bob whipped back around. “Right, sorry.”

You were just about done anyway, only needing to take a few glasses out and pour you each a drink for ‘testing’. “Alright, you can look now.” Holding one out for him, you took a sip of your own to make sure it was right. Sweet, refreshing, and packing a punch.

Bob drank and his eyes widened. “Wow.”

“Right?” You grabbed one of the pitchers while he got the other. “Careful, though, this stuff will sneak up on you.”

“Noted,” he chuckled. “Don’t give it to the firework brigade.” He took another sip and followed you back out to rejoin the party.

Through the whole of dinner, you were catching up on how the team met and the journey of Maverick- rebellious pilot to reluctant teacher to Penny’s grill bandit. Now, the group of Top Gun top pilots met every chance that they could, many of them having formed deep friendships, even the unlikely pairs like Bob and Jake, or as they called him, Hangman.

“We should make this a tradition,” Penny suggested. “Every fourth, I’ll throw a dinner and you idiots better do your best to get your asses here for it.”

Another group might have said yes halfheartedly, knowing that they would come up with some excuse not to come next year. But when everyone raised their glasses and cheered in agreement, you knew they meant it. The thought made your smile widen even more.

“And I hear one of us may be around more often.” Pete motioned to the young man next to you. “Rumor has it, Robert Reynolds will be assisting in the WSO course at Top Gun.”

A collective round of hoots and hollers made its way around the table while Bob’s face turned red. Pete patted him on the back with a “I look forward to working with you.”

Penny shot you a knowing look across the table.

You frowned.

She shrugged innocently and poured herself another glass of tea.

“Professor Baby-On-Board.” Jake teased, rustling Bob’s hair. Bob shoved him off, but couldn’t help laughing.

“So I guess that means we’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” Penny said, giving you another eyebrow-raise.

“Yeah.” Bob cleared his throat, sneaking a glance at you. “Yeah, I hope so.”

Penny nodded, a plotting smile spreading across her face. You pretended not to notice.

“Does anybody want some more chips?” You asked, forcing your attention to the empty bowl instead of the very cute and soon-to-be very local naval pilot beside you. Just because he was sticking around didn’t mean you needed to get your hopes up. So you picked up the bowl and headed back toward the bar for a refill.

“Bob, could you go help Y/N grab the extra BBQ chips from inside? I think there should be several bags,” Penny asked sweetly, making you roll your eyes and snicker to yourself.

“Yes, ma’am.” Bob wasted no time and caught up with you in just a few strides. “What’s so funny?”

You just shook your head and took the bowl inside. Once the door was closed, you flashed him an apologetic look. “I”m sorry about her. Ever since my grandpa died, she must be worried I’m going to keel over on the island all alone and-”

“I’m sorry,” Bob held up a hand, “what are you talking about?” He watched with such sweet curiosity it melted your heart.

“Well, Bob, I think you have become the next victim in Penny’s match-making project.”

“Oh.” He stayed in the doorway, pushing up his glasses. “I did think it was weird she thought you need help carrying chip bags. I mean, you definitely seem like a strong and capable woman who can take any bag of sliced spuds she comes across.” He glanced back up with a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know,” you sighed dramatically at the whole two bags on the counter. “Seems like a two-man job to me.”

His uncertainty faded into something warm in his chest. He liked the way you laughed, like there was a joke he was finally in on. You noticed him. He didn’t know how else to explain it. You saw him when so often he was left in the background. And he liked it.

“If you insist,” he teased back, snatching up both bags so you could just take the bowl. Bob let you go ahead, admiring the way the straps of your sundress sat delicately on your shoulders, sun-kissed and freckled in places.

He couldn’t help but hope that maybe, if he was reading you correctly, Penny might be on to something.

Around sunset, the crew began setting up the firework “show stopper”, as Jake called it. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen that many explosives, if ever. A part of you even wondered if they had to get permission from the Navy for something this big. With Maverick’s reputation, though, you figured it might lean more towards a forgiveness over permission kind of deal. While the others stood around, putting things together, you found yourself beside Bob, both of you staring out at the orange and gold horizon.

“This is my favorite part,” Bob said. “Before it all starts.” His glasses reflected the sunset and he nervously toyed with the hem of his shirt.

“Not a fan of fireworks, huh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “Smoke in the air.”

Your stomach sank. Of course. The Fourth was known for being a holiday that could trigger PTSD, and, from what Penny said, these guys had seen a lot.

Bob gave you a shy smile and tucked his hands in his pockets. “It’s not so bad. I like watching the colors and everything. It’s mostly just the noise. And they all really like doing them, so…” He trailed off.

An idea sparked in your mind and, once again, your fingers intertwined with his. “Come with me.”

Bob glanced back at the others, waiting for some catcall or teasing remark, but they were all focused on getting set up. He nodded and you nearly pulled him off his feet, leading him down to a small boat at the dock.

“Where are we going?” He laughed, almost out of breath from how fast you were dragging him.

“Just trust me.” You started the boat’s small engine and he climbed on board.

Bob was right. His old squadron were too busy with the fireworks to notice the little vessel cutting across the water. Penny, however, shaded her eyes and watched you go.

“Y/N leaving already?” Pete asked, his gaze following hers.

“I think we’ve been ditched for a party of two,” she said, beaming.

The sun was gone when you reached the island and the first few stars were coming out to watch the show. You docked and Bob tied the lines. He marveled at the quaint waterfront house at the end of the beach.

“You live here?” He awed.

You blushed. “My grandpa left it to me. He said I was the only one he wanted to have it.” Finishing up with the boat, you found the perfect spot on the beach to see the other shore. “Wait here, I’ll go get something to sit on.”

You rushed inside to the little storage shed attached to the bungalow. Just next to the door was a large, navy-blue blanket. On the other side were two folded up lawn chairs. After a brief consideration, you bit your lip and grabbed the blanket.

Bob stood along the tide, letting it wash over his feet. Hearing the door behind him, he turned, the excitement and nerves he got every time he looked at you building up at you. Even in the faint light of the stars, you looked beautiful.

“I think they’re about to start,” he said.

You laid out the blanket and stretched yourself over it, propping yourself up on your hands. After a second's hesitation, he joined you, half sitting, half lying down like you were. His hand planted right beside yours, the tips of his fingers grazing yours.

“We’ll still hear them, but it shouldn’t be as loud,” you explained. “And the smoke won’t reach over here-”

“Can I guess you?” Bob blurted, already leaning forward like you were drawing him in with each breath.

You were taken off guard for a second and your collective shyness settled between the two of you. But, with a shaky breath, you managed to say, “Yes.”

Bob’s eyes fell to your lips. His hand moved on top of yours. Slowly, he closed the space between you. His lips were soft and tasted like the watermelon you’d had with dinner. Your hand came up to his face. His moved to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You didn’t even notice the first firework go off.

It really was a spectacular show, as promised, and the distance helped to settle Bob’s anxiety. Well, that, and the warmth of your body against his as you spent the night in each other’s arms, watching sparks take over the sky.

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #independence day #bob floyd x reader #lewis pullman imagine #lewis pullman #robert floyd #top gun maverick bob #penny top gun #fourth of july

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akawifeyy · 5 months ago

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reputation | smau (CS55)

description: ...and in the death of her reputation, she'd never felt more alive. the story of y/n l/n, and how one scandal altered her life forever.

tropes: us against the world, reinvention, age gap (25 and 30), mv33!ex, popstar!reader

face claim: sabrina carpenter

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing, hate speech & misogyny

| note: currently clowning as i wait for the release of reputation (taylor's version), so i wrote a fic based on it!

comments (9103):

@ user1: diabolical coming from a man who looks like sid the sloth 🤨

@ user2: I don't listen to Y/N L/N's music, but she deserves more credit than what Max is giving her.

-> @ user3: I agree, you don't get famous from nothing. she put in a lot of work and Max is invalidating that

@ user4: no way bro is reducing her to just a pretty face when he lacks that 🗣️

@ yourusername: was i just a fool?

tagged: @ yourbffusername

comments (3742):

@ user5: We love you Y/N 🫶

@ user6: don't listen to the haters y/n we absolutely adore you

@ yourbffusername: my flawless queen 👑

@ user7: Everything Max Verstappen says about you is true, you sound like a dying whale every time you open your mouth

comment deleted by @ yourusername

Interview with Max Verstappen (2025):

After being asked about his opinion on his ex — Y/N L/N —'s newest single, Max Verstappen grew visibly agitated and attempted to change the subject. When forced to reply, he scathingly responded, "She used me as a stepping stool to reach the next level of fame, and she got what she wanted. The past is in the past, and I don't care about her anymore."

comments (29458):

@ user3: Insinuating that Y/N slept with him to become famous is repulsive, and I hope Max gets what's coming for him

-> @ user8: didn't he literally cheat on y/n?? 😭

@ user9: "I don't care about her anymore" the eyes never lie chico, we know how you really feel

@ user10: I've never been a MV33 fan and this just adds fuel to the fire.

@ user11: can someone PLEASE explain to me what's going on? I know Max and Y/N were together at one point but I got grounded and had my phone taken away for a loooong time so I don't even know anything anymore 🙂‍↔️

-> @ user8: @ popculturetea just made an amazing timeline explaining everything!

@ yourusername's Private Instagram Story

@ popculturetea's Timeline

@ f1ynlover: mama y papa, mama y papa

tagged: @ carlossainzjr, @ yourusername

comments (4852):

@ user12: I bet Y/N doesn't wanna touch another F1 driver with a ten foot pole, but this pairing would absolutely devour 😜

-> @ user8: he would 100% match her freak

@ yourusername: i do love chili peppers 🌶️

@ yourusername: we're balling not bawling

tagged: @ yourproducer, @ carlossainzjr

comments (3832):

@ user13: OMG

@ yourproducer: Next big song is on the way!

@ user14: Carlos Sainz tagged is crazyyyy

-> @ user4: he's definitely the mystery man 🫣

Text messages between Carlos and Y/N (2025):

@ grillthegrid: The difference between Max Verstappen (c. 2022) and Max Verstappen (c. 2025). Crazy

tagged: @ f1, @ maxverstappen

comments (49325):

@ user15: NOT THE OFFICIAL GRILL THE GRID ACC PIPING IN ON THIS DRAMA

-> @ user16: it's the loss of y/n effect 🤗

@ user17: Cheating on Y/N will do that to you lmaoo

@ user18: Sid the sloth ahh 🥱🥱

@ carlossainzjr: F1 drivers were given a second chance, and I wasn't going to screw it up. Más que feliz de ser su pimiento picante para siempre. Happy 2 months, mi amor.

(More than happy to be her spicy pepper forever.)

tagged: @ yourusername

comments (7392):

@ yourusername: you're so much better <3

@ user1: soooo cute 🥲🥰

@ user19: Spicy pepper and firecracker, a dream made in heaven

-> @ user20: They're perfect for each other omg 🥹

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #cs55 #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #formula one #f1 fic #f1 writer #f1 fanfic #f1 smau

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head-explode · 2 years ago

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Me fr

voltorb girl who stims by blowing up over and over

#cracker.wav #firecracker the clown #rotomblr #rotumblr #pkmn irl

41 notes · View notes

thedensworld · 6 months ago

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Family Outings | K. Sy

Genre: Fluff, parents au!

Summary: In a family outing, Soonyoung finally able to make a proper thanks to his mother after trying to keep up with his sons.

Welcome to The Densworld Kwon Soonyoung 🤍🌼

Soonyoung’s life became a whirlwind of joy and laughter ever since he started a family with you. From the moment he got married, he always imagined himself as a quintessential "girl dad." In his daydreams, he pictured himself wearing a sparkly tiara, cradling a tiny teacup, and proudly sporting mismatched nail polish in the favorite colors of his daughters. He thought he’d master the art of braiding hair and join endless tea parties with princess costumes and giggles filling the air.

But life had other plans. The moment his first son, Kwon Yootae, was born, he realized he was destined to be a father of sons. And not just any father—he was made for this. The role suited him so naturally it even surprised him.

Got a kid who needs to burn off endless energy? Enter dancer Soonyoung, always ready to tire them out with moves no one asked for.

Need a little discipline in the house? Strict Soonyoung appears, balancing warmth with authority in a way that commands respect.

Kid having a bad day and needing a laugh? Comedian Soonyoung is there to clown around, pulling faces, cracking jokes, and doing whatever it takes to make his sons’ smiles come back.

“I could do this forever,” Soonyoung said one day, grinning ear to ear. “Raising boys is the most fun I’ve ever had.”

“It’s because you always act like you’re their age,” Jihoon retorted, deadpan as always, delivering a truth Soonyoung couldn’t argue with.

Soonyoung’s sons, six-year-old Yootae and four-year-old Gitae, couldn’t be more different yet somehow mirrored him in distinct ways. Yootae, the eldest, was calm and reserved, much like you. He had a love for books that made your heart swell with pride, often curling up beside you for hours, reading quietly. But his need for attention? That came straight from Soonyoung. Yootae had a knack for saying the funniest things or sharing bizarre, almost unbelievable facts just to make people look his way. And when he succeeded, his little face lit up, a perfect blend of your quiet charm and Soonyoung’s flair for the spotlight.

Then there was Gitae, your little firecracker. Gitae was the embodiment of pure energy, a whirlwind of flips, jumps, and splits that seemed to defy the laws of physics. The only time he ever slowed down was when he caught a cold—and you and Soonyoung dreaded those moments more than anything. You’d much rather have him bouncing off walls than lying listlessly in bed. “He’s like me on a sugar rush,” Soonyoung joked once.

The group chat was always buzzing with stories of Soonyoung’s adventures as a dad. One night, he shared an anecdote that left the members of Seventeen in stitches.

“You should see Gitae during family mafia games,” Soonyoung said, shaking his head in disbelief. “He’s just like me—so good at bluffing, it’s scary. Sometimes he gives me goosebumps.”

“Wait,” Jun interjected, shocked. “Did you just call your son a freak?”

“Well, he is! In the best way!” Soonyoung laughed, completely unbothered.

Raising boys had turned Soonyoung’s world upside down in the most beautiful way. It wasn’t what he initially envisioned, but it was even better. The bond he shared with Yootae and Gitae was special, filled with laughter, chaos, and tender moments that made him grateful every single day. Watching Soonyoung thrive as a dad, you couldn’t help but smile. He was the kind of father who made parenting look like an adventure, and your family was all the better for it.

"Dad, promise me you'll watch my drum recital next week," Yootae said, his small face filled with determination as he walked into the kitchen where Soonyoung was helping you prepare dinner.

Soonyoung glanced at him, smiling warmly. "Of course, I’ll be there. But how about you help me with something first?" He handed Yootae the utensils and gestured toward the dining table. "Set the table for me, champ."

As Yootae dutifully walked off to complete his task, Gitae was sprawled on the living room floor, eyes glued to a video of one of Soonyoung's dance practices. Mimicking every move with astonishing precision, he twirled, jumped, and hit every beat as if he were part of the team.

“Gitae, great move!” Soonyoung called out, beaming with pride as he caught sight of his younger son nailing one of the harder steps. Turning back to you, he leaned against the kitchen counter with a grin. “What do you think about him becoming an idol someday?”

“That’d be good,” you replied with a knowing smirk, stirring the soup bubbling on the stove. “We’ll send him to dance practice every time you bribe him with candy.” The sharp edge of sarcasm in your tone wasn’t lost on Soonyoung, and he winced at the memory.

You were referring to the night he’d given the boys candy—secretly, of course—before heading out to work, leaving you alone to deal with the sugar-induced chaos that followed. It had taken hours to calm them down and even longer to get them to sleep.

Soonyoung walked over to you, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. Sliding his arms around your waist from behind, he rested his chin lightly on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby. No more candy without your consent. I promise.”

“That includes donuts too,” you shot back, though your voice softened as his warmth melted away your annoyance.

Soonyoung nodded solemnly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your cheek. “And donuts. Noted.”

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his sincerity, even if you knew his mischievous streak wouldn’t vanish overnight. You were strict about what your kids consumed for good reason. You worked hard to ensure their meals were balanced, nutrient-packed, and beneficial to their growing bodies. Too much sugar turned them into tiny whirlwinds of energy, leaving them cranky and impossible to settle when bedtime rolled around.

"Yootae, don’t forget to line up the chopsticks neatly!" you called, glancing at your eldest, who was now carefully arranging the cutlery.

“Okay, Mom!” he responded, his voice cheerful.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Gitae attempting to replicate a more complicated move from the video, almost toppling over but recovering with a laugh. Soonyoung released you and clapped his hands in encouragement. “That’s it, Gitae! You’ve got this!”

In the middle of dinner, Soonyoung’s phone buzzed on the counter. He picked it up, his face lighting up when he saw who was calling. “It’s Mom,” he said, quickly answering. “Hi, Mom! What’s going on?”

His mother’s cheerful voice filled the room, audible even to you and the kids. “Hi, sweetheart! We’re planning a little family outing next weekend, but this time, we’re keeping it simple—just in the backyard. Your sister is coming too, and we’re hoping to see everyone there. It’s been too long since we’ve all been together!”

“Backyard barbecue?” Soonyoung guessed, grinning as he leaned back in his chair.

“Exactly! Dad’s already excited to fire up the grill, and I’m planning to make everyone’s favorite dishes. You should come early so the boys can play in the garden,” his mom said.

“That sounds perfect!” Soonyoung replied enthusiastically, his voice a little louder than usual as excitement bubbled through him. “The boys will love it. We’ll definitely be there!” His grin widened as he placed his phone down, and it was clear he was already imagining the day—the laughter of children running through his parents’ backyard, the smell of grilled meat wafting in the air, and the warmth of family all around.

He turned to you, his eyes bright and full of joy, as if the plan had already taken shape in his mind. “It’ll be great!” he said, his hands gesturing animatedly. “A cozy backyard gathering, all the cousins playing together, Mom’s food, Dad’s barbecue skills—how could it get any better?”

You smiled faintly at his enthusiasm, but the feeling of guilt that had been sitting in the pit of your stomach all day now weighed heavier. The truth you’d been putting off telling him clawed its way forward, demanding to be spoken. You shifted slightly in your seat, the clinking of your chopsticks against your bowl breaking the silence.

“It does sound lovely,” you started, choosing your words carefully. “But I have a work commitment that weekend. I don’t think I can make it.”

The happy buzz in the room dimmed just slightly. Soonyoung paused, processing your words, before flashing you an understanding smile. “That’s okay,” he said, his tone reassuring. “I’ll take the boys, and we’ll represent the Kwon family in full force. You can catch up with us after your work is done.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, guilt tugging at you. “That’s a lot to handle on your own, especially with Gitae’s energy.”

Soonyoung leaned closer, his signature playful grin returning. “Have you forgotten who I am? I’m Kwon Soonyoung—master entertainer, expert dad, and barbecue connoisseur. I’ve got this.”

Yootae, who had been quietly listening, looked up with a hint of concern. “But, Mom, you won’t be there to eat Grandma’s pie with us.”

Your heart sank, and you reached out to hold his little hand. “I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss that, too. But I promise we’ll have a special day just for us soon, okay? I’ll even make your favorite pie.”

Yootae nodded slowly, his lips forming a small smile. “Okay, Mom.”

Meanwhile, Gitae, who had been more focused on his plate than the conversation, suddenly perked up. “Can we play tag in Grandpa’s garden, Dad? I’m really fast!”

“Fast? Ha! I’m faster!” Soonyoung teased, ruffling his youngest son’s hair. “We’ll see who’s the fastest in the family on Saturday.”

“And no candy!” you interjected pointedly, giving Soonyoung a mock glare.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful smirk on his face. “No candy, no donuts—scout’s honor. But, uh, maybe just one marshmallow from the barbecue…?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling at his antics.

As the evening wound down, the house quieted with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the settling walls. You had just finished tucking the boys into bed, each of them fast asleep after the day’s adventures. Soonyoung lingered by the doorway of their room, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of their tiny chests as they dreamed.

“They’re finally out,” you whispered with a small smile, stepping away and closing the door gently behind you.

Soonyoung turned to you, his expression soft in the dim light of the hallway. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, slipping his arm around your shoulders as you walked back to the living room together.

You leaned into him, letting out a quiet sigh. “I just wish I could be there this weekend. I hate missing out on moments like these.”

He stopped you in your tracks, turning you to face him. His hands rested lightly on your waist as his thumbs traced soothing circles through the fabric of your shirt. “Don’t feel bad, okay?” His voice was warm and gentle, and the way he looked at you made it impossible to doubt his sincerity. “You’re doing your best. You always do. I’ll make sure the boys have a great time, and we’ll send you lots of pictures. You won’t miss a thing.”

The guilt weighing on you began to ease as his words settled in. “Thank you,” you murmured, resting your forehead against his chest.

Soonyoung wrapped both arms around you now, holding you close. For a moment, you stood there, cocooned in the quiet intimacy of the moment. “You know,” he said, his tone shifting slightly, a playful edge sneaking into his voice, “with the boys asleep and the house so quiet… we have a rare opportunity here.”

You tilted your head back to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “An opportunity for what?”

He grinned, his gaze dipping just slightly as his hands slid down to rest on your hips. “To remind you how much I love you,” he said, his voice lower now, the warmth of his breath brushing against your cheek.

A soft laugh escaped you, but your heart raced at the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. “Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?” you teased, your hands resting on his chest.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he whispered, “I have a few ideas.”

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, his touch grounding and electrifying all at once. The worries of the day melted away as you lost yourself in the moment, his presence overwhelming in the best way.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his grin was unapologetically mischievous. “Feel better now?”

You chuckled softly, your cheeks warm as you nodded. “Much better.”

“Good,” he said, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping back and taking your hand. “Now, how about I make us some tea, and we see where this rare quiet evening takes us?”

You followed him, a smile tugging at your lips as you realized, once again, just how lucky you were to have someone like Soonyoung.

Soonyoung climbed into his car, exhaling deeply as if he’d already run a marathon, even though it was barely morning. Behind him, the boys were buckled into their car seats, brimming with energy and excitement. Their chatter filled the car, contrasting sharply with Soonyoung’s tired demeanor. The morning had been chaotic, to say the least.

Your work agenda had started earlier than theirs, leaving Soonyoung to manage the boys’ bubbling enthusiasm alone. Thankfully, you’d packed their bags the night before, neatly organizing everything they’d need for the outing. At least that spared Soonyoung from the added panic of forgetting something crucial amidst the chaos.

“Gitae, grandmother wants to see you in this shirt. Let’s put it on,” Soonyoung had pleaded earlier, holding up a neatly folded shirt. But his youngest had been too engrossed in his impromptu performance of Maestro, twirling dramatically in the living room.

“Yootae! Are you ready?” Soonyoung had called out to his eldest, only to freeze in disbelief when he entered the room. Yootae, still wrapped in a towel, was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a bottle of lotion beside him untouched.

“Did you put on lotion yet?” Soonyoung asked, stepping closer.

Yootae immediately pumped the bottle, rubbing lotion onto his arms with exaggerated slowness, his wide eyes locked on his dad as if performing under pressure.

Soonyoung sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. “Alright, let’s just have a light breakfast, shall we?”

At the breakfast table, a simple bowl of cereal finally bought Soonyoung a few moments of peace. The boys sat quietly for once, munching away. It was enough time for him to catch his breath, gather his thoughts, and—most importantly—get himself ready.

As they settled in the car, Gitae wriggled with excitement. “I’m going to beat Leena in tag!” he declared confidently.

Yootae smirked, ever the realist. “Leena is faster than you, Gitae. And she has longer legs.”

“My legs got longer after dancing to Maestro. Right, Dad?” Gitae grinned, looking to Soonyoung for validation.

Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, buddy. Whatever helps you win.”

When they arrived at his parents’ house, the boys jumped out of the car with boundless energy, running straight into their grandfather’s open arms. Soonyoung carried the bags inside, his tired smile widening at the warmth of his father’s greeting.

“Y/n couldn’t make it?” his mother asked, noticing her absence.

“No,” Soonyoung replied, setting the bags down on the couch. “Her schedule pulled her out earlier than expected today.”

His mother chuckled knowingly. “You got them ready all by yourself, didn’t you?”

Soonyoung nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Good job, my son.” She patted his head affectionately before heading to the kitchen.

Not long after, his sister arrived with her husband and their daughters. The cousins immediately broke off into their groups—Soonyoung’s sons sprinting around the yard with their grandfather while his nieces calmly arranged their dolls on a picnic blanket.

Soonyoung settled on a bench beside his father, watching the kids. His mother and sister prepared the meat for the barbecue nearby, their laughter carrying on the breeze.

“Gitae looks so much like Y/n,” his father commented, nodding toward the younger boy.

“Everyone says that,” Soonyoung replied, smiling as he watched Gitae run across the yard.

“But he’s got your energy,” his father added with a laugh, shaking his head in amusement.

“I’m going to look like you when I get older,” Soonyoung teased, nudging his father.

His mother overheard and quickly interjected, “Don’t. Don’t be. Don’t embarrass your wife.”

Soonyoung burst out laughing, shaking his head as he helped his sister arrange plates and utensils. Despite their rocky relationship growing up, he’d found a sense of camaraderie with her since starting a family of his own.

“What’s it like having daughters, noona?” he asked, glancing at her girls, who were still engrossed in their dolls.

“I don’t get tired much,” she admitted, pointing out the difference. “Look at them—calm and quiet. Meanwhile, your sons…”

Soonyoung followed her gaze to Yootae and Gitae, who were racing around with their grandfather, Gitae screaming gleefully while Yootae laughed. He sighed, shaking his head.

“Getting them ready this morning was my biggest achievement,” he confessed. “It’s usually Y/n who handles that.”

His sister laughed, “They didn’t listen to you, did they?”

“Not even once! I told Yootae to put on lotion and underwear while I bathed Gitae, but when I checked, he was still sitting there with the lotion bottle.” Soonyoung rubbed his face in exasperation.

Their conversation was interrupted by a piercing cry. Gitae was on the ground, clutching his knee and wailing.

Soonyoung sighed deeply, already on his feet. “That’s alright, we’ve got you,” he said softly as he crouched beside his son, examining the scraped knee.

“It hurts!” Gitae sobbed, pointing to the bruise.

“I know, buddy,” Soonyoung said, scooping him up in his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re my strong little guy, right?”

Gitae sniffled, nodding slightly.

The day pressed on, and the chaos only seemed to grow. After cleaning Gitae’s scraped knee and soothing his tears with a superhero bandage, Soonyoung barely had time to take a sip of water before Yootae tripped over the garden hose, landing in the dirt. Another round of comforting, brushing off dirt, and reminding him to be careful followed.

Meanwhile, Gitae had already managed to get himself into another predicament, climbing the low branches of the cherry blossom tree despite Soonyoung’s repeated warnings. By the time Soonyoung pulled him down safely, the boys’ shirts were dirt-streaked, their hair sticking up in wild tufts.

“I told you both to stay out of trouble!” Soonyoung exclaimed, his voice tinged with exasperation as he wiped sweat from his brow.

“But, Dad, we were just playing!” Yootae defended, wide-eyed as if the entire mess was beyond his control.

“Yeah, and I’m Spider-Man!” Gitae added enthusiastically, flexing his little arms as though they could shoot webs.

Soonyoung slumped onto the patio bench, exhausted, as he watched the boys dart off again, their energy seemingly endless. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a groan. His mother, who had been quietly observing from the grill, walked over with a knowing smile and set a cup of iced tea in front of him.

“You’re just like them, you know,” she said, sitting beside him.

Soonyoung looked up, surprised. “What? Me?”

His mother nodded, chuckling softly. “When you were their age, you were exactly the same—always running around, climbing trees, getting into every kind of trouble imaginable. I couldn’t take my eyes off you for a second.”

Soonyoung laughed weakly, leaning back against the bench. “That sounds about right.”

“You’d get scrapes on your knees every other day, and you never stopped moving,” she continued, her eyes twinkling with nostalgia. “Your father was just as tired as you are now, and I’d always say, ‘One day, you’ll understand.’ Well, here you are.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he watched Yootae and Gitae chase their cousins across the yard. “I don’t know how you did it, Mom. This is exhausting. I miss Y/n so much right now.”

His mother gave him a warm smile, patting his knee. “Of course you do. It’s always easier when you have someone by your side. But you’re doing great, Soonyoung. You got the boys here in one piece, and they’re happy. That’s what matters.”

Soonyoung smiled faintly, grateful for her reassurance, but the ache of missing you lingered. He thought about how you always handled the chaos with such grace, calming the boys with a single look or turning their tantrums into laughter. You’d have known exactly how to manage Gitae’s climbing spree or Yootae’s dirt-covered mishap.

His mother’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, dear. You’re learning, just like we did. And for what it’s worth, you’re a better dad than your father and I ever were at your age.”

Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “I doubt that, Mom. But thanks.”

As he glanced at his boys again, he couldn’t help but smile. They were a handful, yes, but they were also a reflection of you and him—a mix of mischief, love, and boundless energy.

His mother stood, placing her hands on her hips as she looked out at the yard. “Now, go check on your boys before they turn that garden into a battlefield.”

Soonyoung groaned, standing up with a stretch. “Back to the front lines, huh?”

His mother laughed. “Parenting never stops, Soonyoung. But don’t forget to call Y/n later. She’d love to hear about how you survived the day.”

He grinned, already planning to call you the moment he could steal a quiet moment. He needed to hear your voice, to tell you just how much he appreciated you and missed having you by his side. For now, though, he had two little whirlwinds to manage.

“Hi, beautiful,” Soonyoung greeted you with a warm smile as you walked through the door. His voice was soft, and you noticed he was already in his pajamas—a pair of satin ones you hadn’t seen him wear in ages. They were expensive, gifted by you on your anniversary, and seeing him in them now made you suppress a laugh.

“You finally decided to wear those?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked, running a hand through his slightly messy hair. “Figured tonight was special.”

You stepped inside, slipping off your shoes, and immediately noticed something unusual. The house was too quiet—eerily quiet. “Where are the boys? I don’t hear them.,” you said, glancing around as though they might pop out from behind the couch.

Soonyoung raised his eyebrows, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Well… I intentionally—unintentionally left them at my mom’s. They wanted to have a sleepover, and since tomorrow’s Sunday, I figured why not?”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, and then a burst of laughter escaped you. “What? You left them with your mom? Oh my gosh, baby!”

He laughed along with you, closing the door behind you and grabbing your things. “Hey, they practically begged me. I video-called them earlier, and they seemed fine. Besides, they wanted to stay with their cousins. It’s good for them!”

You plopped down on the couch, still laughing, and Soonyoung joined you, setting your things on the coffee table. “Your poor mom,” you muttered, shaking your head. “She’s going to have a tough time wrangling five grandchildren tonight.”

“I know!” Soonyoung said, his voice full of mock guilt. “I even told her that, but she insisted it’d be fine. She’s a saint, honestly.”

You leaned back into the cushions, letting out a contented sigh. “It feels so strange to have the house to ourselves. Weird, but also… kind of nice.”

Soonyoung looked at you with a grin, his hand brushing against yours. “Right? I felt the same way before you got back. It’s like we’re dating again, just the two of us. But then I also started feeling guilty, like I was abandoning my kids or something.”

You laughed at his dramatic tone, turning to face him. “I feel relieved, but at the same time, it’s like, am I a bad mom for enjoying this?”

Soonyoung chuckled, pulling you into his arms. “If you are, then so am I. Today was rough, baby. The boys were a handful. I even performed a bow to my mom—the deep New Year’s bow we always do—just to thank her for taking care of me.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “No way. You didn’t.”

“I did,” Soonyoung said with a straight face, though his lips twitched with amusement. “I was that desperate. Honestly, I might perform one for you after this because I owe you for doing this every day.”

You laughed so hard your sides hurt, leaning into his chest. “You’re unbelievable. So, what was harder—getting them ready this morning or keeping them out of trouble all day?”

“Both!” he exclaimed dramatically, resting his chin on top of your head. “Yootae wouldn’t put on lotion, and Gitae was running around shirtless, singing ‘Maestro.’ I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, still smiling. “Well, you survived. And honestly, I’m proud of you, Love. I really am.”

He looked at you with such softness that it made your heart flutter. “Thanks, baby. But I think I’ll stick to choreography and leave the morning routines to you.”

You laughed again, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Deal. But tonight, you’re all mine. No interruptions, no kids.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead. “I like the sound of that.”

Soonyoung's arms tightened around you, a playful glint in his eyes as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “You know,” he began, his voice dripping with mischief, “after today, I’ve been thinking…”

You raised an eyebrow, already bracing for whatever ridiculous thought was about to leave his mouth.

He smirked, his tone mock-serious. “Maybe we should try for a daughter. I heard they’re way less frantic to raise. Calm, quiet, reasonable—can you imagine that?”

You let out an incredulous laugh, lightly smacking his chest. “Oh, so now you’re an expert on parenting daughters because your sister’s kids play with dolls instead of climbing furniture?”

“Exactly,” he replied without missing a beat. “I mean, just think about it. No running around, no wrestling matches over who gets the last donut, no dramatic performances of ‘Hit’ at 8 a.m.”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Uh-huh. And who’s going to handle the teenage drama when your calm, quiet daughter slams her door in your face?”

Soonyoung’s grin faltered for a second before he recovered with a sly smile. “That’s where you come in, baby. You’re the expert in dealing with drama. I’ll just be the cool dad who lets her eat donuts and—”

“Stop right there.” You cut him off, laughing as you poked his chest.

He laughed along with you, leaning down until his nose brushed against yours. “Okay, okay. But admit it—you’d love to see a mini-you running around here. With your big, beautiful eyes, your sharp wit…”

“And my temper when you don’t listen?” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully.

“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “She’d keep me in line, just like you do.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he murmured, his lips brushing softly against yours. “But you love me anyway.”

You sighed dramatically, pretending to think about it. “I guess I do. But if we’re trying for a daughter, you’re taking the night shift for the first three years.”

“Deal,” Soonyoung whispered, sealing the agreement with a kiss. “Now, where should we start our daughter project?”

Your laughter echoed through the house, blending perfectly with the warmth of his embrace, the quiet night ahead promising nothing but love and playful chaos—just the way you liked it.

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calmcoldevening · 6 days ago

Note

Slashers on reader’s birthday? Please 🙏

Birthday

Michael Myers

You woke up to the feeling of someone's persistent gaze on you.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Michael standing in front of you. He was wearing his trademark mask, looking menacing. On his head was a festive rainbow cap. In his hands was a small cake in your favorite color, adorned with berries. The cake had a crooked "Happy B-day" written on it, with a lit candle in the center.

You smiled, making a wish and blowing out the candles. Michael nodded and placed the cake on the bedside table. It was only then that you noticed that the entire bed was covered in rose petals.

Michael left for a moment and returned with a small bag. He handed it to you and nodded again. Inside were several cute notebooks and a variety of sweets. Some of the packages had red drops shining on them. You smiled and wrapped your arms around Michael's waist, whispering a soft "thank you." He awkwardly hugged you back, stroking your hair.

Jason Voorhees

Jason carefully tied a soft ribbon around your eyes and picked you up. He didn't want to hold your hand, fearing that you might fall and injure yourself. When you finally reached your destination, he set you down on the ground. You could feel the soft, damp grass beneath your bare feet.

Jason carefully untied your eyes.

You opened your eyes. A large, soft blanket had been spread out on the grass. Berries, fruits, and various delicious snacks were arranged on it. There was a basket next to it, and a bottle of wine peeked out of it. In the middle of all this beauty was a cute cake with a smiling smiley face painted on it.

You turned around, wanting to hug Jason, but he awkwardly handed you a bouquet of colorful flowers. You took the bouquet, burying your nose in it and breathing in the pleasant scent. Jason took a step closer, wrapped his arms around your waist, and spun you around.

Happy birthday, Y/N.

Sinclair brothers

Vincent helped you down the stairs, not wanting you to stumble. You entered the living room and opened your eyes.

They had even cleaned up the house for the occasion. The living room was filled with balloons, and a large "Happy Birthday Love" sign hung over the table. There were plenty of snacks and your favorite dishes on the table.

You entered, and Bo triggered a firecracker. Confetti filled the room. Lester clapped his hands. They all came up and hugged you tightly, the dog happily rubbing against your leg.

"Happy birthday, bitch," Bo chuckled, slapping your ass, but Vincent slapped him on the back of the head.

"Happy holidays, Y/N!"

They all handed you colorful gift boxes, but before you could open them, they led you to the table. Bo was already opening a bottle of wine and preparing to say his first best toast of his life. And the last one.

John Kramer

John took you and all his "children" so that you could spend such a happy day at the amusement park. Before that, they gave you gifts and put on festive caps together. Mark refused until the last, but he restrained himself for your sake.

"Life is one, you have to enjoy every moment of it, my dear," John told you, pointing to some obscure attraction where people were screaming more than in his traps. You sighed nervously, and Lawrence was already buying you and Mark a ticket.

In the end, you went to a cafe, had milkshakes, and ate pizza. But Amanda dragged you all to karaoke, and now John has a headache from singing his "children." But you took a lot of cute and silly photos, one of which now hangs above his desk.

Art the clown

You come home tired after work, but as soon as you open the door, a cupcake flies at your face. It's a peculiar tradition of "cake in the face," but Art just thought that with a cake, he would get all your hair dirty and make you angry. So, just a simple strawberry cupcake.

You clean your face and see the room. It's decorated with balloons, stickers, blood, guts, and corpses in the corner... Oh, it's from the guys who bothered you at work, how cute. The entire wall is covered with large blood-stained letters that read "Happy Birthday Y/N".

...

Cute...

He smiles, closes the door behind you, takes your jacket off like a true gentleman, and leads you to the table. The table is set with a baked chicken, a variety of sweets, a normal cake, and appetizers. Little Pale Girl is already sitting at the table, waving at you. She forms a heart with her hands, and Art wraps his arms around your waist.

They've put in a lot of effort!

Charles Lee Ray

You haven't heard from your boyfriend all day, and it's making you upset. Is he going to leave you on your birthday? You get out of the bathroom and hear the doorbell ring. When you open the door, you see a box with a doll in it. That's a good guy. Is this a joke?

You open the box and take out the doll. "Hi, I'm Chucky!" A child's voice was coming from the doll's voice box, but then it was replaced by a rougher, strangely familiar voice, "..and happy birthday, bitch! And hey, were you waiting for me? You're little dressed and wet.." He chuckled with his plastic lips, and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, now seriously! My body is in the bedroom, don't be scared. I'm not gonna stay in the doll for long. Unless you want to fuck my unconscious body, baby... In fact, I've booked a table at a restaurant! So get ready while I return back into my human form. I find plastic limbs irritating!"

He takes you to the restaurant (already as that tall, handsome man in a neat suit) and you have a pleasant time together, enjoying each other's company and good alcohol. Perhaps the evening will end with something more heated...

---------

It's kinda short but I hope you'll

If it was your birthday, happy birthday luv!!! 🎉 ☄️

Pretty you and your bithes:

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thewulf · 1 year ago

Text

Troublemaker || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request -Hiiii! can you do a Dallas Winston x Curtis Sister Reader (maybe sodapop's twin?) who is soooo different than soda. She's a firecracker with a mouth on her that gets her in trouble? Dally finds himself repeatedly rescuing the Curtis sister reader, who always seems to get into trouble with her sharp tongue and rebellious streak... Read Rest Here

A/N: I kinda love this one deeply. Something about a troublemaker loving another one gets writing (alot) hahah hope you guys enjoy! Kinda OOC Dally at some points but idc, I love it!

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Curtis Sister)

Word Count: 5.3k +

TW: choice words, fighting, punching, blood, general Outsiders TW

1. Clowns at the Drive-In:

The night was alive with the buzz of excitement at the local drive-in, the air thick with the scent of popcorn and gasoline. The flickering lights of the movie screen cast shadows across the rows of cars parked haphazardly, each filled with eager teenagers seeking a brief escape from the monotony of their everyday lives.

But for you, the Curtis sister, it spelled trouble. Perched on the hood of your twin brother Sodapop's car, you exchanged barbs with a group of Socs who had taken offense to your sharp retorts and fiery demeanor. Sodapop himself was inside the concession stand, chatting with a few friends, while your youngest brother Ponyboy was engrossed in a book, oblivious to the brewing confrontation outside. You’d never catch Darry at one of these movie nights anymore.

"You think you're real funny, huh?" one of the Socs sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he loomed over you, his companions snickering behind him.

You merely smirked, unfazed by the hostility radiating from the group. "Funny enough to make you clowns laugh, that's for sure."

Your words were met with a chorus of jeers and taunts, fueling the fire of your defiance as you squared your shoulders and met their gazes head-on. But just as the tension reached its boiling point, a looming figure emerged from the concession stand, cutting through the crowd with a swagger that commanded attention. For Dally always had his eyes on you. Especially after your parents passed.

Dallas Winston, the epitome of reckless abandon and untamed rebellion, emerged from the shadows like a predator stalking its prey. His presence alone commanded attention, the faint glint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he sauntered towards the confrontation with an air of nonchalance.

As he drew closer, his leather jacket seemed to gleam in the dim light of the drive-in, the scent of cigarette smoke trailing behind him like a phantom. His gaze swept over the scene before him, taking in every detail with a predatory intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those unlucky enough to meet his stare. Dallas freaking Winston.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Dally drawled, his voice low and dripping with utter irritation as he finally spoke, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation before him.

The Socs, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, turned their attention to him, their expressions shifting from hostility to uncertainty as they recognized the infamous greaser in their midst. But despite their feigned courage, there was an underlying sense of unease in their demeanor, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked beneath Dally's cool exterior.

"This ain't none of your business, Winston," one of them muttered, his voice tinged with defiance but faltering in the face of Dally's imposing presence.

Dally merely smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he stepped between them and you, effectively cutting off any further confrontation with his sheer presence alone. His posture radiated confidence, a silent warning to anyone foolish enough to challenge him.

"I think it is now," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine as you watched from your perch on the hood of the car. “You made it my problem.”

There was a tense silence as the standoff continued, the air heavy with anticipation as both sides weighed their options. But before things could escalate further, Dally's gaze flickered towards the Socs with a silent warning, a promise of consequences should they choose to push their luck any further.

With a final, angry glance in their direction, the Socs begrudgingly backed down, their bravado no match for the steely resolve of the infamous greaser. And as they slunk away into the shadows, defeated but not defeated, you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude mixed with a sense of awe at the enigmatic figure who had just saved you from a brawl you couldn't have won.

After Dallas stepped between you and the Socs, a cocky grin spread across his lips, revealing that usual glint of mischief in his eyes. "Your welcome, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance as he turned his attention to you.

You bristled at his audacity, your temper flaring like a matchstick ignited. With a roll of your eyes, you shot back, "Don't flatter yourself, tough guy. I could've handled those idiots just fine on my own."

Dallas chuckled, unfazed by your sharp retort. "Sure, looked like it," he remarked, his grin widening as he leaned against the hood of Sodapop's car, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly. "You know, not everyone needs a knight in shining armor to come to their rescue."

Dally raised an eyebrow, his expression turning contemplative as he studied you. "Maybe not, but it sure beats getting your pretty face smashed in by a bunch of Soc’s."

Your cheeks flushed with indignation at his comment, but you couldn't deny the underlying truth in his words. With a huff of frustration, you conceded defeat, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, maybe I owe you one," you muttered under your breath, your pride refusing to let you admit defeat outright.

Dally's grin widened at your admission, a glimmer of triumph shining in his eyes. "You owe me more than just one, sweetheart," he replied, his tone teasing as he pushed himself off the car. and sauntered away, leaving you seething with a mixture of irritation and reluctant admiration.

While you watched him disappear into the darkness, you couldn't help but wonder what it was about Dallas Winston that both infuriated and intrigued you in equal measure. And as the night stretched on, you found yourself unable to shake the feeling that your paths were destined to cross time and time again, whether you liked it or not.

2. A Brush with the Law:

In the midst of your rebellious streak, you found yourself in a predicament that even your usually suave tongue couldn't talk your way out of. It was one of those nights where mischief seemed like the only way to break free from the suffocating grip of the mundane.

The evening began innocently enough, with you and a few friends roaming the streets in search of excitement. The city lights flickered like distant stars, casting shadows that danced along the pavement, teasing you with the promise of adventure. But as the night wore on, the allure of mischief grew stronger, pulling you deeper into its grasp with each passing moment.

It started with harmless pranks and playful banter, the kind of mischief that left a trail of laughter in its wake. But as the hours stretched on and the adrenaline surged through your veins, the line between harmless fun and reckless abandon began to blur. The world became a playground, and you were determined to make the most of it, consequences be damned.

By now, the cops knew you on a first-name basis from all the petty trouble you had caused. They had become all too familiar with your antics, chasing after you like a dog chasing its tail, only to watch helplessly as you slipped through their fingers time and time again. They had warned you countless times, given you more chances than you deserved, but tonight felt different.

Tonight, there was a weariness in their eyes, a sense of resignation that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. They were tired. Tired of dealing with your antics, tired of letting you off with a warning only to see you back at it again the next day. It was as if they had reached the end of their patience, the final straw in a long line of frustrations that stretched back further than you cared to remember.

But even in the face of their stern warnings and thinly veiled threats, you couldn't bring yourself to stop. The thrill of rebellion was a drug, intoxicating and irresistible, and you were hooked. It was a dangerous game you played, dancing on the edge of disaster with reckless abandon, but in that moment, it was the only thing that made you feel truly alive. You needed it.

As they cornered you in the dimly lit alley, their voices stern and faces etched with grim determination, the threat of spending the night in jail loomed over you like a dark cloud. Panic gripped your chest in a vise-like grip, squeezing the air from your lungs as you frantically scanned the surroundings for a way out. But the walls of the alley closed in around you, leaving you feeling trapped and helpless, like a mouse caught in a cat's claws.

Your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences awaiting you if you were to be taken into custody. You couldn't shake the image of your oldest brother Darry's disappointed face, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and concern as he realized the extent of your latest misadventure. You knew he would be furious, not just at the trouble you had gotten yourself into, but at the worry and stress it would inevitably cause him and your other brothers. The fear of facing Darry's wrath was almost suffocating, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest as you grappled with the realization of just how badly you had messed up. In your reckless pursuit of excitement and rebellion, you had failed to consider the consequences of your actions, the fallout that would inevitably follow in their wake.

Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a familiar figure emerged from the entrance of the alley, his presence a welcome relief in the darkness. Dallas Winston stepped forward with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his piercing gaze locking with the officers' with an unwavering intensity.

"Easy there, fellas," Dally drawled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that bordered on insolence. "No need to get your badges in a twist."

His words sliced through the tension in the alleyway like a well-honed blade, disrupting the somber atmosphere with an unexpected twist. The officers, taken aback by Dallas's nonchalant demeanor, exchanged wary glances, unsure of how to respond to his brazen defiance.

But Dally, ever the master of manipulation, wasted no time in seizing the opportunity to sway the officers to your side. With a casual shrug of his shoulders and a smirk dancing at the corners of his lips, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you and the law enforcement with a confidence that bordered on audacity.

"Look, we all know she's a handful," Dally continued, his voice smooth and persuasive, laced with an undertone of genuine concern. "But taking her in ain't gonna solve anything. Trust me, I've tried. You know what they’ve been through."

As he spoke, a flicker of empathy flashed in his eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of the turmoil that had plagued your life since your parents' untimely demise. He knew all too well the pain of loss, the ache of abandonment that lingered long after the funeral flowers had withered away. And though he rarely showed it, there was a part of him that understood the reckless desperation that drove you to seek solace in acts of rebellion.

The officers, their resolve waning in the face of Dallas's persuasive charm, exchanged hesitant glances, silently wrestling with their conscience. They knew the Curtis family's tragic history, knew the burden of responsibility that weighed heavily on your shoulders in the wake of your parents' death. And as they looked into your eyes, they saw not a delinquent, but a lost soul searching for a way to fill the void left behind by loss and grief.

With a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world, the lead officer relented. His shoulders slumped in defeat; the lines of exhaustion etched deeply into his weary face as he stepped aside to allow you to pass. "Fine," he grumbled, the resignation evident in his voice, "but this is the last time."

His words hung heavy in the air, a somber reminder of the precarious balance between leniency and accountability that governed their duties as law enforcement officers. They had given you more chances than you deserved, turned a blind eye to your transgressions time and time again, but they knew that their patience was wearing thin. There was only so much they could overlook before the hammer of justice came crashing down with unrelenting force.

Dally, ever the opportunist, seized upon the moment of vulnerability with a triumphant smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He nodded in acknowledgment, a silent acknowledgment of their unspoken agreement as he draped an arm around your shoulders with an air of possessiveness. "Appreciate it, fellas," he remarked, his voice oozing with satisfaction as he guided you away from the alley, away from the looming threat of incarceration.

And as you walked side by side into the night, the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had come to your rescue once again. You glanced up at him, the flickering streetlights casting shadows across his features, and offered him a tentative smile of thanks. It was a small gesture, a token of appreciation for his unwavering loyalty and unyielding support in the face of adversity.

As you looked at him, his cocky grin softened by a flicker of genuine concern, you couldn't help but wonder what it was about him that drew you in like a moth to a flame. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, now held a warmth that caught you off guard, melting away the layers of cockiness to reveal a glimmer of vulnerability beneath.

But before you could dwell on it further, Dally's voice broke through your reverie, his words laced with a hint of amusement that conveyed the seriousness lurking just beneath the surface.

"You're quite the troublemaker, sweetheart," he remarked, his tone playful yet tinged with a note of concern.

You rolled your eyes in response, a smirk of your own tugging at the corners of your lips. "And you're quite the smooth talker, Winston," you replied, unable to hide the admiration in your voice despite your best efforts.

As the words left your lips, Dally's expression shifted, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. There was a weightiness to his gaze, a silent question lingering in the air as he studied you intently, his eyes searching for the truth behind your casual facade.

"Hey, are you actually alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, stripped of its usual playfulness. His concern was palpable, genuine, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he typically presented to the world. "This isn't like you, getting caught by the fuzz like that."

His unexpected tenderness caught you off guard, the sincerity in his question piercing through the layers bullshit you typically wore like armour. You hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the depth of his concern, before offering him a small nod of reassurance.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the words felt hollow even to your own ears. You forced a casual tone, hoping to brush off the weight of his inquiry, the nagging doubts that gnawed at the edges of your mind. "Just got a little carried away, that's all."

But even as you spoke, you knew it wasn't just a momentary lapse in judgment. There was a restlessness inside you, a longing for something more than the mundane routine of everyday life, that drove you to seek out trouble wherever you could find it. And in that moment, as you stood before Dally with his piercing gaze fixed upon you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you.

Dally continued to study you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and understanding. He didn't press further, sensing that there was more to your story than you were willing to reveal. Instead, he offered you a small, understanding smile, a silent reassurance that he would be there for you whenever you were ready to open up.

"I get it," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

His words caught you off guard, a flicker of warmth spreading through your chest at the sincerity behind them. And as you met his gaze, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had dared to care when no one else did.

With a subtle squeeze of his arm around your shoulders, Dally offered you a reassuring smile, a silent promise that he would always be there to watch your back, no matter what trouble you managed to find yourself in. And as you walked side by side into the night, the echoes of his words mingling with the sounds of the city, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the tough greaser who had dared to care when no one else did.

3. Escaping a Sticky Situation:

As the Friday night lights illuminated the football field, casting a glow of excitement over the small town, the air crackled with anticipation. It was meant to be a harmless prank, a bit of mischief to inject some excitement into the dull routine of small-town life. But what had started as a simple joke quickly spiraled out of control, and you, the Curtis sister, found yourself in a precarious situation.

The prank had been innocent enough at first—a bit of good-natured rivalry between the Greasers and the Socs. However, things took a dangerous turn when the Soc boys, their egos bruised and their tempers flaring, decided to retaliate with more than just words. They targeted you, singling you out from the crowd, their menacing glares and clenched fists leaving no doubt about their intentions.

Your heart raced with adrenaline, panic clawing at your chest as you frantically searched for a way out of the tightening circle of Soc boys. But as the situation grew more dire, Dallas Winston yet again emerged like a savior in the darkness, his presence a welcome relief amidst the chaos and looming threat of violence. By this point you were convinced it was your brothers who had him watching you for how else could he, quite literally, always be there to say you from these situations?

As the chaos unfolded near the stands, Dallas Winston's arrival seemed almost surreal. At first, his laughter echoed across the small courtyard area, a stark contrast to the tension thickening the air. But as he surveyed the scene, his amusement quickly morphed into a glare of righteous anger.

"Buncha tough guys picking on a little lady, huh?" Dally's voice cut through the chaos like a knife, his tone dripping with disdain as he confronted the Soc boys. His words carried a weight of accusation, a challenge to their masculinity and decency.

As Dally's words hung in the air, the Soc boys hesitated, their usual boastfulness faltering under his scathing gaze. But one of them, bolder—or perhaps more foolish—than the rest, reached out and laid a hand on your arm, his grip tight and menacing.

Instantly, Dally saw red.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, his fists flying in a blur of motion as he unleashed a barrage of punches on the Soc who dared to lay hands on you. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, the sound echoing across the field like a drumbeat of fury.

The other Soc boys, realizing their mistake too late, attempted to intervene, but Dally was a force to be reckoned with. With a ferocity born of righteous anger, he fought like a man possessed, his only thought to protect you from harm.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was likely only seconds, Dally's onslaught came to an end. The Soc who had dared to touch you lay crumpled on the ground, bloodied, and bruised, but alive.

Dally stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline, his eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and triumph. The other Soc's had long since fled, likely for help. But he didn’t give a damn. His attention was now on you. And as he turned to you, his expression softened with a mixture of relief and concern, seeing you standing there relatively unharmed. It was when he saw the tears in your eyes that he knew he had to do something.

Dally's gaze softened further as he approached you with caution, the fire in his eyes dimming to reveal a rare glimpse of vulnerability. He reached out tentatively, his rough hand coming to rest on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence that had just unfolded moments before.

"Hey, it's alright, sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm to the turmoil raging inside you. "You're okay. It��ll be alright." He attempted to console you as best as he could, however it wasn’t his strong suit.

But the tears continued to flow unabated, a testament to the fear and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You tried to hold them back, to maintain the facade of strength and resilience that had always been your shield against the world. But in that moment, with Dally standing before you, all of your defenses crumbled.

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you buried your face in your hands, the weight of the night crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You could feel the tremors wracking your body, the sobs tearing from your throat in ragged gasps.

Dally watched you carefully, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding. Without a bit of hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, pulling you close to his chest as if to shield you from the world's cruelties. His arms felt surprisingly comforting, a safe haven amidst the chaos that had engulfed you.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's okay to let it out," he whispered gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your storm. "You're safe now, darlin'. I've got you."

His words washed over you like a gentle wave, calming the storm of emotions raging inside you. For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace, to find solace in the warmth of his presence. As the tears continued to fall, Dally held you close, his grip firm yet gentle. He didn't try to offer empty reassurances or false promises. Instead, he simply held you, a silent pillar of strength in the darkness.

The Unexpected Thank You:

As the weight of the night's events settled upon your shoulders like a heavy cloak, you couldn't help but feel a wave of vulnerability wash over you. The adrenaline that had fueled you earlier now gave way to a profound sense of exhaustion, both physical and emotional. And in the quiet solitude of the street, with only Dally's presence beside you, you felt the walls you had carefully built around your heart begin to crumble.

"Thank you, Dallas," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a rawness you hadn't expected. "For everything."

Your words hung in the air, vulnerable and exposed, a stark contrast to the tough exterior you usually wore like armor. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, as if a weight had been lifted from your chest. For so long, you had been carrying the burden of your troubles alone, too afraid to let anyone else see the cracks in your facade. But with Dally standing beside you, offering a silent anchor in the storm, you found yourself finally able to let go.

When you looked into his eyes, you saw something flicker beneath the tough exterior, something vulnerable and achingly human. It was a mirror of your own inner turmoil, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and loneliness that lurked within you both. And in that shared moment of vulnerability, you realized that perhaps, just perhaps, you were more alike than you had ever dared to imagine.

As Dally enveloped you in his embrace for the second time that night, his arms offering solace and refuge, a tender silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sound of your quiet sobs. In that moment, words seemed inadequate to express the depth of the emotions coursing through you both. But as you held each other close, your hearts spoke volumes, weaving a silent symphony of understanding and compassion.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, you know," Dally murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear. "It's okay to let yourself feel, to let yourself grieve."

His words resonated deep within you, stirring a bittersweet ache in your chest. For so long, you had tried to bury your pain beneath layers of confidence and defiance, afraid to confront the gaping hole that your mother and fathers absence had left behind. But in Dally's embrace, you found the courage to face your demons, to confront the rawness of your grief without fear of judgment or rejection.

With trembling hands, you clung to him, seeking solace in the warmth of his presence. And as you spoke of your mother, of the memories that still lingered like ghosts in the corners of your mind, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you, as if by giving voice to your pain, you could finally set yourself free.

"I miss her, Dally. I miss them," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion. "Every day, it feels like a piece of me is missing. Like I'm lost without her. She was my best friend and now she’s just gone.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the relentless passage of time. And as you gazed into Dally's eyes, you saw your own pain reflected back at you, a shared understanding that transcended words.

"You're not alone, sweetheart," Dally replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I may not have all the answers, but I'll be damned if I let you face this alone."

In that moment, you felt a surge of gratitude and affection for the tough greaser who had stood by your side through thick and thin. In his arms, you found a sense of belonging you had never known, a sanctuary from the storm of emotions that raged within you.

In the hushed intimacy of your embrace, the turmoil within you quieted, replaced by a sense of tranquility you had never known. But amidst the stillness, a storm raged within you, a tempest of conflicting emotions that threatened to consume you.

With each steady heartbeat, you felt the tendrils of affection wrapping around your heart, weaving a tapestry of emotions you struggled to comprehend. The way his touch ignited a warmth deep within you, the way his voice soothed the turmoil of your soul — these were sensations you had never experienced before, and yet they felt undeniably right.

As you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you couldn't shake the realization that your feelings for Dally surpassed mere gratitude or admiration. It was something more, something you couldn't quite put into words but felt with every fiber of your being.

In the quiet of the night, you allowed yourself to explore these newfound emotions, to sift through the tangled mess of your thoughts and feelings. And in doing so, you came to a startling revelation — you liked him, more than you had ever dared to admit.

But the thought of confessing your feelings to Dally filled you with a heady mixture of excitement and trepidation. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if your friendship was forever altered by your admission? Yet, as you glanced up at him, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, you saw a vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored your own. Perhaps, you thought, he felt the same way — a silent understanding that transcended words.

Summoning your courage, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to do. With a trembling hand, you reached up to cup his cheek, your touch feather-light against his stubbled skin.

"Dally," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there's something I need to tell you."

As your eyes met, you sensed an unspoken understanding passing between you. Without needing further words, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. It was a tender gesture, filled with reassurance and affection, a silent promise of his unwavering support and care.

But before you could utter another word, Dally's hand gently tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours with a intensity that made your heart race.

"I need to tell you something too," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the soft night breeze.

Your breath caught in your throat as you waited, anticipation coursing through every fiber of your being.

"Doll," he continued, his voice husky with emotion, "I've been wanting to say this for a while now, but I ain't never found the right words. I reckon there’s no fancy way to put it, so I'll just say it straight."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before meeting your gaze once more.

"I love you," he confessed, his words hanging in the air like a sacred vow.

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, emotions swirling within you like a tempest. For so long, you had harbored these feelings, afraid to voice them, afraid of what they might mean for your friendship, for your future. But now, as those three simple words hung in the air between you, you felt as if a weight had been lifted from your chest, replaced by a warmth that radiated from the very core of your being.

You searched his eyes, seeking confirmation of the truth you dared to believe. And there, amidst the depths of his gaze, you found it — sincerity, vulnerability, and a love that mirrored your own. It was a revelation that left you breathless, a realization that this connection you shared transcended the boundaries of friendship, binding you together in a bond that felt unbreakable.

"I love you too, Dally," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, as if afraid that speaking the words aloud would make them disappear into the night.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still, the world fading into insignificance as you both basked in the sheer weight of those words. They held within them the promise of a future unknown, yet somehow certain in its inevitability. And as he pulled you into a tight embrace, you felt a sense of belonging wash over you, as if you had finally found your place in the world.

With his arms around you, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, no matter what storms threatened to tear you apart, you had each other. Together, you could weather any adversity, conquer any obstacle that stood in your path. For in each other's arms, you found strength, comfort, and a love that knew no bounds.

"Hey," he whispered softly, his breath tickling your ear as he held you close. "You don't have to say anything more. I'm here, and I ain't goin' nowhere."

For the first time in a while you felt a sense of peace wash over you, a profound gratitude for the man who stood by your side through thick and thin. With a heartfelt sigh, you nestled against him, finding solace in his presence as you stood together beneath the starlit sky. In his embrace, you found sanctuary, a refuge from the uncertainties of the world outside. And as you looked up at the twinkling stars above, you knew that your love would light the way through even the darkest of nights, guiding you towards a future filled with endless possibilities.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

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head-explode · 2 years ago

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Ah, nothing of the sort has conspired lately, just been takin’ a gander round this lovely region called Galar. And what of you?

so like. uh. anything fun happen with you guys today. (i need to interact more…)

#cracker.wav #pokemon #pokemon irl #pkmn #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #rotomblr #rotumblr #firecracker the clown #blacephalon

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dyns33 · 3 months ago

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The Best friend - part 3

Last of of Homelander and his lil bestie

If he'd asked Firecracker, Homelander knew she'd be forced to admit it was her fault.

The idiot had thought that using the purge and the stupidest members of the Seven would allow her to get rid of her rival without being worried.

Even if Y/N wasn't a rival. A rival meant being on the same level, having the same chances to achieve a result. But Y/N was far above Firecracker, who was nothing more than a milk-producing insect.

She was superior, even though she was human.

Homelander didn't like to think about it. This inconsistency in his life, when he hated humans, when he found them pathetic, weak, insignificant.

But not Y/N. Never Y/N. The only one who had always been there for him, who had never lied to him, who had never judged him. Since they'd been reunited, he'd been much happier.

When they were together, he was John again. No more need to play a ridiculous role, to act like a clown to entertain the audience in the hope of scoring points. Y/N's heart beat only for him.

Everyone should be relieved she was back in his life. Thanks to her, he felt calmer and more willing to accept mistakes without using his lasers to solve the problem once and for all.

Well, it didn't change his plan to dominate the country, but he would be a merciful and open-minded ruler with her by his side.

But no, Firecraker's jealousy had visibly fried the last of her remaining neurons, and with her most beautiful smile, she turned to Deep and Black Noir 2, asking them what to do with Y/N.

"What do you mean ?" Kevin had asked, his expression lost and scared. "She's Homelander's girlfriend, right ? We're not touching her."

"Yeah, she's not on the list."

"But he said we had to get rid of all the non-supers who knew our secrets. I guess that idiot Ashley forgot her name. I don't know, I'm just asking."

"… It's true he said that and Ashley is an idiot."

"But if we're wrong, he'll kill us," the fake Black Noir remarked rather intelligently.

"Or maybe it's a test."

Rather than take the time to think, which would have undoubtedly quickly allowed them to see that it was absolutely not a test nor a good idea to go after Y/N, they went to her room, where John had asked her not to leave during the purge. As if thinking it would change anything, they apologized before running toward her with their bats and knives.

If they had touched her, even a little, even without shedding a drop of blood, the world would have burned. Homelander would have left nothing, except maybe his son.

Humanity would probably never know how lucky it had been when Y/N disappeared in front of them, before they could reach her. Deep and Black Noir stood frozen in the middle of the room, uncomprehending.

They hesitated to tell their leader what had happened. Because on the one hand, it was admitting to the attempted murder, but at the same time, something else could have happened, something serious, and if they waited too long, the result would be the same.

"… Gone. What do you mean, gone ?"

"Well, as we told you, sir, she was there, and the next second, she was gone."

"That's impossible. Find her, now !"

With the pest control complete, it should have been easy to find Y/N. But several hours passed without any sign, no news, nothing to indicate what had happened to her.

Unable to do nothing, knowing he wouldn't get anywhere by relying on others, Homelander had scoured the entire city, using his vision to check every house, basement, hiding place, everywhere.

He was now sitting in his seat, holding his nose, as the idiots around him tried to reassure him with empty words, their hearts pounding with fear.

The moment he was about to break came, ready to cut them all in half, when there was a dull thud, and the doors opened.

"Sorry ! Sorry, I got lost, I ran as fast as I could to get back ! Teleportation is new, I'm not good at it !" Y/N trotted over to John as if everything was normal, placing a kiss on his cheek and apologizing again, before returning to her room with incredible calm.

Wordlessly, ignoring everything around him, he followed her.

"I don't really understand what happened," she said when he entered the room, finding her tidying up the furniture that had been knocked over. "Do you know what possessed them to attack me like that ? A mistake ? Maybe a…"

"How did you disappear ?"

It wasn't fear, no. Y/N wasn't afraid of him, she had never been afraid, and she had no reason to be afraid. But for the first time, she was nervous.

Refusing to look at him, she continued tidying up, apologizing and stammering theories about what had happened before she disappeared. But nothing about the disappearance.

"Y/N."

"I wish I could have gone faster to get home, I swear. Maybe I could have run on water, but I wasn't sure, so I flew for part of the way there, and I'm a terrible flyer, I don't know how you do it, and as soon as I arrived in San Andreas I started running again, and…"

"Fly ? You… You can fly too ?"

"… Sit down, please."

They hadn't discussed it because John hadn't thought it was possible, but Dr. Hobbes had thought he was being clever, smarter than his colleagues, by also trying to create the best superhero. So he had given Y/N some Compound V.

It was lucky for him he was dead, otherwise he would have received a visit from Homelander. He'd seen the effects, he knew the process was painful, not to mention the exercises the good doctor had decided to put the little girl through afterward. It wasn't on the level of his own, but it was still torture.

He knew why he hadn't mentioned it, but John didn't understand why Y/N hadn't said anything.

"At first, he was very disappointed because it didn't seem to have any effect, for a very long time. Then, after a trip to town, I discovered I could make objects move. It wasn't much, so he was still disappointed. And after another trip, I could change size."

"Your powers evolve ?"

"No, John. Not my powers. Those of other people, of the supers I meet and touch. I copy them. I don't remember when I learned teleportation, probably during the last big meeting where I shook a lot of hands. For running, it's A Train, and for flying…"

"… Me ? You stole my power ?" he asked, his voice betraying his fear.

"No ! No, I didn't steal anything ! I'm copying, and I'm not doing it on purpose, I swear ! I didn't mean to ! But if I want to prevent that from happening, I shouldn't touch the person. I'm sorry."

"But why didn't you tell me ?"

"I didn't want you to see me differently," she confessed, looking down. "I wanted us to be John and Y/N. I was afraid Vought would try to bring me into the Seven, and that you'd see me as a threat. I don't want fame or fortune, I just want to be with you."

He could have taken offense, saying he'd never felt threatened by her, but John was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, remembering what happened with Ryan.

Like his son, Y/N was younger, she could do everything he could do, but worse, she could do more—all the powers of the Seven and the other supers she'd met. If they had to choose a perfect superhero, who could rule them all, it would be her.

Except she didn't want that. She wanted to be with him. She could have it all, and she wanted it from him.

"Are you mad at me ?" she asked shyly, nervously playing with her fingers.

"No. Of course not. Just hurt that you didn't trust me."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Just… No more secrets."

"Oh."

Y/N pouted slightly, getting nervous again. She mumbled that she wasn't sure what he considered a secret or important. For her, having powers hadn't really been a big deal. She would have told him if he'd asked.

Not wanting to rush her, John simply placed a hand on her shoulder with a smile, saying that even if it was nothing, he wanted to know everything.

"Okay. I… I killed Doctor Hobbes."

"…"

"Are you mad now ?"

"I've never loved you more than I do right now," he sighed, kissing her.

He hadn't thought about it, but she could hear his heart, so she knew he wasn't lying to her. He had nothing to hide from her.

Together, they were completely happy and unstoppable.

Even if Y/N didn't want to be part of Vought or interfere with his work, she still resented them for what they'd done, even though it had allowed them to meet.

She still whispered to him to be wary of Sage, whose hand she'd shaken several times. He'd keep that advice in mind for the future.

#the boys #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander imagine #homelander fanfiction

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