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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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Neon Sticky Notes

prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.4k+

note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...

warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!

You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.

It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.

By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.

However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.

So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.

Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.

You had an idea.

When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"

"Yeah, all good."

"Sure? Sound outta breath."

"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."

He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."

"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."

"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."

"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.

You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.

The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!

Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!

Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.

Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!

You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.

Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.

When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.

This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.

Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.

Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!

Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.

Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!

Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!

Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!

Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!

Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.

Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!

Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!

Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!

And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully

Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.

The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..

Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!

And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!

Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.

The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.

You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.

"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.

"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.

He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"

"What'd you get?"

"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.

"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.

"Like it?"

"Are these... My hearts?"

He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."

"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"

He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."

"You'd still be Carmy."

"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."

"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."

"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."

You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.

Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.

You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.

Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."

Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.

Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.

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kotoku · 4 months ago

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the touden party with an innkeeper! reader

synopsis - The Touden party was not an unfamiliar name to you due to the gossip other parties shared amongst themselves about the siblings and their oddball group. However, you thought the gossip was a bit over dramatic, finding them to be quite the pleasant guests whenever they visited your inn.

Overtime, you got sucked into their stories from the dungeon floors and even heard how they prepped monster food. Although they weren’t the most normal party you have ever seen, you grew a tight bond with each party member.

pairings - laios x reader / chilchuck x reader / marcille x reader / senshi & reader / izutsumi & reader

warnings - characters may be ooc..

“You guys were able to eat living armor!? That’s so weird but cool!”

“I know right! You’d think they were inedible, but they actually have a type of mollusk in them!--”

“--I’ll make sure to bring some up next time so I can show you how we cooked it!”

“Really!? I look forward to tasting it!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ You grew curious of the leader of the Touden party, often finding yourself spending more time with him after dinner to talk about different things

✢ He was so full of personality that you couldn’t help but get drawn in to him– cooking his favorite meals, indulging in his monster facts, and helping him think of different ways some monsters could be cooked

✢ The stories he shared from his encounters in the dungeon often left you wondering, what would it be like if you were part of his party? (You would shake your head to rid of those thoughts, fully knowing that you would be useless if it came to fighting/supporting)

✢ When you heard of Falin’s disappearance and his ambitions, you were distraught yet worried for his well-being– what if he didn’t succeed?

✢ A small part of you wanted to discourage him from the idea, for what if it would be all for nothing? Yet, the larger part of you had hope that he could do it, so you offered your support for him and his party if it meant ensuring their well-being (before they head off)

✢ Considering that they usually spend weeks in the dungeon, you’d often daydream about the tall blond whenever you did your chores

✢ People would catch you lost in the clouds, so you’d quickly become embarrassed when someone would say something

✢ When the time comes for their expected return, you had already set up each room accordingly and prepared a meal for all of them

✢ At some point, when Laios returns, you’d leave a small note and a gift for the man confessing your feelings (he finds it on the bed and thought that you had forgotten it when cleaning it)

✢ Needless to say, Laios wouldn’t be able to look at you, face turning a pretty pink when he’s reminded of your feelings for him

✢ Of course, he expresses his own thoughts and emotions in his own way, so it’d take some time before he approaches you with a determined gleam in his eyes

✢ In his eyes, he believes that you would make a wonderful partner, your caring attitude making him feel all the more fuzzy

✢ Expect him to be spending a lot of time with you during his stays, as he knows that eventually he’ll have to return back to the dungeon depths

✢ At some point, Laios requests that he sleeps in your room during his stays, which you happily oblige

✢ Whenever he comes back from the dungeon, he always has a gift for you (whether it’s some sort of relic, flower/plant, or ingredient that you two could experiment with)

✢ Eventually, Laios would love to settle down with you after he has gotten his sister back

“My party members are all idiots, _____.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just look at them! sigh I’ll take another round of ale.”

“Ehh– they seem fine to me, but whatever you say, Chil.”

✤✤✤✤

✢ When you first met Chilchuck.. he was quite the hot-headed yet reliable person, always complaining about certain events that happened during their dungeon run (You hear a lot about his party members lol)

✢ Over time, you understood his behavior and could see that despite his mean words and actions, he really did care for his friends

✢ You really admired his stern yet caring nature, always scolding those closest to him with good intentions

✢ Chilchuck didn’t really give you much attention at first, only treating you with basic human decency

✢ But the more his party stayed at your inn, the more he began to make light conversations with you, slowly evolving into deep and meaningful discussions that would last into the early hours of the morning

✢ He starts appreciating your presence more and more with each visit, offering to help you make dinner, chatting with you as you both cleaned the dishes… It felt rather intimate, doing this domestic things with you

✢ When Chilchuck notices that he’s developing feelings for you, he’s overcome with fear and anxiety

✢ He wanted to avoid the potential heartbreak, for he knew all too well what it felt like when he and his wife divorced

✢ Despite his sudden distancing and coldness, you’d probably corner him one night to confront him about his recent behavior

✢ Chilchuck’s resolve would soon crumble, explaining his recent actions and confessing his feelings for you with a downcast gaze (He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate)

✢ To his surprise, you do!

✢ Chilchuck would definitely come around more often whenever he has the free time, helping you around the inn and recounting recent events that happened while they were exploring the deeper levels of the dungeon…

✢ You’re quite familiar with his alcoholism, always being there to take care of him when he’s had a little too much to drink…

✢ He can be quite clingy while drunk, so expect to be his body pillow for the next 8 hours

✢ When he plans to open up his shop, you’re there to support him while also taking care of the inn (Maybe the two could go hand in hand…)

“_____! I can’t wait to taste your cooking, it’ll be the first normal meal I’ve ever had in weeks!”

“I'm sure Senshi’s cooking makes the monster ingredients seem more digestible, Marci.”

“NO IT DOESN’T!!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ Marcille always made you chuckle to yourself at her expressive attitude, always openly displaying her dislike or favor towards something

✢ She was easy to read at times, her heart always on her sleeve

✢ She was a pleasant guest to have at your inn, always offering help when it seemed like you needed it but you could never put a guest to work

✢ Yet you always find yourself choked up, unable to say ‘no’ to her offers…

✢ You make sure that her room has things that you know she would like, her previous visits providing you experience

✢ Whenever Marcille comes back from the dungeon, she always pulls you into a hug and cries about how happy she is to eat your home cooked meals again

✢ When you both have free time, she is happy to recount the events from the dungeon and is willing to teach you simple spells (that may prove beneficial since you run the inn)

✢ If you were ever to accidentally nick yourself when cutting a vegetable (or get hurt in general), she’d be there to help cast a healing spell on you

✢ You take note of her motherly behavior, especially with the way she is around Izutsumi

✢ Compliment her, and you’ll get a bashful Marci who tries to play it off (but deep down she’s internally screaming)

✢ She’s never afraid to show you her affectionate and doting side, always picking up things from the dungeon floors to give to you

✢ She absolutely refuses to introduce you to monster food.

✢ If you were to confess your feelings for her one night after dinner, she’d sputter and almost let the plate slip out of her hand, catching it quickly so it doesn’t break into tiny pieces

✢ Eventually, she would recompose herself and give you her own thoughts and emotions, concluding it with a flustered glance and a smile

✢ She could almost feel her heart bursting out of her chest at your confession, feeling as if she were going to faint on the spot

✢ Nonetheless, she’s really happy and would always look forward to her return to the surface

“Welcome back! You brought the ingredients, Senshi?”

“Sure did, ready to start cookin’?”

“You bet!”

✤✤✤✤

✢ Senshi was such a pleasant surprise when he suddenly popped into your inn with the Touden party

✢ You’ve never seen the man before, but his amazing beard and mustache are enough to capture your eye (They look very fluffy!)

✢ You learn from him the adventures that the group had faced, as well as the different meals they had in the dungeon

✢ Hearing of the ingredients he used had left you fascinated, wondering just how he was able to make use of such.. exotic creatures

✢ You would honestly take notes as he explains, always butting in with your own questions which he’s happy to answer

✢ You always learn something new from him everyday.. hm…

✢ Despite you being a responsible adult, he would still see you as a youngin’, always making sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well (and not just your guests)

✢ The two of you slowly develop a fatherly relationship, with Senshi helping you cook, clean, and take care of his party members

✢ You’re truly grateful for his help but tell him that he doesn’t need to go through all the trouble, which he declines and continues about his business anyway

✢ If you wanted to try a specific monster, he’d happily cook it for you and the party one night at the inn

✢ Senshi admires your hard working spirit, always giving you his thanks and compliments

✢ He would rarely stay at the inn and instead stay within the dungeon, but he wouldn’t mind stopping by every now and then, especially with his party

✢ It’s always a joy having Senshi around, and he thinks the same for you

“How have you been, Izutsumi? Anything interesting in the dungeon?”

“..Nah, it was pretty lame for the most part… But at least I got into some action!”

“Hmm? Tell me more about it at dinner! I cooked your favorite.”

✤✤✤✤

✢ At first, Izutsumi was.. reclusive

✢ Always keeping to herself and only interacting with those if she needs to, but she was a bit different when it came to her party members

✢ You noticed how she seemed to have opened up to her fellow members, speaking her mind and becoming much more expressive

✢ She didn’t say much to you at first, but over time, she slowly began to warm up to you

✢ Despite her openly making conversation with you whenever she comes back from the dungeon (or whatever it is that she’s doing), she still keeps her distance just a bit

✢ You’re determined to get to know her, but you’ll never force her to do something she wouldn’t like

✢ You are aware of her table mannerisms and pickiness, yet you don’t mind, always finding a meal that she would enjoy

✢ Eventually her table mannerisms would get better with the help of you and her party members

✢ You never cared much for the fact that she was a beastkin, instead welcoming her with open arms to the inn when she first came

✢ Sometimes you would find her room a mess, some scratches lingering on the desk or drawers.. you’d give her a small scolding later

✢ Izutsumi honestly sees you as her mother/older sister figure, always doting and caring for her even if she didn’t want it (She’ll never tell you)

✢ At one point she probably called you ‘mom’ by accident, immediately running back to her room to hide away from you for the rest of the day until dinner comes around

✢ She has her walls built up around her but they eventually begin to crumble the more she talks with you over dinner or at night when she can’t sleep

✢ Depending on how she’s feeling, she’d be interested in your history and why you continue to manage this inn, seeing it as a boring job

✢ Izutsumi comes to understand you after a while, and eventually when she returns back to the surface, she finds herself anticipating your presence and meals

#writing➠#dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #laios touden x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #marcille donato x reader #senshi & reader #izutsumi & reader #senshi & izutsumi are platonic headcanons #laios/chilchuck/marcille are romantic headcanons #domestic fluff #teeny bit of angst #innkeeper! reader #x reader

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aestheticaltcow · 3 months ago

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No Phone Policy 4.0

Originally, this was going to be the final part, but my word count got up to about 3k, and it was a lot to process. I also like odd prime numbers, so maybe one more part after this or two... maybe three, but that feels ambitious.

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The Bear Masterlist

“Should we try to get him out of the house?” Syd whispered to Richie. He shook his head, “I don’t know what to do.” He felt defeated. Richie watched Mikey’s downward spiral. He tried to help him, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t watch the same thing happen to Carmy; he couldn’t lose Carmy, too.

“What the fuck should we do? I don’t know how he’s gonna react when she comes home with the baby.” Syd sighed as she anxiously chewed her lip. She’d seen how Carmy reacted to stress in the past, but she’d never seen him like this.

Carmy hadn’t slept since you’d kicked him out of the hospital room. He couldn’t remember what day of the week it was. He’d been meal-prepping all of your favorite dishes. He cleaned and sanitized every bottle, pacifier, and every part of your breast pump. He cleaned the entire house with a toothbrush and ensured the nursery was ready to go, and there was no dirty laundry. The house had never been this clean. He wasn’t eating and stunk of a cocktail of cooking oil, body odor, and bleach. Syd and Richie had been in your home for hours, but Carmy hadn’t acknowledged their existence.

“Yo, Cousin.” Richie’s voice boomed through the empty kitchen. Carmy looked up at im from the floor; he’d been on his knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, muttering incoherent nonsense. “Take a fuckin’ shower, Carmen. You fuckin’ stink.” Richie leaned against the counter and watched Carmy throw his scrub pad on the floor by his feet before he stood up and stormed out of the kitchen. He shoved past Sydney before trudging upstairs.

“What the fuck was that?” Syd’s eyebrows knit together as she confronted Richie in the kitchen. He shrugged, “I told him the truth.”

“Thanks for the ride, Natalie.” you grinned as she parked in the driveway. She nodded, “Come on, let’s get Wolf inside.”

Natalie helped you out of the car and grabbed your bag while you unclipped Wolf’s car seat from its base. “Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N? You’re more than welcome to stay—” You cut Natalie off with a passive affirmation about you being fine. Something in you told you going home with Wolf was a mistake, but you couldn’t avoid Carmy forever, no matter how much you wanted to…

Syd’s eyes lit up when she saw a sleeping Wolf in her car seat. “Oh my god—she’s so beautiful!” she attempted to hush her excited squealing. You grinned, “Thanks, Syd. Listen, I want you guys to swoon over my baby all day, but ya know… the elephant in the room and all…” you half-heartedly joked, trying not to cry when the thought of Carmy was brought to the forefront of your mind.

Reluctantly, Syd and Natalie left after a lot of convincing. Richie stood his ground as the women reluctantly left. “Richie, I’ll be okay.” you sighed as you unbuckled Wolf to pull her out of her car seat. He shook his head, “Look, Carmys scarin’ me. I just want to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” you nodded and held Wolf close to your chest as you slowly climbed the stairs, Richie hot on your trail.

Carmy was lying on the floor of the nursery. He closed his eyes and pushed a hand through his damp, messy curls. As footsteps approached the nursery, he perked up, turning his head to face the pale yellow door. “She’s eatin’ and shit, right?” he heard Richie’s voice echo through the hall. When Carmy heard your snicker, he rose to a sitting position. You came home.

“I’ll ask Tiff if she has any of Eva’s baby stuff- that shits fuckin’ expensive.” Richie offered as the two of you found your way to the master bedroom so you could set Wolf down in her bassinet. “Thank you, Richie. Any idea where Carmen went?” you anxiously asked as you carefully laid Wolf down. “He fuckin’ stunk, so hopefully, the lizard showered.” Richie laughed before turning his attention from you down to Wolf. Even sleeping, he could tell she would be a carbon copy of you, “She has Carmy’s eyes.” you said when you noticed how Richie was staring at Wolf. He grinned, “You did it, kid… by yourself.”

Before you could say anything else, you saw Carmy standing in the doorframe. You swallowed hard, suddenly nervous over the thought of actually talking to Carmy. The two of you looked at each other, and as much as you wanted to skin him for missing Wolf’s birth, he looked ill. As a tense silence fell over the room, Richie cleared his throat, catching both your and Carmy’s attention. “You know, I should probably head over to the restaurant. Let me know if you need anything, kid.” Richie said in your direction before turning his attention back to Wolf, “Bye, sweetie.”

Carmy moved to allow Richie out of the room, “Don’t be stupid.” he whispered as he exited. Carmy rolled his eyes and stared at you, taking in your appearance. You looked tired, your hair was in a bun, and you wore an oversized t-shirt with a pair of equally oversized sweatpants and sandals. He immediately noticed your engagement ring and wedding band were missing from your finger. “Are we okay?” he asked immediately, feeling stupid as the words left his mouth. You scoffed, “We’re absolutely not okay, Carmen. Bond with your daughter. I’m gonna take a shower.”

You pushed past Carmy and headed to the impeccably organized linen closet. Carmy watched as you plucked one of the larger black towels from the bottom shelf and one of your special hair towels before stomping to the guest bathroom.

Carmy stepped into the master bedroom and heard Wolf’s soft half-awake gurgles coming from the bassinet. He looked over it and saw her wrapped up in a tie-dye swaddle- most likely a gift from your Dad. “Hi baby, I’m your Daddy.” he carefully reached down and picked Wolf up. She squirmed as he cradled the baby in his arms before settling a chubby cheek against his chest. “I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for missin’ your birth, princess. I’m always gonna be there now. I promise.”

“Don’t touch me.” you snapped as you felt Carmy shift closer to you in bed that evening. “Y/N, it’s been a month-”

“Yeah, and I’m still pissed.” you cut him off with a huff making Wolf stir in her bassinet. “Go to sleep. It took forever to get Wolf down, and I don’t want to fight in front of her.” you pulled your blanket up to your chin as you scooted closer to the edge of the bed to get away from Carmy.

“Why the fuck did you name our daughter Wolf?” Carmy scoffed as he sat up in bed, frustrated. You ignored his criticism, which just made him more frustrated, “Will you fuckin’ talk to me?!”

You sighed and sat up in bed. You glared in Carmy’s direction, “Carmen. We’re not fighting in front of the baby.”

“Then fuckin’ talk to me!” Carmy got out of bed. He began pacing around the bed, anxious energy radiating from him like a nuclear explosion. You huffed as you scooped Wolf up. You’d known Carmy long enough to know he was about to explode. You got out of bed and pushed past Carmy to exit the bedroom, “Where the fuck are you goin’?” he yelled after you.

You ignored his yells as you entered the nursery to set Wolf down in her crib. After turning on the white noise machine on her bookcase, you exited the nursery to find Carmy standing in the doorway of the master bedroom. “If we’re going to talk, you need to talk. You yell at me; I’m ending the conversation,” you said matter-of-factly as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Carmy scoffed and brought his hand to scratch his nose, “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I missed the birth, okay? I can’t go back and change it, and I’m fuckin’ pissed off that you’re actin’ like a fuckin’ bitch about it. Okay! Accept my fuckin’ apology so we can go back to fuckin’ normal.”

You stared at him and took in his words, “You know what, Carm. I absolutely will NEVER accept your fuckin’ apology. You’ll never understand how scary it was to give birth alone. You’re a fucking failure as a father and husband. If I had the means, I woulda left your ass.” you spat at him.

Carmy’s face contorted in anger, “That’s the meanest shit you’ve ever fuckin’ said to me. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he watched as you crossed the hallway to go back into the bedroom. You pushed past him, making him turn on his heel. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you toward him, making you gasp, “Don’t fuckin’ ignore me. I’m fuckin’ sick of this shit.”

You tried to pull your wrist out of his grip, only for him to tighten his grip. “Carmen. You’re hurting me.” you winced as you brought your other hand up to push against his chest. He grabbed your other wrist and pulled you closer to him. “You’re not fuckin’ leavin’ me, okay?” Carmy hissed as he stared down at you. “Carmen, you’re scaring me…” your voice cracked slightly. Carmy huffed and dropped your wrists, “Let’s go back to bed.”

You watched Carmy walk to his side of the bed and slip under the covers. Cautiously, you went to your side and stiffly laid down. You flinched when you felt Carmy’s arms wrap around your waist. You swallowed softly and allowed him to pull you against his chest, “I love you. I’m not gonna miss anythin’ else, okay?” Carmy mumbled against your shoulder before softly kissing your exposed skin.

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eatommo · 6 months ago

Text

Hotshot [c.f.99]

CW: Poly!batchxreader, group sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (m&f recieving), double penetration, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, vaginal and anal creampie, multiple partners, cumshots, anal sex, ass eating, spanking, praise, authority kink, cucking? kinda?, implied recording of sex, mention of weapons, mentions of aftercare, overstimulation, post season 7 pre omega, dom/sub dynamics, allusions to subspace, slight degradation, shower sex, mutual pining lots of kissing, no clonecest, liberties for hunter's tattoo, reader has hair long enough to pull, reader gets picked up and carried, i probably missed something let me know!

A/N: 5.6k of pure smut, absolutely no plot here. All mistakes are mine, repost and let me know what/if you like <3

As you climb the steps to the Marauder, something about this mission feels different. It's been months since you've been away from the boys, and almost as long since you cared.

Since running away from the clutches of the empire and charming your way aboard the ship you've become an asset to the team even in just your companionship, but it was also nice to have someone around who wasn't a clone. It made it that much easier to do recon, and also that much easier to infiltrate a group because your face wasn't spread across every corner of the Empire.

However, the longer you stayed with them, the more you valued what made them different. You learned who to go to for help with blaster trouble, and even learned to overlook Crosshair’s slights during your target practice. You’ve also learned that Hunter was sensitive to flowers and strong scents and that he had the best-smelling soap aboard the ship (and never seemed to mind when you used it). Tech, on the other hand, was always great at making you feel included, but was always, always going to double-check anything you did to the ship ‘just in case.’ Echo might've been one of the most interesting people to talk to, during his work with the 501st and the glory days of working alongside some of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy he saw many planets and cultures that you had only dreamed about. Wrecker, well, he was a big softy despite his talent for demolitions and overall penchant for violence, he was the first to volunteer to take you out and stretch your legs in a nearby city and to help you bring home rations (and a sweet treat or two) for the rest of the crew, and has even carried you home from cantina trips a time or two.

They were closer than any other troop you'd seen, all depending and working so tightly and neatly together you'd think that adding you to the mix would complicate things but all you seemed to do was fit in like sand in the desert. You fell into a routine, they'd leave you at the ship during more dangerous jobs, typically with Echo or Tech at your side to assist with any repairs as you kept the inside of the ship in order, and kept a close eye on any equipment and prepping rations and meals as they became available.

After a stop on Batuu, in which you fought every urge to procure a Loth cat, instead letting Crosshair buy you a long thin vibroblade to appease you. “I haven't given up by the way.” You shout over your shoulder, as you settle into your seat before the others.

“I've thought so.” Tech, his voice more amused than anything. “Let us not berate the woman so that she uses that thing on us, shall we? We are cleared for takeoff.” Wrecker chuckles at the idea of you brandishing the thin blade to any of them. You could hold your own for sure, but you were no ARC trooper.

You settle aboard, staying seated until you reach the upper atmosphere, locking your cloak away with your blade, settling back into the seat near the cockpit, and resting your head against the wall.

“If you need rest, my bunk is open,” Wrecker whispers his words and his voice contradicting each other. He's gruff but his speech is soft like he's afraid to startle you, he's cleaning his blaster but leans forward to speak softly to you. “It's still the biggest bunk.” He smiles and with his helmet in his lap, you can see the intense scaring over the side of his head, and your fingers twitch at your side begging to caress it.

“I'm fine thank you.” You beam at him surprised by the crack in your voice and not wanting to seem ungrateful for the gesture. “I’m quite content out here.” Wrecker blushes, as if embarrassed he even brought it up.

You can hear the audible judgemental breath of Crosshair even from your position behind his back, as he examines his rifle, something amiss and there's a thick tension in the room you can't quite place. Glancing around as they settle in for take-off, none of them seem to want to meet your eyes.

“I didn't expect you all to get so shy, I thought maybe you were starting to warm up to me.” You let your voice trail off, a hint of a tease that cuts into the thick tension in the air for a brief moment. Before Hunter sharply stands up and lets his feet carry him towards you.

Last night’s mission for Rex was messier than any of you had expected and used up the last of your bacta supply. Hence the trip to Batuu, and what you thought was a tense conversation about purpose or authority between the group. You’d overheard something about keeping secrets when you’d greeted them at the ship’s ramp and the pinched nerve in Hunter’s jaw encouraged you to keep your mouth shut. Since the tension between each of them has been as taught and dangerous as a tightrope. As the long-haired clone approached you, you sat straighter, already apologizing for being difficult before he cut you off.

Leaning down until he is practically whispering in your ear, "We are programmed to be professional first and foremost. And we are not always so shy."

Just sharing your space with him has your body reacting to him, vibrating in both fear and a sneaking feeling of arousal. His breath is hot and you turn to look into his dark brown eyes, eyes you should be so familiar with. “I am not an officer, I do not bite, and there's no reason to be formal.” the sentence comes out as a squeak, and you try to hide embarrassment flashing through your cheeks.

He smiles, his voice dips lower but is so soft you swear you can feel his words caress your skin, “Easy hotshot, we might like a woman who bites.”

Oh, oh wow. We.

In an instant, everything and all your feelings about them shift and change. You spent the last few rotations convincing yourself it was normal to feel bubbly around them, they'd saved you, and they were providing for you. This feeling, the unmistakable pull of longing and need in the pit of your belly, would complicate things.

Hunter stands and departs the conversation with an ease you envy. You take a deep breath and compose yourself just to look up and see the rest of the crew watching you, like a wounded animal, you catch just a glimmer of a blush in Echo’s face.

Rex mentioned they were a tight-knit group he seemed shocked you fell in line with them, but hell you didn't expect this. Each of them is in their thoughts as you glance around the ship. Echo and Tech are busying themselves with the controls, but you can see Echo worrying his lip, and Tech turning his head to glance at you every few moments as if wondering what will happen first. Or rather who?

Crosshair stares at you, blankly like he's trying to read every line in your smile or every wrinkle in your clothes, your eyes click together and he smiles like a lothcat with a womprat in his teeth. “You're not intimidated by us?” It's almost as if he's as shocked as the fact itself, there's a cutting edge to the statement like you should be, and then a corner of his mouth turns up. “You like being here,” he tests the statement as if tasting the fact on his tongue, “with all of us.”

You smirk, doing your best to match the heat in his stare, “I am grateful. I've never felt so important or wanted,” you swallow thickly letting the heat in your body you know Hunter can sense, speak for itself, “At least, not yet.” You shift in your seat glancing up at Hunter who is glaring hungrily at your chest as if he could hear your heart leap in your chest with every passing moment.

You glance up to the stars ahead of the ship, Tech looks like he's preparing the ship to jump to light speed. The return mission, at its worst, should only take a few days and even less of that is travel, normally you're not one for long lightspeed trips but this time you wonder if it will be too short.

The way the crew looks at you makes your skin tingle, not sure if you’ve ever been paid this much attention before. As the ship lurches into hyperspace, you let your head lull back to catch Hunter's attention, peering up towards his face as your chin hovers just a foot away from his codpiece.

Doing your best to keep your breath even, a part of you wishes to stand and kiss him, but this time it’s your turn to feel shy. You stand, brushing your chest across Hunter’s’ and waltzing over to lean against the control panel of the ship and the two quieter clones on this ship.

The moment Tech realizes you’re moving towards him his posture is stuck straight, but Echo only leans slightly towards you as you pass your hand over his shoulder. Standing at the front of the ship has only allowed them all to stare at you, your heart skips a beat. You see Hunter’s eye twitch, he is reading you like a book.

“Well,” you speak slowly and eloquently, playing into their curiosity, “How should we pass the time?”

“Come here.” the room's attention snaps to Crosshair, whose red-hot gaze is marring into your skin. Silence falls over the craft as Crosshair lifts a hand and gestures toward his empty waiting lap. Slowly, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker turn again towards you but Hunter stays strong locked into some silent dialogue with his brother.

You feel as if it is entirely dangerous to cross the space between the two. Yet your feet carry you without worry, and neither of them breaks until their vision is obstructed by your body. You turn facing the softened expression in Hunter’s eyes, and slowly lower yourself onto Crosshair's lap.

Placing your hands on his knees to steady yourself, you lean back until your head is resting on his chest and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “Good girl.”

His whispers send shivers down your spine and Hunter sinks to his knees in front of you, as Cross removes your shirt from over your head and the rest of the Batch descends upon you like wolves.

As Hunter’s face presses against the softness of your hip, Tech's teeth graze your neck and Wrecker's hands smooth over your nipples, you're overwhelmed at their strength. These are battle-hardened soldiers, Crosshair runs a calloused finger down your spine, and you're reminded how soft you are. Your skin is plush and comforts all of Hunter’s senses as the boys proceed to lose themselves upon you, you're reminded of the comfort they provide for you, a safety net you never knew you craved and the appetite you never knew could become so hungry.

Your canvas pants are ripped down the leg by Wrecker and Hunter’s combined efforts, the sound almost drowned out by a collection of panting wanton noises, and the scraps hit the floor out of sight.

Hunter noses across the top of your panties, letting his breath fan over the sensitive skin of your pussy as you feel Cross shift his hips and push his hard cock into your ass. All of them are in full armor, save for the helmets, yet you lie strewn out before them slick pooling in your panties as they take turns pulling pleasure from your body like they serve no higher purpose.

It's Wrecker who pulls himself from his flight suit first, and you can't remember ever having such a physical reaction to something like this before. You reach out on instinct, fingers not wrapping completely around his girth and teasing the pink tip until it begins to leak into your palm. He towers over your head as whimpers and shudders wrack through his body as though he's never been touched.

You catch a glimpse of Echo, standing slightly off to the side, watching with his pupils fully dilated as he follows the path of Hunter’s mouth on your skin his face flush with crimson. Tilting your head back you turn towards Crosshair and give him a deep kiss, letting him lick into your mouth feverishly. Hunter’s fingers trace over your seam delicately over the thin fabric of your panties as they grow transparent with your desire.

Wrecker’s cock is thick and heavy in your hand, and you clench wantingly around nothing, his hips brush into your hand with a tenderness you long to experience. Crosshair snakes a hand up your chest and cradles the thin skin over your throat, chasing Tech’s glancing kisses away, but taking the opportunity to encourage you to grind your hips against his cock.

In a few mere movements, the men surrounding you have altered your state of mind and each passing touch coaxes you further into submission. Tech shifts and lets his breath ghost over your nipples, you turn your head and catch Hunter in a deep kiss noting how different he tastes and feels against you. You let your thumb swipe over the leaking tip of Wrecker's cock, and fight the urge to stuff your fingers in your mouth to taste.

Hunter breaks the kiss and steps away, letting Echo take his place between your legs but not before using his dagger to cut the hip of your undergarments and stuffing them into one of his pant pockets.

You blush at the obscenity of it all, but it quickly soothed away but the cool metal of Echo’s headpiece brushing over your thighs. Wordlessly Crosshair adjusts the seat so your pussy is presented to Echo, leaning more onto your back and looking up at the boys devouring your form.

His mouth is hot, licking softly over your clit as you relax with Crosshair stroking the pulse point in your neck. You’re slick with arousal and he doesn’t hesitate to lick it up teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

You writhe, letting yourself melt against him, fighting to stay concentrated enough to play with Wrecker’s balls tugging and rolling them beneath your fingers. Eager to pleasure every one of them.

Echo’s glove ghosts over your sex, teasing your entrance with a digit, the leather smoothly gliding over your skin. Hunter and Tech each take to stroking down your thighs and holding them in place, “Easy, meshla, we will take good care of you.”

Your mind is swimming, when did this start? Tech steps a hair closer to your face, tilting your jaw up with his free hand, and slips a finger past your lips. You suck lightly, sure to match the pace at which you’re stroking Wrecker. You get a praising hum, and Tech surprisingly is the second to drop his pants and pull himself free. Stroking himself to the rhythm of you teasing him with a curl of your tongue.

It's the tangled moan of you around Tech’s fingers that breaks Crosshair, his pants unbearably tight and each little movement of your hips making him clench his jaw to stave the noises that die in his throat. He lifts you to your feet, and removes his pants, letting himself spring free. You have to admit you expected the armor to be harder to take off.

You stand on unsteady feet, in an attempt to turn your head towards Crosshair, Hunter captures your chin in two fingers locking your eyes together. “Echo.” A chuckle reverberates between them, all seemingly on board with whatever plan this could be. Echo slides flat onto his back looking up at you and the rest of the boys. The realization is enough to make you shiver. Your pussy clenches, still empty, but a dripping mess sticks your thighs together. Hunter’s eyes are burning through your resolve, there’s an intensity you’d come to respect that now sends a spike of fear through you. “Sit.”

You go to protest but are quickly shut down and you look around at the men surrounding you eagerly but patiently waiting for you to follow his instructions. Swallowing thickly over the lump in your throat, you sink to your knees and hover a few inches from Echo’s waiting mouth. From your knees they tower above you, all but Hunter free from their confines. You get a good look at the three cocks, all weeping and swollen pink across their tip, beautifully complimenting the darker-tanned skin of their shaft.

Each of them was different, which only slightly surprises you, Wrecker being the thickest, but both Tech and Crosshair meet him in length. You can feel each breath from Echo’s mouth, knowing you're probably close to dripping across his chin. You lower slowly, afraid to hurt him, until he licks the seam of your entrance savoring the hot flesh and you seek his tongue sitting on his face in earnest. His mouth brings welcome waves of pleasure as he suckles on your clit.

They pump themselves slowly, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing with each shiver. You start to move your hips in small circles while reaching to palm over Crosshair’s balls and stroking up over his shaft squeezing a bead of precome from the tip. You open your mouth and glance between them, expecting to see some kind of hierarchy emerge but they take a half step toward you together.

You opt for taking Tech into your mouth, but only because he's in the middle, letting yourself drool around him as you suck on the thick knot of his cock head, before turning and spitting the excess saliva onto Crosshair’s cock coating it with slick to make your fist glide against him nice and quickly. Tightening around the base and working more of those beautiful precum drips from his leaking tip.

You snap back to Tech’s cock, tasting the sweat of his skin, and the desire for your body grows with each passing second as he throbs needfully in your mouth.

Echo is teasing your clit with calculated movements of his tongue, licking around it in sharp purposeful circles, and sucking on it every few passes. Enough to make your brain fuzz up each time his lips seal around you as Tech nudges the back of your throat to earn a gag.

You pull off him again, this time gathering the drool in your mouth to cover as much of Wrecker's cock as you physically can. His cock is so heavy it sways low on his hips thick and so hard your body is already aching for the sting that will accompany the stretch. You use the thick spit to pump him slower, allowing yourself a moment to admire what has to be the largest you'll ever get the chance to worship.

The slick sounds are broken with an “Atta girl.” in the shape of a deep growl from Wrecker’s chest. He reaches and gathers some drool from your chin and brushes it over your lip and you open instinctively, just as Echo uses his tongue to prod at your entrance. His praise is as wholesome as his affection for you.

Hunter has taken a seat across from the rest of you, watching as if analyzing each movement of your legs as they quiver from the ravenous pleasure and your throat tightens around the length of Crosshair's shaft. His thin fingers find purchase at the back of your neck, urging you to sputter around him and the sick squelch just barely audible beneath your moans.

Echo swiftly plunges two fingers into your pussy, crooking them and stroking deliciously at your g-spot and forcing you to pull yourself away from Crosshair to let your head drop as you fight for composure. “Let yourself enjoy it little one. It won’t be your last.” Cross takes the tip of his cock and taps the tip to your tongue.

You swear, body humming and teetering on the edge before losing yourself to one hellishly explosive orgasm. It shocks you, body shaking and toes curling against the cool floor as your body burns in the aftershocks Echo works you through it with some tentative kisses to your entrance, and he encourages you to sit up so he can slide out from under you.

So much of the room is spinning you don’t notice Tech sitting in front of you until you’re kissing him. His tongue finds yours in a syrupy sweet and methodical kiss as you fight to catch your breath. Wrecker moves behind you, running his rough hands down your back and palming the flesh of your ass, striking it with a loud slap.

Tech swallows your gasp, pinching your nipples and pulling them as Wrecker bends you at the waist until you’re scrambling to your hands and knees sucking Tech into your mouth with a compliant and satisfied hum.

Hunter speaks up, “Turn around.” The trance is broken for the briefest of seconds, and you don't have time to think before they’re turning you so you’re faced with Wrecker’s huge cock and Tech teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. The passive command that Hunter has over all of you gives you goosebumps, his authority even stronger than the ache they share for you.

You sink to your elbows, propping your ass up on display and practically begging for Tech to fuck you, pushing back onto the head of his cock, all while blinking away tears as Wrecker’s size makes your jaw ache. The larger man splays his hand across the back of your head, inciting your thick moans as you work as much of him as you can fit.

Tech’s hips pitch forward and he’s splitting you open in one fluid deep thrust until your ass is nestled against his hips and he grunts at the eager squeeze of your sex around him. You work your hips in sync with your head the drag of his cock along your walls is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. He shifts from both knees to one, allowing a deeper thrust to kiss your cervix with a hiss of pain-laced pleasure. He sets a pace, hips meeting yours in synchronous harmony, and the three of you get lost in each other's pleasure.

You’re briefly aware of Crosshair stroking himself above you and Hunter is still watching with bated breath as you service his brothers, wondering if you’ll let each of them have a turn or if they’ll need to give you a break.

Tech snakes a hand around to press a firm thumb against your clit, and a rush of fluid hits the floor of the cargo space that permeates his senses. The sickly sweet smell of your release coats his tongue and he chokes the head of his cock through his clothes to stop him from cumming before he even gets to touch you.

Your vision is white, and you’re vaguely aware of the spend running down your thighs. When Tech pulls himself free with a grunt you feel the hot ropes of his cum on your back you whine, feeling ashamed that you long for him to finish inside of you. You clench around nothing and sit up to look at Wrecker who brushes a hair out of your face. You kiss him, softly at first, unsure of his comfort with the taste of his precome in your mouth, but he growls and lifts you by your waist, licking into your mouth as he helps you hover over his cock.

You take advantage of the break, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking the weight off your knees in favor of straddling him. Even in his lap, you’re looking up at him. Letting gravity do some of the work, you adjust to let him prod at your entrance and sink slowly onto him, the slick warmth of your pussy a welcome substitute for your pretty mouth.

His chest rumbles beneath yours, groaning as your pussy flutters around him. You kiss him through a grimace, “Take your time.” He whispers against your mouth, low enough you’re not sure the others hear him. Heart swelling at the compassion, you let him slowly rock his hips against you, easing his way into your heat and keeping his hands splayed across your hips to support you.

It’s a slow process, each inch accompanied by breathless and muffled moans followed by kisses and words of endearment. “You can take it mesh’la.” You’re nearly there, body so in tune with his every word you nearly forgot your showmanship.

Crosshair is to your right, one hand gripping the base of his cock as precome dribbles and hangs just out of reach from your eager tongue, muttering something in a language you don’t understand.

You swear you can feel the throb of Wrecker inside of you, and he presses his mouth to your forehead as he pistons his hips slowly angling your body in a way so that he’s moving you along his shaft effortlessly.

Breathless and spent, you let him. Being filled by him is almost overwhelming, each push and pull feeling like he's going to split you in half. He mumbles and groans into your hairline, speaking nonsense in between bitten-off praise. When his fingers find your clit you all but cry, shaking your head in protest, “Please- I can't.”

It's Hunter that answers your cries, “You can.” His voice hoarse with need and restraint, “Be a good girl.” Your brow furrows, in concentration, tossing your head back in near agony at the overstimulation.

Wrecker leans forward and presses his mouth to the column of your throat sucking on the thin skin and leaving a pink welt in his wake. You feel as if you could explode, not able to hear the sounds of your screams as you shudder and writhe under his touch, against his skin and your body falls slack with the overwhelming pleasure.

He lifts his face and you catch a pleased smile, like a loth-wolf with its prey in its teeth. As he throbs and fucks his spend deep into your core. They all see the muted smile tug at the corner of your mouth as Wrecker cums inside you.

He holds you for a moment, kissing over the reddish blemish on your throat and waiting for you to make eye contact with him before slipping free with a tangled whimper from both of you.

Wrecker wraps your legs around him and stands on sturdy legs, you cling to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder hyperaware of the wetness between your thighs. He sets you on Hunter's lap, in your euphoria, he’s lost his pants and sits still in a pair of soft cotton underwear, stark black against his tanned abdomen. It’s now that you notice his tattoo, so familiar with the portion on his face you never notice how the tattoo bleeds across the entire left side of his body.

The lines are both clean and elegant, highlighting the rich flawless tone of his figure. Gorgeously broad shoulders with rippling cords of muscles supporting your cheek as you rest your head lazily and admire him. Placing a lingering and exhausted kiss to the stretch of skin between his shoulder and neck and relishing the warmth of him against your sweat-soaked skin, in the extra cold air of a ship in hyperspace.

He runs his fingers through your hair, scratching lightly and working every line of tension out of you over a few minutes. You distantly hear the sound of the fresher’s shower being turned on. Crosshair is gone, and you fear a pang of regret and pity.

Your breath is coming easier by the time, Hunter carries you towards the sound of the water. Crosshair meets you both under the water’s spray refreshing your senses and soothing the ache of your muscles. You get settled on your feet between them, legs feeling like they’re made of sand, Hunter’s body is pressed tightly to your back, anchoring and steadying you as you greet Crosshair with an inviting kiss.

He welcomes your touch, all but overtaking your space completely as you get pressed between the two of them and lost to the feeling of their bodies against yours, Hunter nestled into the small of your back and Crosshair’s cock leaking and purple with need against your belly.

The steam only adds to the dreamlike quality of it all, tendrils wafting off the ground and highlighting the sight of your ass pressed against him. Hunter doesn’t want to hurt you, but each passing second without fucking you is making him lose his sanity. As if he might just sink into the floor with the weight of his need crushing him entirely.

He nibbles at your earlobe, earning a low whine from your chest. You tilt your head in invitation for his affection, kissing up the column of your neck and tasting the water on your skin tangled with the smell of his brothers. He makes eye contact with Crosshair, and they communicate silently as they spin you around and switch roles.

Hunter licking into your mouth and letting his hand run down to your hip and pull you to him. Expecting the press of Crosshair to your back, you’re startled when you feel the graze of his teeth on your ass. His palms run over the smooth skin, kneading the flesh and watching it move in response to his touch.

Crosshair splays a hand on the small of your back, urging you to lean forward. You glance over your shoulder as he spreads you open and licks a stripe across your asshole. The feeling sends a shiver down your spine, you hear a chuckle as he presses the pad of his thumb into you and watches you with a hungry stare.

Hunter distracts you, kissing you slowly and running his hands soothingly down your back as Crosshair preps you to take him until he’s working two fingers in and out of you and sucking a bruise into your hip to match the one adorning your throat.

You nibble on Hunter’s lip, and bury your hands into his hair, tugging at the root living for the whimpers you get out of him. Crosshair kisses his way up your spine, standing straight, and this time you see them. There’s a small nod of agreement and both of them turn their full attention to you, “You gonna let us fuck you cyar’ika?”

Without hesitation, you nod. You’re not able to explain, how you were able to wrap your arms around Hunter as he hoisted you up his waist and you sank down onto his length. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the way he demanded your submission through the tone of his voice. No, you thought, it was the way he sounded like he was begging you, he commanded your attention but the way he used his authority had you believing that you, and what he asked of you, was the most important thing in the galaxy. You wanted nothing more than to give him everything he asked for and more.

They give you a moment, Hunter biting his lip as your cunt squeezes him like you haven’t already come three times already. You throw an arm around Crosshair’s neck opening your legs just enough for him to slot himself against you and slowly push into you with the cant of his hips.

He goes incredibly slow, sawing his hips back and forth and relishing in the feeling of Hunter’s cock also nestled deep inside you making you impossibly tighter and the friction of your walls against him.

It feels like too much, pain and pleasure mixing in an enchanting cocktail of stimulation, yet still the familiar tug of an orgasm stirs in your belly. You suppress a sob at the idea of coming for a fourth time around the both of them. They hush you, nuzzling against you and pressing righteous and thankful kisses to your skin, “Look at you, pretty girl.” Crosshair’s voice is so low and drawn out that it takes every last shred of your concentration to hear what he’s saying, “You look so good taking everything we give you.”

The inflection acts like a highlight reel, your body remembering along with your brain the feeling of being the center of attention during your first orgasm. The complexity of your second. The white-hot stretch of Wrecker using and worshipping your body filling you to the brim during the aftershocks of your third. Hunter whispers against the shell of your ear, “Good girl.” Reading the signs of your body and feeling the crest of your orgasm build around him, and pulling you over the edge with his praise.

He presses his forehead to yours as he follows close behind, senses overwhelmed and fighting the bend to his knees as they buckle with the intensity of his climax.

Crosshair pumps into you from behind, lifting one of your legs slightly and changing the angle so he can thrust deeper grinding into you, and urging you to lean more heavily on him to keep the three of you from collapsing as he stills and spills into you.

The three of you pant in silence, ragged breath lost in the noise of the water hitting the metal floor of the fresher, you wordlessly separate. The endorphins running through your bloodstream turn your muscles' pain into a blissful ache you never want to forget.

#polybatch #poly!badbatchxreader #poly x reader #the bad batch x you #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #the bad batch spoilers #clone force 99 #the bad batch #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb #star wars fanfiction #star wars #mandoa #no clonecest

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mealbetixlifestyle · 1 year ago

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#clean eating meal prep ideas #high protein vegan meal prep #easy meal prep

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honeytonedhottie · 10 months ago

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the tea on self love⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍵

the most important relationship that you're ever going to have during your lifetime is the relationship with yourself. its the longest relationship that you'll ever be in, therefore its crucial to make this relationship flourish.

first understand ; love is unconditional. theres no such thing as conditional love, if its conditional then it is NOT love. that means regardless of past mistakes, your love for yourself is still there and its still strong. the love for yourself is the only love that will always be there. because people change and they come and go, but you're with yourself ALL hours of the day, and forEVER.

because people change, you cannot rely on the love of others all of the time. the love that u feel for urself shouldn't decrease just because your surrounded by individuals who love you a lot. if anything ur self love should grow, but never shrink.

its easy to grow dependent on the love from others, your friends, family, partner.. but the truth of the matter is, if ur self love isnt solid and grounded then when that person inevitably changes or grows or leaves ur life, then you perception of self love will crumble.

practicing self love ; start asking yourself "how i feel today" or "what do i need/want today" be more conscious of urself and ur feelings, just as you would if u were being thoughtful and considerate to a friend or partner that you loved.

do not EVER speak badly about yourself. even in a "joking" manner. bcuz guess what, ur brain can't tell the difference between when ur joking and when ur being serious. your words have power!! the same love and support that u provide to ur friends when they've made a mistake is the same, if not more, support and love that u should give urself when u make mistakes.

often times we beat ourselves up over mistakes that we make but thats not healthy at ALL. make ur mind a peaceful, beautiful, and safe place to be, where u can cultivate ideas and growth. instead of a place where ur walking on eggshells all of the time bcuz ur scared of imperfection.

make a promise to yourself that regardless of how u feel or what happened in ur life, that you won't talk badly about yourself. only tell yourself good things!!

be conscious of how you treat urself ; are you considerate enough of ur own health or well being? if the answer is no, then what are you even doing? treat urself with tender love and care. if you feel tired, sleep. if you feel hungry, eat. if you long for something, give it to yourself. dont deny yourself anything and please please look after yourself.

ways to show yourself love depending on ur love language ; if u dont know ur love language, take this quiz ✨ and find out.

if ur love language is physical touch...

try yoga

take a bubble bath

buy a weighted blanket or one of those pregnancy pillows

if ur love language is receiving gifts...

go on solo trips

investing in yourself

buying gifts for urself when u go out

if ur love language is words of affirmation...

practice gratitude

practice saying ur affirmations out loud to urself

give yourself compliments

if ur love language is acts of service...

practicing self care

meal prepping meals that u know u love to eat

clean and organize ur space

if ur love language is quality time...

go for a relaxing walk

start journalling

try meditation

have some quiet time and replenish yourself, take a long nap, do whatever u need to do to show yourself that YOU LOVE YOU, bcuz u should 🫶🏽

the mindset of someone who loves themselves ;

"im going to give my body the best that i can possibly manage"

"my body is a temple, so im going to treat it as such"

"im going to be conscious of what i say and think to myself about myself, and only feed myself good thoughts"

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respectthepetty · 2 months ago

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Let me be crass - We are in the seventh episode of Sugar Dog Life and much like Blue Boy Isumi, Amasawa is giving ME blue balls!

How oblivious can Amasawa truly be to the very obvious fact that Isumi is attracted to him?! Is he faking this?! Is he just pretending he doesn't notice?! Because HE HAS TO NOTICE! RIGHT?!

But then again, he doesn't pick up on Isumi's not-so-subtle attempts to figure out what to get him for his birthday. And he did say he needs a new duster, so for being a cop, Amasawa really is lacking in observations skills and apparently style as well.

So I get the pleasure of witnessing Blue Boy Isumi struggle to come up with the perfect gift to get his laid-back lad.

And, boy, is Isumi so darn adorable about it!

He looks up ideas and asks his friends.

Then he gets to what he does best! He decides to make a pancake cake!

Because as much as he and I want, Amasawa is too unaware of his OWN feelings to devour Isumi like the delicious snack he is!

So Isumi gets to designing the actual dessert Amasawa will eat for his birthday.

And stays up late prepping and practicing . . . for the cake. THE CAKE!

He is bright and blue as he gears up for the big day while he finalizes his surprise plan.

So, of course, when the day arrives, he is the bluest. He is the brightest. He is the prepared-est most prepared!

He has the bright yellow and blue ball . . . decorations!

He gets to blowing . . . up the balloons!

And he serves the treat on a blue dish.

Which is the cake! THE CAKE!

Cherries on top?! SIR! *looks Isumi directly in his eyes because I know*

But then Amasawa decides to bring up a family he has never mentioned before and spends his birthday with them instead because he is a good guy who doesn't realize he has a whole meal at home, and I'm not talking about the food!

However, Amasawa surprises Isumi and me by having keen observation skills (that he seems to be lacking in every other way when it counts) and recognized that Isumi was not at a party like he thought from what Isumi's friends had told him and because Isumi sounded sad, Amasawa rushed home.

So they hang the balls, blow the balloons, and get ready to feast . . .

ON THE CAKE?! For eff's sake! What is this?!

God, just kiss already!

But instead of doing that or acknowledging the tension brewing between them as they continue to live together, Amasawa fingers cream off of Isumi's mouth and sucks the tip clean with his mouth causing Isumi's brain and mine to stop working.

So thank goodness Isumi can move back into his place next episode which hopefully means this thirty-one year old oblivious idiot will realize Isumi doesn't just want to fill the hole in his stomach.

He also wants to fill the hole in his heart! Get your mind out of the gutter!

But after all this teasing, Isumi better finally get some release next episode. Put your mind back in the gutter.

GIVE ME MY SCENE!

#sugar dog life #japanese bl #the colors mean things #color coded boys in love #episode seven #give me my scene next week or I riot!#WE deserve it!

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i520u · 1 year ago

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invisible string ʚĭɞೃ⟡

HIII i’m so sorry this took me so long i just didn’t wanna be unemployed after i’m done with my series so i decided to keep this in the drafts for a while 😞 i hope you’ll like this!

PAIRING sung hanbin x gn!reader

GENRE fluff, sfw

MASTERLIST

hanbin is a responsible bf, so you can definitely let loose when you’re around him!

he will always makes you feel safe

when you go out on dates with him, he would always silently take your handbag off of your shoulder and carry them himself 😞

his nicknames for you are usually the common ones, baby, my baby, angel, and i think he’d most commonly use 내 사랑 (nae sarang/my love) because it’s so endearing to give your s/o a nickname in your own mother tongue am i right

but he prefers calling you by your name, bc he thinks your name is already pretty

constantly complimenting you

you get your work done and he’s like “good job baby” and then he’d kiss your cheek

you finish mopping the floors and he’s like “you worked so hard today my love, thank you”

the type of boyfriend that will give you legitimate answers to your “would you still love me if i was a worm?” questions

one time you asked him what he would do if you turned into a snail one day

and he told you he’d have to build you nice house where you would be comfortable living in

drives your around ALL the time

he would freak out if you offered him gas money because he really doesn’t mind spending his time, energy, and money with you :(

if you gave him a $10 cash he would applepay you $15

i think hanbin is a great cook, so eating out is very rare for you both because he’s always cooking up a meal for the both of you

if you don’t like a certain taste (sour, salty, sweet, etc) he’d make sure to alter the recipe a little so you’d both be able to enjoy the meal together

hanbin would be cutting up some vegetables, and then you’d come up to him and ask for a kiss, and he would gladly give you a quick kiss before resuming with the meal prep

conflicts with him rarely ever happens

he’s so good at communicating, and he’s just so gentle there’s really nothing to be mad about with him

he trusts you, and he feels secure in the relationship so he never really asks you about your whereabouts. you’re free to hangout with anyone!

all of your friends loves hanbin. he treats you so well, and he’s so polite and can mix around with them, so he’s practically in your friend group too

when you DO get into fights with hanbin, the fight never lasts longer than 2 days. he either apologises first if he realised that he’s in the wrong, or he’ll talk to you and explain why he felt like he was wronged

plus, even when the two of you are fighting, he’d still cook you a good dinner, and you’d still help him clean up all the things he used to make the meal 😭

also on nights where you both had heated arguments, if the situation was okay, he would still wrap his arms around you while you sleep

hanbin never go all out for anniversaries though

rather than fancy dinner date or a big gesture to show his love, it’s more domestic and meaningful

hanbin prefers celebrating your anniversaries together with things like giving you a photobook of all the moments that you’ve spent together

of course he’d buy you a gift too, but his main idea of anniversaries are more domestic

one time he rearranged your house and made a candlelight dinner all by himself for your anniversary, candles, silk tablecloth, fancy steak, he did that all by himself

whenever you get sick, he’d feel bad leaving you alone while he goes to work but duty calls!!!

he would make you text him and update him every 3 hours so that he knows you’re eating well and taking your medicines on time

when HE’S sick he tells you not to worry about him and then he would get flustered when he finds out that you cooked him some healthy soupy foods for him to eat

he thinks you’re so cute when you’re worried over him getting a stupid little cold

when he gets better he would give you so many kisses and cooing at how cute you were when you were taking care of him

honestly he’s always kissing you somewhere, or you’re always kissing him somewhere, it doesn’t matter. he loves kisses

when you say something funny he would laugh and then bring your hand to his lips for no reason?? when you ask him why he’s just like “you’re so funny i just had to kiss you”

when you’re showing him the new top you just bought and then he would just pull you in to kiss the top of your head bc why not

when you kiss him first his ears will go red

he would even be like “why’d you do that”

when you say you just wanted to kiss him he’d giggle and would call you adorable

“my partner is so adorable today, i wonder what’s got into them?”

#zb1 #zerobaseone #hanbin #sung hanbin #zb1 hanbin x reader #hanbin x reader #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin imagines #hanbin imagines #zb1 hanbin imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone hanbin #zb1 hanbin #hanbin scenarios #sung hanbin scenarios #zb1 hanbin scenarios

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wardenparker · 8 days ago

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In the Still of the Night, ch 2

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Just more shameless flirting, a bit of self-consciousness, first date nerves and anxiety. Summary: Zach flirts with a specially cooked meal, you flirt with some specially chosen songs, and embarking on your first date brings a lot of shared nerves to overcome. Notes: It never takes me too long to fall in love with these new pairs but I just *adore* Zach and his soulmate so damn much.

Ch 1

If you take a little extra time and care in getting ready for your show the next night, who can blame you? A purple velvet gown and black satin gloves, shimmering rhinestone jewelry, red lipstick and your hair just so — you can tell yourself it’s all for the gig but the butterflies in your stomach know better. It’s because you’re excited to see Zach, even if you’re a little nervous too. Last night had been fun, and you hope that even in the harsh light of day that he thinks so too.

Zach couldn’t sleep last night. He was tired but then again, so energized by the entire night he had spent with you. Already on his third coffee by the time the prep cooks had come in from the breakfast shift – it was his off day from that – he had cleaned up from the night before and completely changed his idea for the specials of the night. All with you in mind.

“We should do something special tonight.” Is the suggestion you give to the band while you’re warming up, only to receive skeptical looks from three of the four guys.

“Special how?” Keo asks, twirling his drumsticks. It’s a habit, one formed before he could really walk since his father was also a drummer.

“Maybe a theme night?” The guys will bust you to no end if you admit that all you want to sing is love songs, but it’s true.

Shane is the only one that starts grinning, having witnessed the nearly moony, floating on air attitude of his roommate when he came back to the cabin last night. Or rather this morning. “How about some love songs?” He suggests slyly.

Working hard to sound nonchalant always backfires in the end, but you shrug (a little too performatively) and aim for a breezy tone when you agree. “Oh! Sure. Sure— I mean, if that sounds good to you guys.”

“Anything in mind?” Shane probes, seeing right through your little casual agreement and wondering how well the night went. You and Zach were in the kitchen for a long time.

“We could do some classics?” Waving one hand and pretending to think of things if the cuff, you’re determined not to admit you’ve had a few songs cycling through your head all day. “Maybe some Cole Porter? ‘Let’s Do It’ and ‘Let’s Misbehave’ always go over well.”

“Only if we add ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’.” Shane adds. “Diana loves it and I’ll send her the video tonight.” All the performances are recorded by the sound and lights crew for internal use and promotion reels for the supper club. She sometimes gets the videos of nights Shane is super proud of.

“Of course.” You’re quick to agree, mostly because it’s a song you all do well but also because you like Shane’s soulmate a lot. Diana is a badass and a sweetheart all at once.

“Sound good to you guys?” They will all add their own songs to the playlist before the night is over.

“That works.” Cliff is preoccupied with selling a new reed in his sax and shrugs. “Love songs usually get us better tips.”

“Then we will focus on the love songs.” Shane agrees. “Wonder what the chef is making for tonight? Hopefully something rich and sinful.”

“No clue.” You breeze right by the question as if you and Zach hadn’t talked about your favorite foods last night. As if you aren’t hoping just a little bit that he is thinking of you as much as you are of him.

“Hey chef.” Zach’s right-hand man, his sous chef, looks puzzled as he stares at the pans of cakes cooling on the stainless steel counters. “What’s all this?” Zach looks up from the sauce that he is simmering on the stove and beams. “Red velvet cake for the dessert tonight.”

"Hell of a left turn from ice cream." His sous chef observes, looking out at the seemingly endless counter of edible red sponge.

“Fits the rest of the menu.” Zach agrees. “I’ve changed all of it.” He waves towards the paper sitting on the table. “Tell me what you think.”

The menu written out on the wipe board is completely different than what was set out earlier in the week. In place of the popular shrimp scampi or chicken cordon bleu are the far more sumptuous options of a seafood stuffed salmon with cream sauce or a filet with a beurre blanc. The kitchen's traditional spinach salad has been scrapped for a strawberry balsamic salad instead, and the broccoli rabe or roasted potato options are now grilled asparagus or honey whipped carrots. It's a beautiful menu, for sure. But... "What prompted the change?"

Zach grins as he looks at the younger man. He’s handsome and already engaged to his soulmate back in his home country. “I was inspired.” Zach admits shamelessly. “Romance. This is a menu for romance.” He tells him. “I want the guests to be seduced by their meal.”

"Oh yes?" The younger man laughs, immediately dropping his towel on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest as he leans in that same place. "There is a lady?"

“No.” Zach shakes his head. “An angel.” He’s being completely ridiculous, but he can’t help it. He was asked out. On a date. By the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen in his life. If that wasn’t inspiring, he doesn’t know what would be.

"Ooh la la!" The saucier, standing not two steps away, hears the seemingly magic words and perks up. "Only an angel? Not a goddess?" She teases. Zach might drive the staff hard but he is a good boss and well liked in his kitchen.

“Not quite yet.” Zach huffs and tries not to blush like a school boy.

"It's not a passenger, is it?" The kitchen is now buzzing with the gossip.

Zach’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. He’s heard of some crew risking their jobs for liaisons with passengers but he wouldn’t be willing to risk his future like that. “Absolutely not.” He huffs, appropriately horrified.

“Boss wouldn’t be that stupid.” Zach’s saucier defends.

He’s a little placated that they don’t believe he would do that. “But the point is, I want tonight to be special for our guests.” He bites his lip. “Check with the sommelier and see what wine and cocktail pairings we can come up with please?”

“On it!” Comes a call from a few feet away, and one of his staff that was just watching her hands disappears around the corner to track the sommelier down in his office.

Zach smiles, happy his staff works as a cohesive unit and can handle the occasional curve ball thrown their way.

They can always hear it in the kitchen when the band starts warming up. They may not have a speaker but the strains of music from the dining room are unmistakable regardless of being faint. Zach's sous chef has just about turned around to go back to work when he hears it and clocks the grin on his boss's face. "Oh damn."

“What?” He asks innocently, turning back to his sauce and trying to wipe the grin off his face, but it’s impossible.

"It's her, isn't it?" Nobody's missed the extra attention Zach pays to the singer of the club's band whenever she's performing, or the way he always wants to know if she liked her dinner, or the way he hums to himself a little along with the music. The last one they're not even sure he realizes he's doing, but they've all heard it.

“Let’s just focus on dinner.” He’s not avoiding the conversation, but maybe your feelings have changed since last night or the date you asked him on never materializes or goes horribly. This could fizzle out and then he will be stuck mooning over you and all his staff will know it.

Family meal is the same on a cruise ship, but plates of the dinner that is being served to the passengers always go out to the band when their warmups are over. Yesterday’s kerfluffle with one of the waitresses having an emergency and missing family meal isn’t repeated today and the plating of what will do out to the band is extremely intentional.

“This plate is to have both specials.” Zach instructs before he takes the plate himself. “Never mind, I will do it myself.”

His staff only exchanges smirks as Zach plates an exquisite dish with portions of each thing, and a tray is loaded with dishes to bring out to one of the tables in the dining room for the band to eat before service begins for the night.

Zach argues with himself about taking you the plate personally, but he had settled for marking it and giving clear instructions that that particular plate be given to you. He bites his lip as he wonders if you will like it before he inevitably has to get back to work.

The tray that comes out of the kitchen is laden down with heavy plates, and while you always love the smells coming out of the kitchen at the club they seem even better tonight.

“Oh yum.” Keo is the first to put eyes on the tray coming out of the kitchen, but only because you were forcing yourself to wait three settings before looking to see if it’s Zach bringing it your dinner.

It’s a disappointment when it’s not.

Rachel, a perky and charming Filipina, with a smile to match, comes to being your food. She makes a big show of the plates for the rest of the band, but she huffs and shoos them away when they approach your chaffer covered plate. “It’s special!” She huffs before bringing it over to you. “Zach said this plate was yours and yours alone.” She tells you with a wink. “Enjoy.”

"That's either ominous or adorable." Shane observes, watching you fluster and try not to giggle as you uncover your plate. "What the hell did you guys do last night?"

"It wasn't like that." You huff, rolling your eyes at him as you remove the cloche over your plate. But a second later you gasp and press one open hand to your chest in shock. "Oh...oh my god..." He did it...he actually did it... You think, absolutely astonished.

According to you, surf and turf is your dream meal, but you are bored by it just being shrimp and steak or steak and lobster. Stuffed salmon being a thing of beauty in your eyes and you had complained about mashed potatoes always being served with it. So Zach had worked his magic and come up with this menu especially for you.

"Rachel?" You hold the waitress up for just one second, with a beaming smile plastered across your face. "Will you please tell him it's perfect?" With your voice gone soft and dreamy, it probably makes the point all the more deeply. "And I can't wait to have every last bite."

“Dessert is under the other cloche.” She points out with a grin, happy to report back to the kitchen that you are just as enamored with Zach as he is with you.

With all four of your bandmates staring at you expectantly as Rachel walks away, you can pout for about three seconds but you're not going to be able to enjoy your meal without explaining yourself. "He asked me what my favorite meal was. My dream meal. And...I love surf and turf, but it's always the same old thing, ya know? And...he went and reinvented the whole thing." It's the most romantic thing you can possibly think of, honestly, to see the hard work and creative thought that he put into something you told him in the dead of night. He put a little piece of his soul into this meal and he did it just for you. It makes you want to run right back into that kitchen and find out if he kisses as thoroughly as he cooks.

“So…he just…whipped up your dream meal and you are gagging to sing love songs?” Shane whistles low. “You two have it bad!” He pumps his fist happily. “I knew it was a good idea to send you into that kitchen with his drink.”

"Shut up." It was an amazing idea, but you're not going to give the man who has become your adoptive big brother that much credit. It will go to his head. For now you just roll your eyes at him and pick up your fork. All four of them are looking at you expectantly though, and you pick up the first bite of stuffed salmon while throwing all of them a slightly guilty look. "I asked him out, okay? He's more than just ridiculously hot and incredibly talented."

The four men start to cheer, high five-ing each other because they know that is a huge step for you. “Good for you.” Rick tells you. “You deserve a little happiness.”

"Keep your fingers crossed for me that it goes well," you insist, pointing a finger at all four of them. Your tendency to accidentally tank first dates is well documented.

“Just don’t— uh, do you things.” Shane supplies unhelpfully with a grin.

“What the hell does that mean?” You huff, scrunching your nose at him.

“Well, how about you not pour scalding hot coffee on his crotch?” Shane suggests with a wince.

“Or not tell him you would make cute babies together.” Cliff adds.

“Those are two fucking extremes.” Keo snorts, apparently enjoying this impromptu roast.

“But she’s done them!” Shane cackles, shaking his head.

“And I was right both times.” You assert, though you’re still huffing a little for good measure. “The jackass who told me ‘singers are just modern prostitutes’ more than deserved scalding coffee on his crotch, and the sweet Midwestern guy would have made cute as hell babies.”

“Well, I’m sure if you tell Zach that you’d make cute babies together, the boy would probably combust.” Keo snorts. “He seems a little pent up, right Shane?”

Shane rolls his eyes. “He’s not hitting on passengers like your dumbass.” He reminds the other band member. “But Zach’s a good dude, he’s got his history, but I would never have encouraged our girl’s crush if I thought he wouldn’t be good for her.”

“Everybody has history,” you reason, though at the same time you entertain such a serious thought, you’re practically bouncing in your seat from how amazing this dinner is.

“I can’t throw stones, that’s for damn sure.” Shane isn’t sure how much Zach has told you, but it’s not his place to tell his story.

“Nobody can, man.” Cliff agrees. He and Shane go back far enough that he knows the other man’s demons well. And shares some of them, too. “Everybody gets a second chance around here. Sometimes a fourth or fifth chance.”

“Little boat of dreamers”. Cliff agrees, although the ship is far from little. Not as big as some of the mega cruise liners, she can still accommodate two thousand passengers.

"I'll drink to that," you agree, picking up your water glass in salute.

“So, what’s for dessert?” Shane asks, smirking slightly.

"Let's see." After a sip of water, you put your glass aside again and open the smaller cloche that the waitress had put int front of you. The slice of red velvet cake you reveal is immaculate with no colors bleeding between layers and a gleaming cream cheese icing gluing together moist red sponges. It looks like something out of a cookbook or a competition food show. It looks absolutely stunning.

And more than that, your expression softens instantly. "Red velvet is my favorite cake..." you admit quietly, flustered all over again.

Shane whistles, waggling his eye brows. “What did you do to that man last night?” He teases. “It musta been good good.”

"Nothing!" Even though you insist it, you can see the skepticism in your bandmates. "I swear, we didn't even kiss or anything! We just flirted a bunch and I asked him out. That's it."

“Didn’t even kiss.” Rick snorts. “Then that man has you up on a pedestal so high you can reach the fuckin’ moon, sister.”

******

You knew the night of love songs would go over well, but the reception you get from guests is truly exceptional tonight. People are responding with such enthusiasm that some are getting up to dance when they've finished eating. The rendition of 'Let's Do It' that your band does is upbeat and hopeful. People are moving in their seats and some are dancing, but everyone is enjoying themselves – but those aren't the reactions that mean the most to you tonight.

The man standing by the kitchen door is the one you've been looking out for tonight, and you flash a bright smile in Zach's direction when you manage to catch his eye.

This is for you in one simple smile.

Zach is utterly taken by you. The way you sway gracefully to the beat of the music and make every audience member think you are singing to them. He wants to believe you are singing to him, and his stomach erupts into a swarm of butterflies when you smile at him.

It’s a bright song, joyful and optimistic, and easy to get caught up in. When the final chord comes you’re nearly giggling with the floating sense of delight that dances across the music, and with Zach still standing by the kitchen door, you look back to the band. Shane gives you a nod and an affectionate eye roll because he knows exactly what you’re up to, but you don’t care. It’s halfway through the set anyway.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to take a short break,” you announce, and turn to pick up your water glass before hopping off stage to stride back toward the corner of the dining room.

Zach straightens up when he sees you walking towards him. Looking like vision, like one of those damsels in the gangster movies that were so popular when his grandpa was alive.

Confident right up until the last stride when you get nervous and end up grinning awkwardly. “Hey,” murmur, feeling silly all of a sudden.

“Hi.” He smiles at you and lifts a brow in admiration. “You have the entire crowd eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“They’re not the ones I care about,” you admit, though it feels awkward to say. When you’re up in front of them, the guests are everything. But…not tonight. “Dinner was incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I was hoping you got to eat while it was hot.” He won’t admit that he was waiting to hear what you thought, because that should be obvious.

“Rachel brought it with very strict instructions.” Which you still think was cute as hell. A little thought goes such a very long way. “It was absolutely perfect. Thank you. Really.”

“Wanted you to have something you enjoyed.” He knows that you enjoy his meals, but this one was specially for you. “Took a look at my schedule.”

“Yeah?” Excitement makes your heart jump up into your throat.

“Yeah.” He shuffles slightly. “I’ve got the overnight port day next week.“ One port of call is all day and overnight, not departing until the next morning to give the passengers a chance to experience the nightlife.

“Me too.” Your head studied your schedule and memorized it so you could actually fix this date, and knowing instantly makes it so worthwhile. “Want to go traipsing around an old palace in Crete with me?”

“Is that what you want to do?” He asks, knowing he will be happy to spend any time doing anything with you. “I think we are allowed to book some of the tours.”

“I looked up what the excursions were,” you admit, wondering if that sounds too cringey somehow. That you were so excited you just had to look it up. “You know…in case we were able to go? It’s the tour of the old palace and an olive oil maker. I thought both sounded like fun, so whatever you want to do.”

“Olive oil?” That immediately piques his interest and he grins. “The olive oil we can get here is soooo much better than the shit in the states.” He chuckles.

“Why don’t we do both, then?” Being surprised that Zach is interested in something food related is like being surprised the sun has risen, but you don’t mind. It would be fun to learn something with him. “And maybe we can get lunch in between? Our first date would be a whole day but that sounds nice to me.”

“Only if you let me buy you lunch.” Being able to pay for things is one of his biggest joys and one of the things that he is proudest of. Especially now that he’s learned to adapt his food insecurity from his time on the streets into something that brings him in a steady paycheck and joy.

“If you insist.” You’re not above enjoying a treat, but since you did ask him, you’ll take care of all the arrangements and any other costs. That only seems fair.

“Zach.” The door behind him swings open. “There’s a request for another main course.” He turns around and nods before looking back at you. “Break a leg, sweetheart.” He grins. “That’s what you say right? Never understood it. Your legs are too pretty to break.”

“What, these old things?” It’s just a little joke to go along with the flattery, but to pull up the skirt of your dress just enough to show a little of one calf and toss him the biggest, flirtiest wink. “Go knock ‘em dead, chef.”

“You are wicked.” He snorts, smirking back at you and nodding before he disappears back into the kitchen, that brief glimpse of skin almost too enticing.

******

The week goes by at nearly a crawl. Every night has repeats of this one, where Zach makes stunning meals and you sing deeply pointed songs. By the time the morning of your excursion-date finally arrives, River is rolling her eyes at you and practically shoving you out the door of the room you share because she's sick of hearing you giggle at your phone at all hours. Texting Zach has become a serious habit.

‘Meet me at the gangway’ is the text that flashes across his screen, making him grab his wallet, his sunglasses and move to put on more deodorant. Crew can get off the ship ten minutes before the passengers, so you had both agreed to start the day off as early as possible. “See ya!” He calls to Shane who is still in the shower.

"Don't desecrate any monuments!" Shane calls back, figuring Zach probably hasn't heard him. The kid has had such tunnel vision about this day that he doesn't think anything could penetrate his skull long enough to deter him from meeting you. Which is sweet, actually. It's nice to see his friends excited. "Have fun!"

The door is already slamming shut and Zach makes a beeline for the stairs. Khaki shorts, a plain white t-shirt that is brand new and comfortable sneakers is what he has ultimately decided on. Plain but decent.

You're up on deck checking your purse for the fourth time when you catch sight of him coming your way, and it's a good damn thing that you're wearing sunglasses so he can't see you ogling him from fifteen yards away. You're glad you didn't dress up too much when you see him -- the same basic outfit of sneakers, shorts, and a shirt works for both of you -- but what's plain on him lets his natural good looks shine through and heads are turning as he walks your way.

“Hey.” Zach lights up when he sees you. You look amazing in a pair of black shorts and red shirt, both of you having the same idea of comfort over high fashion. “You look amazing.”

"You're not too bad yourself." Instinct has you moving to give him a hug, and even though it's the first time you've done that it seems to be welcome.

You smell incredible. Thats the first thing that he’s thinking as he holds you against his own body for far too brief a moment before you are pulling away. “All set?” He asks. “Have to admit I’ve been looking forward to this.”

"I have been, too." He's even more fit that he looks if that brief hug is any indication, and your damn mind if going to be wandering the whole day now that you know that. "We're all set. I even got a few recommendations of places for lunch from River. She's been through here before."

“That’s good, I’ve been researching this port every night to find out all I can.” He wants to offer to hold something as you dig your crew card out of your purse, but he doesn’t.

It takes a second but you manage it, and before too long you're on your way. The deep instinct to reach out and hold his hand is already there but you don't want to seem pushy, so you settle for walking side by side until the urge is mutual.

“It’s a gorgeous day.” Zach observes, blinking against the bright light after coming off the ship. You’ve been scanned out and you don’t have to be back on board until thirty minutes before departure tomorrow morning. Although you’ll probably both be back on board well before then. “I was hoping for clear skies.”

"If it stays like this, we can walk everywhere and spend time sitting out on the beach." It's been a week of daydreaming about every romantic scenario you could think of, and sitting with him on the crystal clear beaches overlooking the ocean as the sun went down was very high up on the list.

He flashes you a quick smile. “That sounds good.” He agrees, although he’s had plenty of days where he’s spent time sitting and staring out at the horizon for very different reasons than a day with a beautiful lady.

A whole day off together is a hell of a first date. As much as you have been looking forward to it you're also a little nervous. You can't remember the last time you went on a good first date and you've realized this week that this crush you have on Zach is big and deep and could easily become so much more. Just thinking about it makes you more nervous, which unintentionally makes you quieter.

“So- uh, I’m -“ Zach trips over his words until he snorts at himself and looks over at you with a rueful grin. “I’m nervous as hell.” He admits.

For a second your eyes widen in surprise, then you burst out into a moment of relieved giggles that you can barely smother. "Oh, thank god," you manage through the laughter. "I felt like an idiot being nervous when we see each other every day, but if it's both of us? That's so much better."

Zach snorts, chuckling himself and shaking his head at the two of you. Both of you sweating bullets over this date. “Well now we have to relax.” He tells you.

“Sure, sure.” The most serious nods of your head you can summon still end up punctuated by a laugh. “Because forced relaxation always works.”

He hums. “Yeah, that’s about the time I’ll trip over my shoelaces and push you into the ocean.” He jokes. “Or some of the dumbest, most random and horrifying shit will pop out of my mouth and I will have to quit my job and move to the moon to make sure I never accidentally run into you again.”

“Well, I’m a very strong swimmer and I promise I say dumb shit too. All the time.” By the time the two of you are off the ship with both feet firmly in the island, you offer Zach a self-deprecating shrug. “I’m in my own head because of some shit the guys said. I just…really like you. So I don’t want to fuck this up by accident.”

“What did they say?” Zach’s shoulders instantly tense and even though you just said you didn’t want to fuck this up, his mind races as he wonders if Shane has told you about his past. His stomach twists in the anticipation of rejection when you ask if he was really homeless.

“Not to be so me.” You roll your eyes. “I have a tendency to make my mind up about people pretty quickly and don’t mind voicing it. Shane, like the surrogate big brother he is, told me to try to chill the fuck out.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He frowns. “Having good people instincts is a good self-preservation skill.” He snorts.

“That’s what I think!” And it’s a fucking relief to be agreed with, if you’re honest. “But apparently pouring hot coffee on people who act like assholes is bad manners.”

He barks out a laugh. “Nahhhhh.” He shakes his head. “People don’t get corrected anymore on their behavior and it’s sad.”

“I could not agree more.” You’re both laughing, letting the tension and the nerves melt away. “I just…I guess first dates are hard for everyone.”

“This is my first date in….a long time.” Zach admits, sliding his hands in his pockets to cover up how his shoulders automatically inch up in self-consciousness. “So I won’t be judging you at all.”

“Well I count myself very lucky that you said yes, then.” To your way of thinking, there is no way that Zach lacks options. He must just be picky. And if that’s the case then you’re even happier that he agreed to this.

He chuckles and his hand comes out of his pocket, making him roll his eyes at his own little tells and he offers you his hand. “So we don’t trip and fall unless it’s together?” He offers playfully.

“Sounds perfect.” It’s almost silly to think, as you fit your hand into his, that that may very well have already started to happen. And you can’t help wondering if it has for him too.

******

It takes about an hour to meet up with your tour group and get loaded up on the buses to the ruins. Some of the other tourists are from the ship, but there’s a sense of anonymity that you are enjoying and Zach smile as you pull out your phone for pictures.

With your hand still tucked in his, you walk through the ancient ruins of the palace and practically sigh, imagining the lives that must have been lived in these halls. Talking about the songs sung, the food eaten, the stories told for hundreds of years. It had the air of a dream, one that swirls around you and seems to pull you closer at every turn.

“You just get this feeling, don’t you?” Zach asks in awe. “The history of this place. It’s seeped into the stones, into the dirt under our feet.”

“It’s everywhere.” And you hold his hand a little tighter, like the excitement is making you giddy but that’s actually mostly him.” Like how many other couples have walked this specific hallway, ya know?”

“Forbidden lovers, newlyweds, fights of passion, declarations of love.” Zach hums.

Something inside you makes you beam, and you laugh again softly. “First dates?”

“I’m not sure?” He chuckles. “Did they have first dates back then? I can’t imagine too many people choose Crete as a first date.”

“Well that’s a shame.” You frown, looking directly at him rather than all around you. “The view is great.”

“Agree completely.” He squeezes your hand gently. “Best view in the house.”

“I’m glad…” Even shrugging slightly, you can feel tie cheeks heating up for at least the third time today. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m cheesy. Or…that you at least accept it.”

“I’m not lactose intolerant.” He teases. “Cheese is one of my favorite things.”

“Oh, so you might actually be worse than me.” That is a delightful surprise, making you lean in closer to his side as you walk along the halls.

“Easier to be cheesy than giving into depression and anger.” He tells you honestly. “I have at least one thing to be grateful for every day.”

"That is a remarkably healthy outlook," you agree, admittedly impressed with the focus of it. Shane has hinted that Zach has some demons in his past but not revealed any of them. "I have to give you a lot of credit. I wasn't nearly that positive when shit was hard."

Zach shrugs. “I’ve been as low as I could possibly get.” He admits. “Everything looks up from there.”

"Everything might not be coming up roses, but at least things are getting better." They are for you, too. Hopefully, at least. You were in a pretty rough place when you and the band took this cruise ship gig and going back to dry land is something you're dreading. But that isn't a thought to dwell on. Not today. So instead, you change the subject. "Do you like flowers?"

“I do.” He nods, grinning and shrugging again. “They are pretty and smell good.” He squeezes your hand. “Like you.”

Maybe he is just as cheesy as you, you think, but you don't mind at all. Instead you're both grinning again as you make your way around another corner in the ruins of Knossos Palace. For once, there is a small amount of privacy and shade. The beating sun is lovely and bright, but also very warm. "Tell me something." The of your nerves isn't a mystery. You've caught yourself looking at his lips for the thousandth time this week and wondering if they feel half as soft as they look. You have to shake it off though, and not be so goddamn pushy. You don't have to kiss on the first date. There's no rule about it. Even if you really fucking want to, he might not. And you like him enough to be okay waiting. So you stick to that subject change hard. "Anything at all."

There’s so much he can tell you, so much he has to tell you if you make it past this first date. But he doesn’t want to make things too heavy. “I hate beets.” He tells you seriously.

Maybe you shouldn't be surprised that it's food oriented, but the vehemence of his answer takes you aback and makes you laugh all at once. "Okay. Beets are the enemy. Got it." Have you ever even eaten a beet before? Could you pick one out of a line up? Who knows. But they're the enemy now.

Zach grins along with you and starts to swing your arms between you lightly. “What about you? What deep dark secrets can you reveal on the first date?”

"Deep dark secrets, huh?" Pretending to think for a long moment, you hem and haw dramatically before you break down into a giggle again. It's nothing groundbreaking, though you debate actually telling him something serious. This doesn't seem like the time for that. At least not to you. "I hate sleeping in more than underwear," you admit, biting back a grin.

He nearly stumbles over the gravel, choking out a cough. Eyes wide and he gives you an almost comical look. “I— fuck!” He huffs. “I’m supposed to just sit on that?”

That grin you were holding on to blossoms wide and mischievous, and you can't help but feel just a tiny bit pleased with yourself for getting a big reaction out of him. "Well, ideally?" You tilt your head, aiming that grin at him. "I would be sitting on you."

“Oh god.” He grunts, closing his eyes and mouthing a small prayer. “Jesus.”

"Too much?" It feels like it might have been, and you can just hear Shane's voice in your head telling you that he told you so. "I—um—sorry. I just...forget I said anything."

“No.” He squeezes your hand in his as you try to pull away. “No, I can’t forget that, I just—” He opens his eyes and swallows. “I’m trying to be a gentleman and not be saluting everyone that walks by us.”

"I'll reel it in," you promise, though now you can see the flush of pinkish-red going all the way from his forehead down to his cheeks and throat and disappearing under his t-shirt. It just makes you a little desperate to know if he blushes all the way down to his chest or not. "But...you're still cute when you blush."

“I am?” He was so sure that you would be either amused or annoyed that he would react like that. He arches a brow in surprise.

“I have never told you anything but the truth.” And you plan to keep to that. If you actually want to consider this more than just a possible fling, it’s mandatory.

“I guess that I’m cute when I’m embarrassed.” Zach snorts. “And you’re pretty when you’re being mean.” He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

“How am I being mean?” Sure you’re teasing him. That’s undeniable. But it’s not like you’re dangling a carrot in front of his face that you never intend on letting him devour.

He cuts his eyes before he rolls them. “You are funny.” He snorts.

“I know I tease.” You’re not completely blind to your own behavior. “But I guess it’s not ‘toned down’ to tell you that coming on too strong and scaring people away is a very me thing to do. Which just makes Shane right. And he can never know that.”

“I don’t mind it at all.” He promises. “I just— I want to make sure that I don’t make a fool of myself.” He believes that this is going to be intense, and yet he wants to make it perfect. “I have a lot of respect for you.”

"I have a lot of respect for you, too." In the plethora of people you have dated, that is such an unexpected thing for him to say that you actually stand up a little straighter. "But I think...being emotional and vulnerable...making a fool of yourself is inevitable at some point, isn't it? Maybe that's why I tend to do it with such reckless abandon."

“I don’t know if you could ever be a fool.” He argues. “You wear your heart on your dress.” He tells you. “That’s why your audiences love you so much. It’s you on that stage beneath the hair and makeup and fancy dresses.”

"I'm...also wearing my heart on my sleeve right now," you point out gently. "And am kind of making a fool of myself in the process. But that's okay. It's just part of being human."

Oh. Zach stops, turning to face you right at the entrance to the ancient courtyard. The pillars standing guard as he searches your face for a moment before he is cupping your cheek. “Then I’m a fool too.” He promises, leaning in to press his lips gently to yours like he’s imagined doing all morning.

The little sound of relief and pleasure you make might have been embarrassing if anyone nearby had paid attention, but you also don't care at all. Zach's broad form bends when he leans in and blots out the sun even before your eyes fall shut. He doesn't push too deep and it doesn't last more than a few seconds, but you can feel something inside you start to glow when Zach kisses you. Like he found a light switch that you never knew wasn't flipped to the right position.

When you pull away, Zach is smiling, feeling the way you melted against him. “That was…amazing.” He hums quietly.

“I couldn’t agree more.” You sound dreamy and soft, but since you feel dreamy and soft it seems appropriate.

He leans in and kisses you once more, this time even quicker than before. “Then let’s be fools together.”

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Zach Wellison #Zach Wellison x female reader #Zach Wellison x you #Zach Wellison x f!reader #Brothers & Sisters #Shane Dio Morrissey #Shane Dio Morrissey x female OC #NYPD Blue #soulmate au #Soulmate Sunday #cruise ship au #first date #first kiss

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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago

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my thing is I'm capable of any of this stuff up to at least level 3 and can do them for special occasions and if I've rested enough no problem, but I can't do it OFTEN because it just uses up too many spoons. any thoughts on this? besides practice, I already cook as often as I can (which is not very)

Mise en place your life as much as possible. I've talked about this before but this is what I do to make things easier on myself. My baking station with all the ingredients out and clearly labeled instead of at the bottom of the pantry where I have to dig for them makes it much, much, much easier to bake. My knife strip on the wall and the dozen cutting boards in a rack on the wall and the frying pan that lives on the stove instead of under the counter all make it much easier for me to cook.

Like, a lot of what I've been going through and doing in terms of home improvement/home decor is attempting to configure the house in such a way that large bastard and i can easily do the things we want to/need to do. We need batteries all the time, so the batteries live in an organized box where we can see it instead of in the back of the cabinet. We also need to *discard* batteries all the time, so the battery discard tub is right next to that box otherwise we'll start accumulating used batteries on surfaces.

The instruments that live on my kitchen counter are the ones that get used most often so that I don't need to go looking for them and so that I know at a glance if they're clean (if so they're in the canister on the counter) or need to be washed. The appliances that I use the most either live on the counter or get put places where it's convenient - I don't have enough bowls and plates that I need to use the top three shelves of my cabinet for bowls and plates like my parents did, but I do use my rice cooker twice a week so my rice cooker lives in the same cabinet as my dishes (as does my tofu press, my waffle maker, and the easiest-to-use 16oz food storage containers).

And you know what sometimes i just can't do it. Sometimes my back isn't working or my hip isn't working or i got glutened recently and I can't do much of anything.

I've got a variety of low spoon foods that I always have ingredients for (one recent addition to this list is tofu; i went from eating no tofu to eating tofu twice a week because two days a week i can't really use one of my arms to make dinner so i just prep the tofu at lunchtime and when i get home from the plasma center all i have to do is season and pan fry it and make a pot of rice. And I also make a shitload of extra rice because rice with eggs and sweet-spicy sauce is now one of my easiest and best go-to lunches) and whenever I make a pot of soup (something that I do pretty much every weekend when it's cool enough) I will make enough for lunch that week plus usually some extra to go in the freezer as backup "I don't feel like cooking" meals.

So, yeah I guess what I'm saying is get a good list of low-spoon foods that you like and can keep the ingredients handy for (ground beef goes bad in a week, tofu lasts like a month, i love tofu, it's so easy and so cheap to keep a bunch of tofu handy), and throw out the idea of what a kitchen is "supposed" to be like and figure out if there are ways to make your kitchen more adaptive for you.

Get anti-fatigue mats for your home kitchen. Get a tall stool that you can sit at while cooking at the stove instead of standing. Reorganize your cabinets for maximum efficiency for your needs. (large bastard and I have been doing this both with organized visible storage like wall racks as well as putting his stuff up high because bending over isn't easy for him but it is easy for me).

And also, like, consider if it's worth it, or how it can be worth it. How do you want to be a better cook? Do you want to be better at making meals for large groups or do you want to be more comfortable cooking for yourself or do you want a wider repertoire of recipes - all of those things will take a different path and some will be harder than others if you're wrangling disabilities that make it difficult to cook. I'm probably never going to be great at cooking for large groups because it doesn't really suit my lifestyle and it hurts! It hurts a lot and after hosting thanksgiving last year i needed to use my cane for a week because of how much it hurt my back! But I can work on stuff that makes it easier for me to cook, like having my baking station or keeping my rice cooker in an easy-to-reach cabinet.

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kat-thepoet · 3 months ago

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Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Part 17: Finding my place

A/N: if you are reading this, say hi. Enjoy!

Previous chapters ☞ HERE ☜

5.1k words

After my nap that was very much needed, selene gave me a tour of the place. She led me through the sanctuary, her footsteps light but purposeful as we navigated the maze of pathways and structures that made up this hidden world. The first stop on the tour was the dining hall, a large, open space filled with long wooden tables and benches. The room was simple but functional, with the scent of freshly cooked food lingering in the air. A few mutants were scattered around, eating quietly or talking in low voices, their expressions a mix of weariness and determination.

"This is the dining hall," Selene explained, her tone matter-of-fact. "It's where we all gather for meals. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served here, and everyone is expected to pitch in when it's their turn."

I nodded, taking in the space. It was different from the sterile, isolated environment I'd been living in at the X-Mansion. This place felt more... lived in. Like a community, albeit one that was built on survival.

Next, we moved on to the kitchen, which was located just off the dining hall. The kitchen was a bustling hub of activity, with several mutants working together to prepare the next meal. Pots and pans clanged, and the air was thick with the smell of cooking food. Selene pointed out the various stations—cooking, prep, cleaning—and explained that everyone rotated through the different roles.

"Everyone here has a job to do," Selene said as we continued the tour. "It's how we keep the sanctuary running smoothly. Some work in the kitchen, others handle gardening, crop picking, and planting. There are also those who focus on cleaning, maintenance, and other essential tasks. You'll be expected to pick something you're good at and contribute."

I listened carefully, absorbing the information. The idea of having a job, something to keep me busy and give me a sense of purpose, was oddly comforting. It was a reminder that even in this strange new environment, there was still structure and routine—things I could hold on to as I navigated this new chapter of my life.

Selene led me down a narrow hallway to a small, sparsely furnished room that she told me would be mine. The room was basic—a bed, a small dresser, and a window that let in a sliver of light. It wasn't much, but it was a place to call my own, a space where I could retreat when I needed to think or rest.

"Here's your room," Selene said, gesturing to the space. "It's not luxurious, but it's private. You can make it your own."

I nodded, grateful for the small bit of privacy. "Thank you," I murmured, already thinking about how I could make the room feel a little more like home.

We continued the tour, stopping by the communal bathroom, where the other residents of the sanctuary took turns cleaning and maintaining the space. It was practical and clean, with everything needed to keep everyone comfortable and healthy.

Finally, Selene led me to the training area, a large, open space that was clearly designed for combat practice and honing mutant abilities. Several mutants were sparring or practicing their powers under the watchful eyes of instructors. The air was charged with energy, and I could see the determination in their faces as they pushed themselves to improve.

"This is where we train," Selene explained, her gaze sweeping over the room. "It's important for everyone here to be ready—to be strong. We never know when we might need to defend ourselves or the sanctuary. You'll be expected to join in the training sessions as well."

I watched the mutants sparring, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. I knew I had power within me—more than I fully understood—and the thought of learning to control it, to channel it into something useful, was both exciting and terrifying.

As we walked back toward the main area of the sanctuary, Selene turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "You'll need to choose a job, something that suits your skills and interests. It's part of being here—everyone contributes."

I thought about it for a moment, considering my options. I wasn't sure what I was good at anymore, not after everything that had happened. But I knew I needed to do something, to find a place for myself in this new world.

"I'll think about it," I said finally, my voice steady. "I'll find something."

Selene nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Good. Take your time. There's no rush, but don't wait too long. The sooner you find your place here, the better."

With that, the tour was over, and I was left to wander the sanctuary on my own, to explore and begin to find my footing in this strange, new place. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead was filled with challenges, but for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of purpose, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to make a difference—both for myself and for those around me.

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As dinner time approached, the sounds of chatter and clattering dishes filled the dining hall, but I wasn't in the mood to join the crowd. The weight of everything that had happened—everything I had seen—still hung heavy in my mind, and the idea of sitting among a noisy group of mutants felt overwhelming.

Instead, I decided to take my meal back to my room. Selene didn't seem surprised when I told her, and she simply nodded, understanding that I needed some time alone. Before I left the dining hall, she handed me a charger for my phone, which had been dead since my arrival. It was a small gesture, but it meant more than I could express.

Back in my room, I plugged in my phone, watching as the screen flickered to life, showing the familiar charging symbol. I placed it on the small table beside my bed, where my dinner tray was already set up. The food looked good—simple but comforting—but I couldn't muster much of an appetite.

I sat on the edge of the bed, picking at the food absentmindedly as my thoughts drifted back to the vision Selene and I had shared earlier. The images of fire, smoke, and the lifeless bodies of the people I cared about flashed through my mind, making it difficult to focus on anything else. The version of myself that had spoken those chilling words haunted me, her voice echoing in my head."This is our future, Violet. And there's no stopping it."

I pushed the plate of food away, unable to eat. The quiet of the room offered some solace, but it also left me alone with my thoughts—thoughts I wasn't sure I was ready to face.

The phone buzzed softly as it finished powering up, and I glanced at it, half-expecting to see messages from Charles, Vanessa, or Wade. But I wasn't ready to deal with that either, not yet. I needed time to process everything, to figure out what my next steps should be.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the sounds of the sanctuary muffled by the walls of my room. I knew I couldn't avoid what I had seen forever, but for tonight, I just needed to be alone—to think, to rest, and to try to make sense of the path I had chosen.

Tomorrow, I would begin to find my place here. Tomorrow, I would confront whatever lay ahead. But tonight, I just needed a moment to breathe.

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It was the middle of the night, and I found myself lying in bed, wide awake, unable to shake the vision from earlier. The darkness around me felt suffocating, closing in like the shadows of my own thoughts. I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but no matter how I shifted, sleep refused to come.

The images of fire, smoke, and death haunted me, playing over and over in my mind like a nightmare I couldn't escape. But it wasn't just the vision that kept me awake—it was what the other version of me had said, the chilling declaration that I was meant to be the Enchanted Witch.

The words echoed in my head, each syllable sending a shiver down my spine. The Enchanted Witch. It sounded like something out of a dark fairy tale, a name whispered in fear and reverence. But the way she had said it, with such cold certainty, made it clear that this wasn't just a story��it was my destiny, a role I was somehow fated to play.

I couldn't accept it. I didn't want to believe that I was meant to become something so powerful and terrifying, something that could bring about the destruction I had seen in the vision. But the other me had been so sure, so confident in the path that lay ahead.

Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I threw the covers off, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I couldn't just lie there, trapped in my own thoughts. I needed to do something, anything, to distract myself from the turmoil inside my head.

I stood up and paced the room, my mind racing. What did it mean to be the Enchanted Witch? Was it a title, a curse, or something more? And why did that other version of me seem so willing to embrace it?

The more I thought about it, the more questions piled up, each one more unsettling than the last. I was supposed to be here to find answers, to prevent the future I had seen, but instead, I felt like I was sinking deeper into uncertainty.

I stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I had pledged my loyalty to Magneto, hoping that he could help me control my powers and prevent the nightmare future from becoming a reality. But now, I wasn't sure if even he could help me with this.

The vision, the other me, the title of Enchanted Witch—it all felt like a puzzle with pieces that didn't quite fit together. And the more I tried to make sense of it, the more lost I felt.

I walked over to the window and looked out at the dark landscape of the sanctuary, the moon casting a pale light over the quiet world outside. The stillness of the night only made the chaos inside me feel more intense, like a pressure building up with no release.

I couldn't stay in that room any longer. I needed air, space to think, to try and clear my mind. Without a second thought, I grabbed my jacket and quietly slipped out of the room, hoping that a walk under the stars might bring some clarity to the confusion that plagued me.

The night was cool and still, the air crisp against my skin as I made my way through the quiet sanctuary. The darkness was comforting, wrapping around me like a blanket, the stars above offering a small measure of peace. I found myself drawn to one of the balconies, a place where I could see the sky and maybe find some solace in its vastness.

As I stepped onto the balcony, I was surprised to see a figure already there. Magneto—or Erik, as I had learned to call him—was sitting at a small table, a mug in his hand. He seemed deep in thought, but as I approached, he looked up and met my gaze. There was something calm and almost inviting in his expression, and without a word, he gestured for me to sit next to him.

I hesitated for only a moment before taking the seat beside him. The night was silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the wind, and for a while, neither of us spoke. Erik sipped from his mug, and I found myself wondering what it was he was drinking. But the question that came to my mind wasn't about his drink.

"Where did you get the name Magneto from?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Erik set down his mug, a small smile playing on his lips as he considered my question. "It was a name given to me," he began, his voice low and reflective. "A name that came to define me and the cause I chose to fight for. In the early days, when I first began to embrace my power, I needed something that would strike fear into the hearts of those who sought to oppress us—something that would remind them of the force they were dealing with."

He paused, looking out at the night sky, his eyes distant as if he were recalling memories from a lifetime ago. "Magneto became more than just a name. It became a symbol of resistance, of the strength we mutants possess. It was a way to remind the world that we are not to be trifled with, that we will not bow to those who seek to destroy us."

I nodded slowly, taking in his words. There was a certain power in the name, an undeniable strength that came with it. But there was also a weight, a burden that Erik carried with him—a burden I could see reflected in his eyes.

"And now?" I asked softly. "Do you still see yourself as Magneto?"

He looked at me then, his gaze intense and thoughtful. "Magneto is a part of me, just as Erik is. But I am more than a name, more than a symbol. I am a man who has seen the horrors of this world and who has chosen to stand against them. And now, I find myself in a position where I must guide others, help them find their own strength, their own path."

His words resonated with me, and for a moment, I understood a little more about the man who sat beside me.

After a brief silence, Erik turned his gaze back to me, his eyes searching mine with a quiet intensity. "What's your story?" he asked, his voice gentle yet probing.

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to answer. My story—where did I even begin? I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts, and then I started talking.

"It's... complicated," I began, my voice shaky as I tried to piece together the fragments of my life.

"I got my powers from a gem, something ancient and powerful. It wasn't something I chose—it just happened. Ever since then, I've been hiding, running from a man named Strucker. He's... he's the one who did things to me, who experimented on me, who made me into this."

Erik listened intently, his expression unreadable but his focus unwavering. I continued, feeling the weight of my words grow heavier with each sentence.

"When I moved to New York, I thought I could start over, live a simple life. And for a while, it was—well, as simple as it could be, given everything. But then, out of nowhere, two months of my life just... disappeared. My memories are gone, and my head feels like it's going to explode. I hear voices all the time, and they never stop."

My voice started to waver as the panic that had been simmering beneath the surface began to rise. "And now... now I'm supposedly going to be responsible for the deaths of my friends, of the X-Men. I saw it, Erik—I saw their bodies, their blood everywhere. And it's all because of me."

The words tumbled out faster now, my breathing becoming more erratic as I tried to hold myself together. "My life... it's been an endless cycle of pain ever since I was five. Every person I've ever loved has died or been taken from me. My parents, my friends... it's like I'm cursed, like everything I touch turns to ashes. And now, I'm watching it all happen again, and I don't know how to stop it. I don't even know if I can."

My heart raced, and I could feel the familiar weight of despair closing in, suffocating me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but before I could completely lose myself to the panic, Erik's voice cut through the storm in my mind.

"Violet," he said firmly, his voice grounding me in the present. He reached out, his hand gently caressing my cheek, the warmth of his touch grounding me in a way that nothing else could."Breathe," he whispered softly, his thumb brushing against my skin, wiping away the tear that had escaped. "You're not alone in this."

I looked up at him, my vision blurred by tears, and saw the steadiness in his gaze. He wasn't overwhelmed by my panic—if anything, he seemed determined to pull me out of it.

"Your life has been filled with pain, yes," he continued, his voice steady and calm. "But that pain has also made you stronger. You've survived what most people could never endure. And that strength, Violet, is what will help you face whatever comes next."

I blinked away the tears, focusing on his words, letting them sink in. His hand on my cheek was a comforting presence, a reminder that I wasn't as lost as I felt.

"You are not responsible for what others have done to you," Erik said, his thumb still gently stroking my cheek. "And you are not alone in this fight. You have people who care about you, who want to help you. And now, you have me."

His words, combined with the softness of his touch, began to chase away the darkness that had threatened to overwhelm me. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, feeling the warmth of his hand against my skin.

"You are stronger than you know," he continued. "And together, we will find a way to ensure that vision does not come to pass. But you must believe in yourself, Violet. You must believe that you have the power to change your fate."

I nodded slowly, the panic in my chest beginning to loosen its grip. Erik's touch, so unexpected and gentle, was a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice trembling but steadier than before.

Erik gave me a small, reassuring smile, his hand lingering on my cheek for a moment longer before he let it fall. "You're not alone in this," he repeated softly. "Remember that."

We sat in silence after that, the cool night air soothing the last of my frayed nerves. I wasn't sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I had a chance to face it head-on. And I knew that, whatever happened, I wouldn't have to face it alone.

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I don't exactly remember going to bed, but I think I slept pretty late. The exhaustion from everything that had happened must have finally caught up with me. When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the faint light streaming in through the small window in my room. It was morning, and the sanctuary was beginning to stir with the sounds of people starting their day.

I reached over to the small table where I had left my phone charging the night before. It was now fully charged, the screen glowing softly as I pressed the power button. As the device came to life, I felt a mixture of anticipation and unease. I hadn't checked my messages since I left, and I knew there would likely be messages waiting for me—some that I might not be ready to face.

As my phone powered on, the notifications began to appear, each one a reminder of the world I had left behind. My heart clenched as I saw the names—Charles, Vanessa, Wade, and Logan. I hesitated for a moment, then started with Charles's message.

His message was long, filled with words of concern and hope. He urged me to come back, saying that the X-Mansion was my home and that they could help me, that *he* could help me. But the more I read, the more my frustration grew. His relentless optimism, the way he tried to convince me that everything would be okay, felt like it was mocking my reality. We both knew he couldn't fix this, that the answers I needed weren't at the mansion. His well-meaning words started to piss me off, and I had to resist the urge to just delete the message without replying.

Next was Vanessa's message. It was short but sweet, filled with her usual warmth. She told me she missed me and hoped I was okay, that I should take care of myself and that she was here if I needed to talk. Her kindness made my heart clench with guilt, but I didn't give in. I wasn't ready to reach out, not yet. Not until I had more answers.

Then there was Wade's message. True to form, it was a mix of concern and humor, with him trying to make light of the situation. He asked if I was off on some grand adventure and made a joke about how he and Vanessa were holding down the fort. His message brought a small, reluctant smile to my face, but it also reminded me of the chaos I had left behind. Still, there was a part of me that appreciated his attempt to keep things light, even if it was just his way of coping.

And then there was Logan. I stared at his name for a moment, a wave of confusion washing over me. I didn't even remember having his number in the first place. How did he get my number? The message was brief, almost gruff, asking where I was and if I was okay. There was something about the tone that made me pause—like he was trying to care, but didn't quite know how to say it.

I sighed, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me. The messages from Charles and Logan irritated me, each for different reasons, while Vanessa's and Wade's made me feel guilty for leaving them in the dark. But I knew that I couldn't go back, not yet. Not until I had some clarity, some control over the chaos that had become my life.

For now, I turned off the phone again, deciding that the world outside could wait. There were bigger things to focus on, and I wasn't ready to face any of them yet.

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After turning off my phone and setting it aside, I decided that staying isolated in my room wouldn't do me any good. I needed to start integrating myself into the sanctuary, find my place here, and that meant stepping out and interacting with the people who were now part of my life.

I made my way to the dining room, which was already bustling with activity as mutants gathered for breakfast. The atmosphere was lively, with the clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation filling the air. I grabbed a plate of food and scanned the room, looking for a place to sit.

I spotted Selene sitting at a table with a few others. They seemed friendly enough, so I approached and took a seat next to her. Selene smiled as I joined them and introduced me to the group. They were a mix of personalities—some quiet, others more talkative—but all of them were welcoming and eager to make me feel at home.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn't help but feel a little more at ease. It was nice to be around people who understood the complexities of this life, even if I was still struggling to find my footing. They talked about their daily tasks, their powers, and the oddities of living in a place like this. It was almost... normal, in a way that I hadn't expected.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Erik sitting alone at a table across the room. He was drinking from the same blue mug I had seen him with last night, his expression thoughtful as he observed the room. There was something about him that drew me in—a quiet strength, a sense of purpose that I found myself gravitating toward.

Without really thinking about it, I excused myself from Selene's table and made my way over to Erik. He looked up as I approached, and I offered a small smile before taking a seat next to him.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, even though I had already sat down.

Erik gave a slight nod, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not at all."

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the noise of the dining room fading into the background. There was something calming about being near him, something that made the chaos in my mind quiet down, even if just for a little while.

"Good morning," I said softly, glancing at the blue mug in his hands. "Same drink as last night?"

Erik looked down at the mug and then back at me, his expression unreadable. "Yes," he replied simply. "A habit of mine."

I nodded, not pushing for more. There was no need to fill the silence with unnecessary words. Instead, I took a bite of my breakfast, feeling a small measure of comfort in the routine of it all.

As we sat together, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this place could become something close to a home. I wasn't there yet, but with Erik's quiet presence beside me, it didn't feel so impossible.

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After breakfast, Selene approached me, her expression thoughtful. "Have you decided what you'd like to focus your time on here?" she asked, her tone gentle but direct.

I paused, realizing that I hadn't really given much thought to how I would contribute to the sanctuary. Everything had been so overwhelming since I arrived that finding a role here hadn't even crossed my mind. But as I considered her question, a memory surfaced—something from a life that seemed so distant now.

"I used to work at a flower shop," I said, almost to myself. The memory of arranging flowers, tending to plants, and working with my hands felt like a distant echo of something comforting.

"Maybe I could work in the garden?"

Selene's eyes softened, and she gave me a small nod. "That sounds like a perfect fit," she said. "The garden could always use more hands, and it's a good way to connect with the earth, to find some peace."

I felt a small sense of relief at her words, as if I had finally found something solid to hold onto in the midst of all the uncertainty. Working in the garden—taking care of plants, nurturing life—felt like a step toward finding some semblance of normalcy, even here.

"Thank you," I replied, feeling a bit more grounded now that I had a purpose, something to focus on besides the chaos in my mind.

"Come with me," Selene said, a hint of warmth in her voice as she led the way. "I'll show you where you'll be working."

Selene led me through the sanctuary, taking a path that wound through the trees and away from the main buildings. As we walked, the noise of the dining hall and the bustle of the sanctuary began to fade, replaced by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. The air here felt fresher, more alive, and I could already feel a small sense of peace beginning to settle over me.

Eventually, we reached a small, weathered shed nestled among the trees. Selene pushed open the door, and I followed her inside. The shed was filled with gardening supplies—tools of every kind, from shovels and spades to pruning shears and watering cans. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with bags of soil, fertilizer, and seed packets, all neatly organized. The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of earth and greenery.

"This is where you'll find everything you need," Selene said, gesturing to the various supplies. "The garden is just beyond those trees, and it's yours to take care of. You'll have help, of course, but this will be your space."

I looked around the shed, taking in the sight of the tools and supplies. There was something comforting about the simplicity of it all—working with my hands, nurturing life from the soil. It felt like a small return to normalcy, a piece of the life I had left behind.

"Thank you," I said, my voice soft but sincere. "This... this is exactly what I need right now."Selene smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "I thought it might be. The garden is a place of peace for many here. I hope it becomes that for you, too."

With that, she left me to explore the shed on my own, giving me the space I needed to get familiar with the tools and supplies. I ran my fingers over the handles of the tools, feeling their sturdy weight, and breathed in the earthy scent that filled the shed. This was a place where I could find some solace, a way to reconnect with something simple and pure.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Two hours of hard work in the garden felt like a kind of therapy, the repetitive motions and the earthy scents grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in a long time. But by the time I was done, I was drenched in sweat, dirt streaked across my skin, and I knew I needed a shower—badly.

I walked back to my room, eager to clean up and wash away the grime of the day. Selene had generously given me some body wash and shampoo when I first arrived, and I was looking forward to finally using them. As I grabbed the bottles from the small table by my bed, my phone suddenly started ringing.

I glanced at the screen, and my heart sank when I saw the name: Logan.

I hesitated for a moment, torn between ignoring the call and answering it just to tell him to leave me alone. The frustration I felt toward him, mixed with everything else I was dealing with, bubbled up to the surface. Deciding I wasn't going to let him off easily, I answered the call, ready to yell at him.

But before I could say anything, Logan's voice cut through, sharp and urgent. "We know where you are. We're coming to get you."

And then, just like that, he hung up.

I stared at the phone, the shock of his words sinking in. My heart raced, a mix of anger and panic rising within me. They knew where I was. They were coming here.

The peace I had just begun to find shattered in an instant, replaced by the familiar sense of dread. I had no idea how they had tracked me down or what they intended to do, but one thing was clear—I wasn't ready to face them, not yet.

Part 18: Under pressure

#logan howlett #x men #logan howlett x reader #marvel #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier

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