#I am appreciative of my landlord talking to them but I do not want these issues to continue :(
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onedirecton · 9 months ago
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last night was the first night in about week where I had absolutely peace so I hope it continues 💗🫶
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago
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Mad Season 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker
Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)
Note: happy weekend.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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The scalloped collar of your cardigan sticks out like a sore thumb among the tube tops and spaghetti straps. You don’t know how anyone can stand to wear skirts that short with winter looming around the next corner. Even as the dorm is filled with the heat of bodies, an open window lets in a frigid gust that has you shivering. 
It might help if you detach yourself from the wall. That would mean wading into the bodies and god forbid, talking to strangers. You cross your arms and sway as you search the crowded kitchen. There’s more in the front room and the bedrooms. The place is filled to the brim with tipsy co-eds. 
You stand on your toes as you try to spot your host. You haven’t seen Peter since you got there. He disappeared to help with a spill and just never came back. You figured that’s how it would go. You’re boring and it is his party. He can’t just be hanging out with you all night. 
As the voices grow to a furor and your head begins to spin with the wall of bodies, your chest tightens. You sidle along the wall, ducking and dodging away from drunken guests, and find your way to the door. You let yourself into the hall as you shake up your puffer. 
You take a deep inhale and let it out slow. It’s already better. The music and buzz of chatter courses through the wall but it isn’t deafening. You’ll stay out there for a while then find Peter and tell him you’re too tired. 
You pull out your phone to distract yourself. You could try texting. No, he deserves a real goodbye. He invited your after all. 
The door opens again and a couple bursts out, leaving it open in their stead as they hit the wall not a foot away from you. They don’t notice you as they tangle each other up in a sloppy make out sessions. You make a face at them and quickly flit away. You have no other choice but to go back to the party. 
As you weave around the other guests, your mind detaches and wanders back to that dark night on campus. You didn’t really believe Bucky at first but then again, how well do you know Peter? It’s completely likely that he’s brought other girls around. But would it matter? 
Like you told Bucky, you’re just doing a project. 
You hit the wall suddenly as someone collides with you from the side. You let out and oomf and grip your phone tighter. You turn as a splash of cold liquid leaks down your sleeve. The drunken girl doesn’t even apologise as she laughs and follows her friend down to the kitchen. 
You shrink down even further. It’s overcrowded and too loud and too much. Not only that but you plainly don’t belong here. You live in an off-campus property with a shady landlord and questionable roommates; this place is a premium all-inclusive dorm. The type legacies and trust funders live in. 
You manage to squeeze past a group of boys in varsity jackets arguing loudly. You dip into Peter’s room and take a breath. It’s not as bad as the rest of the house but there’s some girls on the bed giggling and talking about things that make you want to blush. 
You search around. Not necessarily for an escape, you’re not desperate enough to hop out the window, but just for anywhere to hide and catch your breath. Literally. You switch your phone for your puffer and put it to your lips. 
You cross to the bathroom and knock. You turn your ear to it and listen for an answer. Nothing. You turn the handle and push inside. 
You stop short. Inside, Peter’s against the wall of the shower, pinned by MJ as she nibbles on his lower lip. You gasp in surprise and gape. Oh gosh. 
You stand dumbly in the door. Move, you idiot. Before you can flee, Peter’s eyes open and he sees you. He winces and grabs MJ’s shoulders, moving her away from him. 
“Hey,” he tries to move past her but she tugs him back. 
You back out, cheeks burning, and spin away without closing the door. It’s not like it’s any of your business, you shouldn’t care, but it’s awkward. You shouldn’t have seen that.  
It’s just like you suspected. You’re crashing Peter’s party. He didn’t actually want to invite you, he was just being nice. Like always. He’s always so nice and patient and you’re so pathetic. 
Maybe Bucky is right. Maybe you’re just another girl. Well, so what? You’re just friends. Just lab partners. You don’t care, do you? 
You barely avoid the elbow of one of the frats slurping on a red cup and another group of girls blindly force their way by without making room. You press against the wall as you try to get free of the bustling space.  
God, why did you even come? You knew this was a bad idea. This is the last time you do anything just to be polite. What good has that ever got you? 
You finally get to the door and stumble out into the hall. You catch yourself against the wall and look over at the couple still grossly sucking down each other’s tongues. You grimace and shake your puffer. You suck on it as you head down the hallway. 
“Hey, wait,” Peter calls your name as the door once more lets out the cacophony of voice, “look, what you saw--” 
“It’s fine, Peter,” you rasp, “really. Parties aren’t really my thing.” 
“No, it’s not fine. I don’t want you to think I just ditched you. It’s just MJ, she was all over me. Really, I was trying to get away--” 
“Peter,” you gulp, “we’re just friends,” you turn to face him and he nearly trips as he skids to a halt. “I don’t care.” 
You smile, or try to. You might be lying. You’re not really sure yourself. 
“You... don’t?” He frowns. 
You stare at him. “Well, should I?” You laugh nervously. 
He deflates and his brows furrow, “I mean... I do. I really care about you and... I was telling MJ and she just jumped on me. She has this thing for taken guys. Kinda why we didn’t work out. But uh, I guess I messed it all up. I invited you because I... well, yeah, I guess it doesn’t matter now.” His shoulders slump and his eyes glisten, “so, just go. I messed it all up. Not like you could ever like me back, right?” 
You stare at him. You open your mouth then shut it. Like him? Like really like him? If that’s what he means... do you? 
💜💜💜
From this point, there will be two paths; both Bucky and Peter will appear in both but each will favour one or the other as end goal. 
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abrcmswrld · 2 years ago
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Talk to Strangers
Edward Nashton x Coworker! Reader
━━━━
Word Count: 4,951
Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), stalking, unprotected sex, angst and fluff and smut, a decent bit of tears, obligatory mentions of murder
Summary: You’ve warmed up to Edward despite his cold nature, but what happens when the puzzle pieces start to fall together and you can feel someone watching you in the darkness?
Authors Note: I actually tried so hard on this yall, I posted this to my ao3 page first so I am sorry if the formatting is all kinds of messed up on here :( This is my first fic i’ve posted since 2017 so I sincerely apologize if it’s meh, i also don’t have anyone else proofread my fics so i apologize for any errors i missed! enjoy!
Ao3 Link
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He's arrogant. Oh so arrogant, and you can't fucking stand it. You watch him every morning as he strides in, past your desk at reception, white button up shirt, clear framed glasses, shaggy hair that falls over his forehead . He's certainly not a hit among the office, so maybe you're not wrong in your feelings. Though your other co-workers generally regard him as a pushover- not a self-absorbed asshole. He's good at what he does, sure. He's earned his spot, but he often brings a shadow into the rooms he walks into. A presence that you can only describe as infernal.
You don’t know much about his story. You generally pride yourself on getting to know the people you surround yourself with, but he has never let you get close enough to find out. Maybe that’s why you find him arrogant. He thinks he’s too good to speak to you for more than two sentences related to files he needs you to fax for him. What you do know about him is that he’s been at KTMJ for longer than you have been- maybe 5 years more. You can still remember the first time you met. You were fresh faced and eager. Seeking validation, in desperate need of some stability.
You extend your arm for a handshake. His hands are slightly clammy as he accepts your handshake. And though you had greeted him with your brightest smile (might as well go all in if you ever wanted to be anything other than a receptionist) he hadn't smiled back. He'd kept a rather straight face as he gave his brief introduction. "Edward."
Now you have a sense of stability. Sure, the quality of life in Gotham is subpar and you still haven't received that promotion, but you make enough to live comfortably in comparison to others in the city. You try to count your blessings.
━━━━
You had already been having a shitty day. Your landlord had informed you of an increase in rent rates by slipping an envelope under your door. Sure, it sucked to be asked to pay more for an apartment that could be deemed shitty by any normal person with a pair of eyes, but it was the lack of communication that got you. Not even the decency to call your residence and tell you with their own voice. Just a slip of paper under the door.
But you tried to bring a good attitude to the office. You hate being the one to damper the mood. You would rather leave that to him. Always him. Never smiling back at you as he walks through the door, never meeting your eyes to acknowledge your presence, nothing. And you were used to that. It would be okay, if it weren't for the stack of papers that laid on your desk when you got in. Neatly stacked with a green sticky note reading "Need copies. -Edward" scrawled in messy handwriting. You immediately feel the flames rise into your chest.
It's a quick stride from your desk to his cubicle, stack of papers tightly tucked into your fist. You slam them onto his desk as soon as you reach it, and he raises an eyebrow at you in response. "What the hell is this?" He glances at the papers and back at you. "The copier isn't working. I wrote what I needed." You sigh, annoyed at the fact that he doesn't understand.
"You couldn't have waited for me to get here and brought them to me yourself? I would really appreciate it if you would treat me like a human being every once in a while, ya know, actually acknowledge my existence." You realize how dramatic you must sound, but in all honesty you've been thinking it for years, it was only a matter of time before it came out. "I needed copies. I didn't think my acknowledgement meant that much to you." He holds his hands out in defense, feigning that he actually cared if he had hurt your feelings.
"I think you think you're smarter than everyone else here." You plant a hand on the table in front of him as you crouch to his level.
He sighs and you can see the corners of his mouth twitch. "I do. Is that so bad?"
"It makes you an asshole."
He finally faces you.
"Better to be an asshole than to be an idiot."
His voice doesn't carry any malice, yet the words feel like a slap in the face to you. It leaves you scrambling for a response, opening your mouth only to close it a second later. Until you decide to merely respond with a nervous chuckle. Sure, you thought his response showed his ego, but you had to admit. He got you. He faces you once more at the sound of your light chuckle, green eyes meeting yours completely. "I guess you're right."
You catch the corners of his mouth turning upwards.
"If it means that much to you, I will greet you next time."
━━━━
And he does. Greet you that is. You find yourself talking to him more and more. Sitting in the break room with him at lunch, looking over his shoulder at the crossword puzzle he works on at his desk and giving your best shot at an answer, relishing in the furrow of his brows as he turns to look over his shoulder at you. He's an asshole. He's arrogant. But there's something about him that's drawing you in. Sometimes you feel like a fish caught in a net. All those moments he'd brushed you off and yet you find yourself repeating the little quirks of his soft smiles in your head. You hate the term "work husband", but it seems that Edward is slowly becoming the very definition of that.
You don't speak outside of the office, but you find yourself gravitating towards him when you're stressed. You tell him about your landlord and the reason you had gotten so defensive with him. He understood.
"It's a cesspool here. None of these people actually care about people like us, not the landlords, not our coworkers, certainly not the politicians." He had said in that moment.
As October rolls around and the leaves begin to fall, you find yourself beginning to bring two coffees to work, one for you, one for him. He always shows an appreciative nod. But the moment you start to think about asking him to actually go out with you for coffee is like being the fish pulled out of the water and accepting it's inevitable fate. You were gonna let him drive you insane.
You're sure of it as you are caught up in the nerves and find yourself softly grabbing his hand to stop him outside the front doors of the office. You quickly pull your hand from his. no doubt blushed a deep red. But he just stares, waiting for you to speak. You clear your throat. "I- um- Sorry, I was just gonna see if you had plans now." And it pains you the way he doesn't speak, just continues to stare.
"There's a diner on the corner near here. I think they have decent pie."
He loosens the tension in his shoulders and looks down. "Oh. I'm actually sort of drowning in... paperwork right now." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. God, you hoped you hadn't made him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."
You quickly shake your head and let out a breathy laugh. "Oh no! It's totally fine, I probably have paperwork to finish too." You hope it hides the pang you feel in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow." You swiftly turn and walk away before he can respond.
━━━━
But you wouldn't see Edward tomorrow. Matter of fact you wouldn't see him for the next three days after Halloween. You try not to let it bother you.
It's the beginning of a cold November, he's probably just sick or desperately needed a vacation. Or perhaps you'd seriously fucked it all up and he couldn't even stand the sight of you. You can't stop the deep sigh that comes from you as you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand. Embarrassingly, you ask Zach if he's heard from Edward. Not that you expected him to be particularly helpful. "Are you guys, like, fucking?" You are stunned and stammering your words. "Wha- No! No. I just worry about him."
"Look, I wouldn't worry about him too much, I mean the guy's basically a fucking recluse. When do you ever see him outside of here? Maybe it's good that he's somewhere besides here."
Still, there's no chance of you actually focusing on work and you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news headlines, before one in particular catches your eye.
'Mayoral Incumbent Donald Mitchell, Jr. Murdered in his Home on Halloween Night.'
Holy shit.
━━━━
Edward is back at work after three long days, and despite your worry of his annoyance and anger, he is oddly elated.
It's the first time he approaches your desk. Leaning against it, coffee cup in hand, and flashing an awkward smile before asking, "So did I miss anything?" It leaves you a little taken aback, but it's a relief to see him approach you willingly after your last conversation.
"Um yeah, Zach was a total prick as usual- Oh! And our mayor was murdered."
He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from the coffee cup. You feign annoyance, "No but seriously where were you? I started to wonder if that psychopath got you too."
He smiles. "Just sick. November weather and all."
━━━━
The first time you see the green mask you are in a huddle of coworkers around a computer screen.
'Police Commissioner, Pete Savage, Murdered. Killer Leaves Shocking Confession.'
"My God. What a sick freak." Zach interjects.
You can barely stand to watch. The video is hardly graphic aside from the disturbing voice of the masked man, but the implications of what happens when the video cuts off leaves your stomach turning. You walk away. Desperate for some space, but also desperate for a distraction. Edward sits straight in his office chair across the room. You hesitate slightly before striding toward his desk and leaning your weight against it. You can feel the sweat beading at your forehead as you lightly brush hair from your eyes. "Shit."
It's merely a whisper to yourself, but he turns his head to face you. For once his face shows concern towards you. Yet he still says nothing, only looks. Observant as always.
"Sorry. I needed to get out of that." You gesture towards the group of coworkers still huddled and murmuring among each other. He glanced back, before turning back towards his work. "The news?" He inquires quietly.
"Yeah. It's a little too much for me to stomach." There's a little pause as if he is hesitant to say anything before finally replying, "They were pricks. Don't you think they kind of deserved it?"
You straighten up, looking at him with shock. "I think they were still people with families." He frowns at you before you finally walk away from his desk to make your way to the restroom. You needed to get a grip.
━━━━
Edward apologizes for his insensitivity after work. You had stayed with him outside of the building long after all of your other coworkers had left. "It's fine." You refuse to look at him as he lights a cigarette and gets in a few quick puffs. You're being mean. But if you're honest the combination of his rejection and his comment earlier in the day had set you off. "And I'm sorry for last week." Only then you look up at him.
"I've had a lot going on, and it feels a little unfair to bring you into all of that."
"This feels like an excuse to let me down easy. It's okay if you just don't want to go on a date-"
The feeling of chapped lips on your own stops you mid sentence. He tastes of coffee and cigarettes and you crave more, but he pulls back quickly. His free hand remains at your cheek, holding your face in a gentle caress. "It's not an excuse. Things are just complicated for me right now." His eyes never leave your face. It's the best look you've gotten of them. Of him. His features are gentle behind shaggy hair and acetate glasses.
Something feels wrong and eerie in the back of your mind. Like seeing him this close gave you a sickening feeling of deja vu. Things were definitely complicated. The bags under his eyes were showing his exhaustion well, he had gone from elated to unwell since his return. He seems like a broken man, but he'd never let you close enough to find out why. You can't help but feel the connection, like he deserved a shot even if he didn't want it. Even if he thought he was smarter. Even if there's a side to him that could hurt you. You push down your feelings of uneasiness.
You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.
"When you're ready."
━━━━
You're awake nearly all night the next weekend. Spending the entire time digging through news about the figure known as The Riddler, his possible next targets, possible identities, and most importantly all of the video footage he'd put out in the last few weeks. It's certainly not healthy. You generally steer clear of these sorts of things. Years of therapy had gotten you far and you would rather not ruin it by desensitizing yourself. But you can't help it. You find yourself going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole until you find yourself tuning into his streams late at night.
He speaks with such a confidence in himself. As if he has all of the answers, and is just waiting to enlighten the world. His followers are even more terrifying. They'd do anything for him. You wonder how low a person must be in life to resort to this sort of behavior. But, you're not a psychiatrist. Who are you to speak on these people. These strangers.
"We are going to cleanse this cesspool of city."
You slam the laptop shut.
Sleeping isn't easy after this sort of activity. You should've known. You turn on a show you don't actually care about to give yourself some sense of security in background noise. And soon you find yourself drifting asleep. It's not great sleep. You can sense yourself tossing and turning, but you can deal with it. Everything is fuzzy until you find yourself on your back.
Paralyzed.
It's not uncommon for you to experience sleep paralysis, but you've experienced it less after your time in therapy. You try to keep your breathing steady, trying to convince yourself that whatever you see is merely a hallucination.
Shh. Shh. Just breathe.
But the figure that appears is familiar. That's what scares you the most. The green coat and mask is horrifying as it inches towards the bed, and you can't scream. you can't move away. You can only watch the blood drip from his gloved fingertips onto your floor as he stares. Tilting his head at you slightly, as he brings a hand up to his head. You can hear your heart pounding and you are practically internally begging yourself to wake up. The latches on his mask pop open and you're horrified to find that the face underneath is so familiar. A slight smirk on lips you have kissed before. Blood dripping from a hand that you've held before. You try to scream. Tears falling down your temples until he is suddenly gone and you shoot up in your bed.
You can't hold back the cry that escapes your throat. It wasn't real, he's gone, and you're safe in your room.
━━━━
Until suddenly the safety of your room begins to feel a lot less safe. You hear it. The creaking of the floorboards at night, the slight tapping against the glass of your bedroom window. The slight squeak of leather rubbing and rustling together. You're too scared to open your eyes those first few nights. You'd rather be blind and take your fate than die in paralyzing fear.
But you know it's him.
It was never unclear what was staring at you in the night. Maybe the nightmares of the leather gloves touching your skin hadn't been nightmares at all. You want so badly to be sickened. To run into your bathroom to empty your stomach out of panic and fear. Instead you feel a strange mixture of annoyance and arousal in your gut.
He thinks he's smarter than you.
You find yourself playing into his games.Attempting to one up him. To show him you aren't scared of him. That you can keep up. You begin to deliberately change in front of your window. Letting lacy fabric hit the cold floor and standing just a tad longer, stalling before covering yourself back up.
You hope he's watching when you peel off your work tights. You hope he's imagining himself on his knees tearing the delicate fabric from your form, only to be blocked by a thin pane of glass. You wanted the upper hand.
You hope he's watching as you sink two fingers into yourself, thinking about crisp, white button ups and clear framed glasses.
━━━━
The next few weeks are tense at work. You heard the news of what happened to Gil Colson at Don Mitchell's funeral. Edward would walk in everyday, and attempt to greet you, only this time it's you who is short. You have a little hope that he can't see straight through you. But you can see it in the way that he looks at you that you're an open book. Who's to say that he won't just watch, but actually kill you to keep you from talking. But deep down you both know your lips are shut tight.
So you work through the days, just ready to get home. You can hardly stand to look at him. It makes you feel like you're an accomplice. A sitting duck for a man who probably doesn't even care about you, withholding a tip to the police because deep down you really do like him. And you had hoped he liked you too until things got complicated. Now you think it would just be best if he abandoned you right where you were. But he doesn't. In fact, he suddenly has more courage than you'd ever seen from him. It's evident as he catches you by your arm and pulls you into the alleyway beside the office after work is over. It's dark and you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared, but he kisses you like nothing is wrong. Like he has no clue. Like nothing has changed.
You pull away from him, wide eyes staring back at him. "Are you okay?" He asks quietly as he brushes a hand up your arm. You can't help the break in your voice. "I know, Edward."
He just stands and stares. "What?" You take two steps back. "You're killing people." He continues to stare. He drops his hand from your arm. The silence scares you more than anything. But he simply sighs.
"I think you should go home and get some rest."
And before you can argue he walks away with a quickened pace.
━━━━
So you do. You return to your shitty apartment and try to compose yourself. What would he do now that you said that? Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you had accused him of something he genuinely didn't do. But it didn't feel wrong. You sigh as the hot water hits your back. You had hoped a shower would help you feel refreshed, but for the first time in a while, it feels like a chore. You can't enjoy it, so you rush through it. As you step into your bedroom you stop in your tracks. The window is slightly ajar, a cool draft flowing in tingles your bare legs. And then you see him. The figure in the darkness of your room. This time you're not dreaming.
He's in your room. You're paralyzed. The position you swore you'd never let yourself be put in. He's got the upper hand.
He just stands there. A part of you wishes he would attack you. Kill you. Anything just to break the still silence. You realize you're shaking. You agreed to play his game and now you're trailing his lead, allowing yourself to be beaten.
"Edward."
It comes out as a shaky whisper, but he visibly takes it in as he steps toward you to close the distance. You can see his eyes crinkle at the corners through the green mask. He's smiling. And he reaches a gloved hand to your face, cupping one cheek. You can feel the warmth radiating from his hand even through the glove. So, he is human. The Riddler has a beating heart and flowing blood. He is not a cold, lifeless monster. His stoic frame you had become so familiar with at work was gone. He catches a tear from your cheek with his thumb.
He is terrifying.
"No more through the window. I'll be gone soon."
Before you can entirely comprehend the statement and it's implications, your brain forms the word that leaves your mouth. "Gone?"
He simply smiles again, this time reaching his hands behind his head to abandon the mask he had come in with, and there he is. Cherubic features glowing under the street lamp light that flows in from your window. "I watched you live for a month. I watched you eat, sleep, undress, touch yourself. But you knew that right? Otherwise you wouldn't have put on such a show."
You attempt to struggle away from his grasp in disgust at his words but he holds you tight in front of him. "But that's alright. I'll tell you the truth because I hate liars. I liked knowing that you were doing it all for me. I wanted nothing more than to cleanse Gotham, to give them true salvation, but you put a dent into that plan. You became a distraction that I foolishly indulged." The soft light is hitting his features just right. He looks like an angel in devils' clothing. And his tight grip is right back to a gentle caress. His hand reaches the small of your back and you're sucking in a shrill breath.
His kiss is soft, inexperienced. Much like the other times you had kissed. But he is treating you like glass that might break. You think it might be the first time you've seen him relax enough to be seen as a particularly gentle being. He's ditched his looming, arrogant behavior you're so used to just to show you his utmost affection. It's the first time you have seen him like this since the first time you had kissed.
But some part of you is burning. He's not your prince charming. You know exactly what he is capable of, you've seen it. You're not glass. You're not a damsel. This is a man who has watched you undress for him through your window for weeks. This is a man who has killed. And it shouldn't bring heat into your core the way it does. Perhaps it's the thrill of the danger.
You kiss him so hard that your teeth clash. It stuns him as his hand lifts from your body momentarily before finding purchase at your hips. He's inexperienced, but the desperation coming from both of you is enough to cover it up.
The warmth and weight of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating. The little sparks of guilt and shame that flash in your stomach are quickly subdued by his nimble fingers caressing under your nightgown and up your thighs to hook in the waistband of your panties. You can't help the pathetic moan that escaped your mouth as he slowly drags the fabric down your legs.
"I wanted to do it right. Wanted to take you to that diner, buy your food, take you home, and act like I hadn't thought about fucking you into your mattress every single night."
It's almost strange to see him on his knees. He has built himself up to be godlike. You were sure he wouldn't mind you on your knees in front of him. Absolutely worshipping him. The warmth of his tongue swiping over you has your thoughts lurching, and yes, god, he is divine.
"But it would be wrong to pretend to be someone I am not. I'm not a liar."
You can't help but tangle your fingers into his beautifully unkept hair and pull. He is ravishing you. Sinking two fingers into you until you feel the heavenly curl right into the spot that makes you whimper. "Eddie-" He swallows your moans in a desperate openmouthed kiss. His fingers are working you open, you can feel tightness build in your stomach. Like a rubber band ready to snap. But it's ripped away from you as he pulls his fingers out of you and swiftly pushes you to the bed. The sounds of his belt buckle coming undone has your heart racing faster than it already was, your stomach fluttering.
He buries himself inside of you with no hesitation, no time to adjust. It hurts and his inexperience is noticeable, but the look of bliss on his face and his slight whimpers has you ready to cum before you've even started.
You're gripping onto the back of the green leather parka, reminding yourself of who you're with. Who you're letting fuck you right now. But those green eyes bring you back to all those times he'd flash a slight smile your way in the office. He'd try to hide it but you're the only person he showed fondness towards in that hell hole of a workplace. Thinking back to the night he had kissed you has tears welling up in your eyes again. He notices.
He slows his pace momentarily, letting his short thrusts turn into long drags. A gloved hand wipes tears away once again and you meet his concerned gaze.
"Does this not make you happy?"
Your hands move to cradle his face. A move that he's certainly not used to as his thrust halt for a moment in surprise. "I am happy. But what comes after this? Am I supposed to ignore you and pretend I know nothing about you? That I feel nothing for you?" He stops his movements completely now. The room has fallen silent apart from the heavy breathing between you two.
"I have to mean nothing to you. Momentarily."
You knew the answer before you asked the question, but it hurts just as bad anyway. You don't take your eyes off his. The Riddler's facade is cracking before your eyes, you can see his eyes becoming glossy. It's almost like he's turned into a completely different person. He kisses you. Deeply, but not rough. There's so much pent up feeling behind it, you could sob even harder. But you don't and he keeps kissing you as he resumes his movements.
You're not using any protection, but you're too blissed out to care. You crave that feeling of warmth. "Eddie- I-"
His hips start to stutter as he cuts you off and buries his face in your neck. " I love you- please God- just say it back to me. Tell me you love me." You hold his face in your hands guiding his gaze to meet yours again. "Edward, I love you."
That's all it takes for him to fall apart. His whimpers and cries are like music to your ears and the feeling of warmth as he releases everything he has into you is blissful. You both have to take a second to recover, foreheads pressed together. But eventually he rolls off of you carefully and tucks himself back into his pants. The silence is deafening. You said it to push him over the edge, but was it true that you loved him? The idea of falling in love with Edward was easy in your mind, in a perfect world the idea of settling down somewhere else and waking up next to him felt good. But this wasn't a perfect world. Edward killed people, powerful people, and the chance that he'd get away without paying for it was slim.
"I'm gonna turn myself in in a couple of days."
"Okay."
"You should leave Gotham. It's not going to be safe for you here. If the cops ask you're visiting a friend in Bludhaven."
His hand grips yours as he looks at you.
"I promise if I ever get out, I'll find you."
━━━━
You do as he asked of you. Got a hotel in Bludhaven and in the next couple of nights you watched the television endlessly, waiting to see his face. The night you finally did, you cried yourself to sleep, gripping the hotel sheets as you buried your face into your pillow.
But you held yourself together and did as Edward asked.
When the man in the bat suit showed up at your hotel door a week after the flood you give your best answers.
"I'm visiting a friend, but the flood has kept me in town."
"No, I didn't know him well, we just worked together."
"I mean he was a little strange, but I never thought he would murder someone."
“I would never have expected it to be him.”
"I hope he gets the help he needs."
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whenthechickencry · 9 months ago
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Umineko EP8 Tea Party, ??? and End
Featherine is writing and starts talking about when is an appropriate time to finish a tale, remarking that this kind of tale should probably be left in a cat box. Bernkastel is sewing Lambdadelta back up in very sexually charged language, Erika comes to the room, Bernkastel reveals Dlanor is still in touch with her, LambdaBern flirt some more and Erika gets jealous.
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Gertrude has earned a promotion, Cornelia is learning martial arts. Will is.... a landlord who plays Badmington with Lion. Dlanor is still hard at work. Lambdadelta and Bernkastel promise to see each other when something else cries.
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I think I mentioned it before, but one of my goals for this replay was to have a deeper appreciation for Bern and Lambda. I played the game originally as my first WTC game so I was constantly like, "Well that's definitely hinting at something I don't get". On replay, I appreciate them a lot more and I think reading their lines also gives you a lot of understanding towards other characters, as well.... a lot of scenes are even further contextualized by GouSotsu. If you don't have the context for Higurashi it is very easy to villainize Bernkastel a lot and not understand her as anything more than evil, which I think is a disservice for any Umineko character. I also appreciate Erika a lot more, she feels kind of like a tertiary main character of the answer arcs haha, I mentioned it a lot but I really do pity her a lot and I do kind of hope for better for her anyway. Meanwhile....
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Sakutarou is now famous, and also Ange I guess. Or Kotobuki Yukari. Ange is spending her life writing books, hoping to help more children find magic and happiness. Then the name Hachijo Tohya gets brought up... Ange remembers how Hachijo's refusal to reveal the truth ultimately led to the Rokkenjima Mystery to die down, and thanks her. Ange agrees to meet with Hachijo and it is revealed that Hachijo is 2 people.
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Ange doesn't really know how to deal with the reveal Battler is "Alive", other than shock. Happy he's alive though. She mentions how if it happened at another time, she would probably be pissed he hadn't shown himself up earlier, but right now she's just happy the miracle happened. Battler confirms what we saw at the very end of ep8, and Ange seems to blame herself for the reunion taking so long, due to her changing her name. But then she thinks about how she did try to meet with Hachijo once and was denied, but then instead of blaming anyone decides to just thank God for the miracle. I am so happy to see Ange so.... at peace. But Hachijo and Tohya reveal that they were perfectly capable of meeting her before, which throws her for a loop, and starts getting actually angry. Tohya explains how he has Battler's memories, but isn't Battler.
I forgot Tohya tried to kill himself, damn, considering Sayo's own issues with identity I can imagine writing the forgeries also helped him cope with his own fragmented identity....
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Those tears are so pained... I want to cry. Ange accepts that Battler is both dead and came back to her, and is doing her best to hold herself together for Tohya.
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I am a little relieved it is an entirely different Gospel House, the original was kind of fucked up, but this is a house for children to learn of magic. Ange reveals that not only is this a replica of the Ushiromiya Mansion hall, but it's the same as EP8's Halloween party... certainly showing the Battler inside Tohya that he can rest easy with everyone else now.
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Battler is back home, Ange and Tohya can keep living in the future with no regrets.
Man, I really don't know what to say. I have already said so much but it still feels like I have so much to learn from Umineko. Umineko and Higurashi have meant so much to me across the years and I am so glad my replay led to me loving this experience more than I did. I hope one day I can revisit the game in Japanese, I am on classes and I want to come back once I am good enough to read this. That's uh, very far in the future though. I still have a lot to say and I will make more posts about my general thoughts once I finish reading all the side content. For now, I will say this replay made me appreciate a lot more how carefully handled the mystery was, and how it made me appreciate the answer arc in a lot of new ways.... first time I thought ep5-6 were one of the weaker arcs and now I think they are among the strongest. It's kind of funny though, I don't really feel the finality I feel when ending a lot of games. I still have so much more to learn about the world of Umineko and When They Cry, so finishing a game doesn't feel like an ending but just a step toward understanding more. This blog has mostly just been a tool for me to force myself to think a bit deeper into scenes than usual, via forcing myself to write down my thoughts. It's a little embarrassing but it has been a fun thing to do. I will probably keep doing it in the future, and I hope doing this will help me improve myself if only a little bit.
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agentnico · 4 months ago
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Thelma (2024) review
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It was either this or Despicable Me 4. And I ain’t giving another penny to those dastardly minions!
Plot: Thelma Post is a 93-year-old grandmother who loses $10,000 to a con artist on the phone. With help from a friend and his motorized scooter, she soon embarks on a treacherous journey across Los Angeles to reclaim what was taken from her.
I am actually shocked that this is June Squibb’s FIRST lead role. The lady is a damn Academy Award winner for Christ’s sake, and yet it took her to reach her nineties to get top billing? Adds another layer to the saying “better late than ever”. Then again, if you look at the current President of the United States then age doesn’t matter, no matter how many times you forget what you’re talking about or fall down the stairs of an Air Force One plane. So good on Squibb for getting the lead in this film, and not only that, but she’s now essentially an action star too. Kind of. The movie consistently references Tom Cruise’s insane stunts that he does by himself, and I believe Squibb did all her own stunts in Thelma too, which involved walking, typing on a computer keyboard, riding a mobility scooter, going up the stairs, stepping over a lamp and knitting. Honestly it’s impressive stuff I tell ya.
Essentially this is The Beekeeper: Elderly Edition. Remember the Jason Statham action flick earlier this year where he played a beekeeper that goes on a revenge spree following his sweet landlord/friend committing suicide after being scammed out of $2 million by a phishing company. Naturally Statham was on glorious ass-kicking form and there was some thrilling and entertaining action set pieces. With Thelma it’s essentially the same thing, only instead of Statham it’s Squibb, so the process is a tad more slow with a more chill vibe. Look, straight away I should say I’m not the target audience here. This is very much for the type of crowd that went to see those Best Exotic Marigold Hotel films. They’re very sweet in nature, but are extremely melancholic and have that overly comforting factor where you do just want to afterwards go see your grandparents and give them the biggest hug. It helps that June Squibb is adorable in this film, as she has that old-school warmth to her, but also when she starts trying to save the day, you can’t help but want to root for her. Also all the scenes in her house were simply lovely. Think it was the mixture of the light yellow/orange lighting to the typical overly comfortable furniture with flowery designs and essentially a place that’s stuck in time so to speak. Again there’s that warmth to it that was utterly delightful.
The story itself was alright. Like it’s nothing special and I’d say in the middle it does meander a bit too much where I did find myself getting distracted, but overall it’s a very low stakes movie shot in high style that works. I really dug June Squibb’s interactions with her grandson played by Fred Hechinger, and their bond is the true core of the movie. It was the attention to the little details, like when the grandson’s parents are giving him crap about drinking and oversleeping, but when the grandson looks up at June Squibb she simply looks back at him lovingly with zero judgement and even gives a cheeky wink of assurance which was so sweet. I’ve unfortunately never got the chance to meet either of my grandparents as they had passed before I was born, so even though I haven’t had personal experience of this I still very much connected with the grandmother/grandson dynamic.
Thelma is a fun, impressively naturalistic and overwhelmingly earnest look at the idea of growth, both old and young, and the importance of family, and though it’s not a movie that breaks any new ground or will have me want to go out of my way to go see it again, I very much appreciated it’s innocent cosy nature. It’s a movie about a cool grandma - take it as you will.
Overall score: 6/10
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fanfic-collection · 2 years ago
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Loki x Reader: Soaked to the Bone
Just suggestive content, flirting, nothing really nsfw
longer than I thought it would be!
Prompt: You and Loki are neighbors in an apartment building, only knowing each other from passing in the hall, until one day full of bad luck you come in drenched from a sudden downpour, and he's there to help.
-
“Damn, damn, damn, damn.” You cursed over and over as you searched your bag for your keys. “Of all days.” Stealing a glance at the black sky, rain pouring down on you, you groaned and cursed some more.
As if to answer your predicament, a great flash of lightning arced across the sky, followed by a deafening boom moments later.
“Come on!” You yelled, punching the apartment door futilely.
More rain drenched you, gathering in a puddle beneath your feet as you angrily thought about someone installing an awning for the place. Anything to be out of the rain. And…
The door opened.
You blinked, fist still raised before slowly lowering it as you saw a man standing there.
“H-hi.” You stammered.
“Hello.” The man with long black hair replied, you’d only seen him in passing. “3B yes?”
“Yea…” You trailed off uncertainly, somehow forgetting the pouring rain. Your clothes were soaked to your skin and hair matted, almost as though you’d taken a shower.
“I’m Loki. 3A.” He added, then seemed to remember what he had come to the door for. Stepping aside, he gestured for you to enter.
Eyes wide and relief and gratitude flooding through you, much like the water on you, you stepped inside. A small puddle formed as Loki shut the door behind you.
Loki stared at you, asking a silent question.
“I lost my keys.” You muttered, reaching into your bag for your cellphone. “Oh, great, left my phone at home too.”
“Do you wish to use mine?” Loki offered. “I suppose you could wait in my apartment while you figure out your lock situation. If you want.” Loki’s mouth opened and shut then he frowned. “Apologies if I am being too forward.”
You smiled at him weakly, wiping some of your mop of wet hair from your face. “Yea, that’d be fantastic.” You told him your name as an afterthought.
The two of you walked to the stairs of your apartment and began the ascent.
“I’ve seen you in passing.” Loki admitted.
“Yea, me too, surprised we haven’t met though.”
“I have only occupied this building for a few months now.”
“It’s a nice one. The landlord isn’t horrible, and it’s not terribly priced.” You said, making small talk.
“A rarity, I’m told.”
You nodded. “No kidding.”
Loki reached into his pocket, pulling out a key and unlocking the door to 3A. You glanced over your shoulder at your own apartment, locked to you and just out of reach.
Stepping inside, you smiled at the simplicity of the place. Nothing particularly extravagant, not exactly cheap furniture either, somewhere in the middle. It struck you as odd how impersonable the place felt. As though someone else had decorated it and Loki was merely occupying a space.
“This place is nice.” You commented idly, standing in the doorway and slowly making a puddle. Noticing the puddle, you groaned inwardly, if you made too much of a mess… Not only would the landlord be angry, you imagined Loki wouldn’t appreciate it much either.
Loki reappeared carrying a bundle of towels and handed them to you. “Here.” He said stiffly.
“Oh, you don’t have to…” You trailed off, looking at the bundle longingly.
Loki smiled softly. “I insist.”
You quickly grabbed them and began squeezing your hair, trying to get the last of the water out. It really felt like you had just stepped out of the shower, except it was terribly cold. A shiver ran up your spine and you glanced at Loki.
His smile faded. “You’re going to catch a cold.”
You bit your lip for a moment. “I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense.” Loki vanished again.
Once again, moments later, he reappeared with a sweatshirt and a pair of baggy trousers that tied at the waist. They would engulf you, likely but you smiled at the Stark logo on the sweatshirt. “You a fan of Stark Industries then?” You asked, holding up the sweatshirt.
“Something like that.” Loki replied mildly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
Loki seemed to realize your hesitation and his cheeks blushed rouge. “Please, let me show you the bathroom. You can shower if you would like.” He glanced distastefully at the puddle you had made and motioned for you to follow.
“Sorry about the floor.” You mumbled, kicking your soaked shoes off.
“It is of no worry.” Loki responded, opening the bathroom door for you to enter. “Here. Use whatever you need.”
You held the sweatshirt and trousers out, away from your soaked clothes and tilted your head. You longed to hold them to your chest and stare at him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Can I not be kind to a neighbor of mine?”
“I mean sure. And I really appreciate it!” You quickly added.
“Then think nothing of it.”
You felt the overwhelming urge to tease him. He towered over you, shoulders fairly broad and a beautiful face. “Damsel in distress?” You offered, smiling, your own cheeks heating now.
Loki bowed his head slightly. “We can talk when you’re dry, and in no danger of getting sick.”
“I’d like that.”
He shut the bathroom door behind you and dragged yourself out of your soaked clothes. Ringing them out in the shower, you found a towel rod to hang them on to dry. It wouldn’t be much but at least you weren’t going to ruin his bathroom too.
Inside the shower, the hot water finally hit you and you let out a throaty sigh. There were plenty of products for your hair and body and as you snooped around, smelling each, you smiled. You thought about how they must smell on Loki, if you were close enough to him to… you shook your head clear. Stranger danger, right? That was a thing. You were alone, naked, and very exposed in your neighbor’s apartment that you had never actually met. He could be a creep! You didn’t believe yourself in the least though. He had been your knight in shining armor, saving you from the dreaded storm and giving you shelter.
Bundled in these warm thoughts, you cleaned yourself until a thick steam filled the room. Most of the time was spent feeling the hot water ease through you, the cold rain had drenched you to your bones.
When you finally felt warm again, and were clean, you stepped out of the shower and looked at your clothes, the offered clothes by Loki, and then your clothes again.
Licking your lip and then biting it nervously, you realized your undergarments had been soaked through by the rain.
Standing in the bathroom, still exposed, you sighed and took the plunge. Putting Loki’s trousers on and sweatshirt, leaving your other undergarments hanging to dry.
The material was so soft on your freshly showered skin, and the sweatshirt was thick enough to prevent your lack of bra from being too terribly noticeable. So you hoped.
Head wrapped in a towel still, you stepped out and made your way back to the main room of the apartment.
Loki was just standing, finally finishing cleaning up your puddle.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, I should’ve done that for you.” You moved over towards him, feeling rather exposed in his clothes, worried slightly about the trousers slipping.
Loki shook his head, though you couldn’t help but notice the slight darkening of his eyes. “It’s fine. Please, sit.”
You sank down on the couch and pulled your knees up to yourself. Your body was warm for other reasons now, warmer than even the shower could have made you.
Loki sat down opposite you, giving you space, though his knees were a mile apart and you couldn’t help noticing that as you forced yourself to look anywhere but there. A brief thought flashed through your mind as the soft trousers rubbed on your bare skin. You fought the urge to swallow hard, trying not to picture him wearing what you wore now. Or less. You slapped the thoughts away.
Loki seemed to be talking about something. And you realized you’d only heard the soft cadence of his voice, the deep rumble, and not taken in any of the words themselves.
“I’m so sorry.” You stammered. “I just spaced out, uh trying to think of where I could’ve left my keys.”
Loki chuckled. Another sound that sent a twinge through your body. “I was just trying to warn you that-” He was cut off by the door bursting open.
“Brother!” A built man with long blonde hair appeared in the doorway. He was not the least bit affected by the rain it appeared.
Though you did glance out the window to ascertain it was still raining. It was.
“Oh! Brother! I’m sorry.” The man in the door grinned knowingly. “I did not know you were entertaining a lady friend!”
Loki raised his eyebrows and smiled sardonically. “So it would appear.” Turning back to you, Loki added, “this is my brother.”
“I’m Thor! Pleasure to meet you.” He smiled, softening his voice from the booming tone.
“This is 3B.” Loki added by way of explanation.
“Ahh, yes, I had long wondered about that.”
You felt yourself grow shy, looking between the two brothers.
For a moment they bickered, clearly as brothers, before once more seemingly remembering you.
Thor grabbed the door once more and opened it. “We will speak again whence you have finished your evening.”
Loki nodded stiffly, closing the door behind him and shaking his head irritably as he sat down once more.
“What was that about?” You asked curiously.
“It is the one time of month that he and I attempt to … bond.”
“He seems, uh… unique.” You searched for the word.
“He’s not as oafish as he pretends to let on, unfortunately.”
You laughed. “I was wondering.”
Loki shook his head then said dryly, “he’s just trying to embarrass me.”
“Embarrass you how?”
Loki raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “Truly?”
You looked down at yourself and found the answer. A woman, in his apartment, otherwise alone, in his clothes. Your face flushed hot as you looked back at him, eyes wide. “I mean, I no…”
Loki chuckled, holding up his hand to stop you. “Think nothing of it, when you return to your apartment, it will be as it always has been.” He seemed to be more confirming to himself than you.
“I mean, it doesn’t have to be.”
Loki looked up. “Hmm?”
“I absolutely have to repay your kindness. And I’ll have to see you again to return these.”
“Keep them, a souvenir I suppose.”
You pulled the long sleeves up to your face to hide your goofy smile, breathing in the smell of him deeply. “Alright, yea, you should know you weren’t getting these back anyways.”
“Oh?”
You scooted closer on the couch, eyes locking until your leg touched his.
Loki looked down, beginning to move away, but you placed your hand on his thigh, gently encouraging him to stay in place. He looked back up, a small smile on his face when he saw you a hairsbreadth away from him.
You parted the distance, lips brushing against his in a soft kiss, before slowly pulling back.
“Perhaps we should get dinner sometime and talk over this further?” Loki murmured, his voice throaty.
You grinned. “I’d like that.”
Then the space between you was closed once more.
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pokemonshelterstories · 1 year ago
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Ok so fist off I wanted to give a big thank you to you and all the people at your poke-shelter! My uncle worked rehabilitating pokemon and (of course) he had a team of foster failures.
I mention this because my uncle passed away recently and It seems like I'm going to inherit his pokemon, and while they're all very sweet I would appreciate a few tips on the following if at all possible:
How do I keep a Tangrowth who was bred to produce hallucinogenic compounds in his ball? (he's prone to wandering and I'm really afraid the local officer Jenny is going to get the wrong idea about him!)
How to habituate my late uncle's blind and apparently mostly mute Toucannon that's prone to fainting out of anxiety to my apartment?(he's a shiny if that changes anything, though I've heard the wonky temparment thing is just a myth)
What's the best way to train an ataxic Ariados? (he's not in pain or distressed at all, but he's very wobbly and it gets more noticeable the more excited he gets)
What are the best kind of enrichment toys for a cognitively impaired Tyrantrum?
Is there a way to keep a Medicham off the roof of my apartment's roof without my landlord hating me?
How long does it take a Torracat to understand that I am not in fact remotely harming it's comrades when I put them in their pokeballs and he does not need to piss on my shoes as a protest?
Sorry to drop all of this on you, my uncle was a wonderful man, but I guess instruction manuals weren't exactly his strong suit!
Thank you again for all you do!
i'm sorry to hear about your uncle passing away. and unfortunately, these are almost all extremely difficult cases to handle. unless you have had experience working with difficult pokemon, i would highly recommend rehoming them. the tangrowth, toucannon, ariados, and tyrantrum are all going to require specialized care beyond what i can give advice on.
as far as the medicham and the torracat, those are issues that can be fixed by working together with a vet and a behaviorist. again, unless you've had experience handling behavioral cases before, you really need to talk to someone who can see the pokemon in person and help with that. the medicham likely is in need of more enrichment; medicham is a pokemon that really *does* need to battle to be happy. as for the torracat, a vet visit needs to be your priority. pokemon do not urinate inappropriately to "protest" things. your torracat is either experiencing some sort of medical issue (in fire types this sort of problem is often caused by ash consumption), or is so stressed that it's manifesting physically. either way, this needs a vet.
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molonara · 1 year ago
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Life update:
So my life has been very hectic, and what was supposed to be a transition to me living in a new apartment and getting started on commissions has been put on hold because just found out the damaged popcorn ceiling has Asbestos that I may have been exposed to.
For those of you waiting for more art on my part, I will need some more time to sort things out.
Details and venting under the cut. If anyone has advice I will take it.
So yeah, I got a nice apartment that I've not fully moved into because getting furniture into the space has been a trial. But now I don't feel safe at all to fully move in and sleep there knowing that the ceiling contains 6 percent of Chrysotile Asbestos, which wouldn't be complete issue if it was properly sealed and non damaged, but in the kitchen that isn't the case, as when I go into the apartment I noticed that there was a damaged and cracked patch of it on the ceiling. Having heard that popcorn ceiling could contain Asbestos I contacted my landlord on the matter. He sent over some local health inspector consultants to take a sample of the spot. Unfortunately, as I later learned, these people were as familiar with dealing with Asbestos, and their extraction method did a number of things wrong: Mainly they did not where protective masks (opting instead to hold their breath), they did not properly wet the extraction area (which I later learned is what professionals do to avoid kicking up Asbestos), and finally they vacuumed the debris with what I suspect was a vacuum without a proper filter (HEPA filters are what professionals use and talking with this inspector he didn't seem aware that there was a specific filter for treating Asbestos and double checking the type of vacuum they used, that model cannot have HEPA filter installed). So I am very much fearful that given I was present when they were doing this, and because there was damage present to begin with, that I have been exposed and breathed in this toxic material. Additionally, trying to negotiate with my landlord to get the air quality of the apartment tested, filtered and the ceiling encapsulated by a QUALIFIED Abatement professional, is proving to be a bit difficult as be believes (talking to the initial albeit incompetent investigators) that testing air quality and filters isn't needed. I've at least convinced him that he need to contact an actual Asbestos Abatement contractor to repair the ceiling and clear the apartment of any lingering contaminates, but ultimately what happens will be up to him. As for me, I at least have people I've been staying with in the mean time but I cannot stay with them forever, and my things are now moved into that apartment and the prospect of either leaving them there or having to move everything out again is giving me such anxiety and dread. I'm not sure what to do if the landlord doesn't proceed as I would like, if I should take legal action or not. Stuffs been so fudged. And on top of all that, a coworker of mine tested positive for Covid and came to work anyway without a mask on. I CANNOT GET SICK NOW ON TOP OF EVERYTHING!?
If anyone has any advice for me in this situation, I would appreciate it.
I just want a place that's clean and stress free so I can make art for a living, is that so much to ask?
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apocryphalwriting · 1 year ago
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Writblr Intro
About Me
My pen name is D. Augen (they/them). Feel free to call me Augen, D, or whatever nickname you like.
Early 20s
I'm just looking for a place to put my words down.
About My Writing
I love fantasy, and it seems to be the only thing my mind finds writing about worthwhile.
My biggest work is my favorite type of world to write about, completely original worlds with no true connection to ours. A story set somewhere that isn't Earth or the fantasy realm we often see in D&D with their races and ideas about them set in their ways. You can find words and ideas reminiscent of those ideas in my writing, but I want it to feel like they were inspired, rather than copy and pasted with minor details changed. I hope I am able to achieve that vision.
I love reading almost more than writing, I can see the story and it's just intoxicating. Please point me to your favorite one, if you feel so inclined. My favorite genres are drama, comedy, and romance.
I have something people like to term as Worldbuilder's Disease, meaning I world build more than I write. If I could just make characters as complex as worlds, then I would. :v
I'm terrible at naming things so title ideas are much appreciated as well.
Most of my writing is exploratory, the ideas that come from people who are looking for... something.
Exploratory - Meaning that I like to write about different things, recently I've been on a kick of yandere. The idea of love becoming toxic is an interesting concept that I'd like to explore further.
Generally, I'm hoping to find likeminded people to help inspire me to write and then write more.
My WIPs
Blue
My biggest WIP at the moment, I plan on creating a long series with this idea, but all of it is in the worldbuilding phase.
No really, I've been worldbuilding this WIP for 3 years.
I basically created the entire world before the story, so any details you'd like to ask about, I'm more than happy to share.
I based the history of the world on our own history to give the idea more realism.
It starts with Rosemary, the protagonist coming home from the market to find her house and farm burning down. So, she, being a responsible tenant, goes to tell her landlord to do something about it. Before she leaves, a stranger appears almost out of nowhere and offers to help her to her next destination and reasonable protection. What happens next? I don't really know either, let's find out together :>
This is my most ambitious project so it's probably not going to happen. But at least I got it out there.
Dragon World
This is pretty bare bones since I've got nothing but characters in here.
The themes I'm hoping to use are power and how people deal with/interact/are affected by it, either directly or indirectly.
This is one where I'd like to write about but my instinct wants to make more world for the characters to interact with.
Other WIPS
Yamoris Academy - Horror-Romance with supernatural elements
Vampire World - Another story about power but more about inherently unfair power dynamics between people. Tawny is the mc, she's a little mean if you ask me. But she always does what she thinks is best.
OC - Victoria Banerjee - She doesn't have anywhere but she is an OC who decided to tell me she existed.
Feel free to ask about anything listed above, I'm just looking for people who talk about writing and people to talk about writing with.
Take care out there y'all.
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bizarre-brew · 1 year ago
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[Molly] "Good morning, Bug." [Bug] "Hey, Mama." [Molly] *laughs* "You can't keep calling me that."
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[Bug] "Where are the kids?" [Molly] "They're both at school. It's Monday, you know?" [Bug] "Already?"
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[Molly] "Speaking of school, nice shorts. Did you take my advice? Are you applying to Foxbury?" [Greta] "Of course not, he stole those."
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[Bug] "I didn't steal them. I couldn't find my jeans so I borrowed them." [Indie] "He just got home before you showed up." [Bug] "I don't appreciate that judgmental tone."
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[Indie] "It's not judgment, I worry about you, Buggy. How was your weekend?" [Bug] "I don't remember."
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[Bug] "I need a shower, I feel gross." [Indie] "The landlord came by on Friday, so we have hot water." [Bug] "Siiiiiick..."
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[Greta] "Can we talk before you run off?" [Bug] "What's up?" [Greta] "Do you think you can pay me and Indie back before you burn through all your lotto money?"
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[Bug] "There's too much for you to be worrying about that. I can send it to you in a minute though, just let me get my phone." [Greta] "Why are you still on our couch when you could live like a Landgraab?" [Bug] "I didn't wanna mention it until it was a sure thing, but I've been looking at property. I'll be out by the end of the season." [Indie] "You're buying a house?" [Bug] "Nah, it's better than that. I'm gonna run a motel."
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[Indie] "Oh my god..." [Greta] "Molly, stop him." [Molly] "Why me?" [Greta] "He respects you." [Bug] "What's the problem? I've traveled so much and now I can be the guy with the cool place people stay at during their travels. It's my dream."
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[Indie] "You have never brought this up as something you'd want to do." [Bug] "I don't tell you guys everything." [Greta] "I don't believe that you're capable of keeping anything to yourself ever." [Bug] "Molly, you're supportive of my dreams, right?" [Molly] "Uh... Dreams are great to have but I'm still team get an education." [Bug] *scoffs*
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[Indie] "You know that you can be very impulsive-" [Bug] "This isn't me being impulsive, I've thought about it a lot." [Indie] "How many times have you said that about things you instantly regretted?" [Bug] "I mean it this time." [Indie] "Buggy, I say this with love. You are not built for customer service."
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[Bug] "What the fuck does that mean? I've gotten way better about my temper and talking to people." [Indie] *sigh* [Greta] "In what way are you better? You're getting mad now and I haven't noticed any change in the way you talk to people." [Bug] "I am not mad." [Greta] "You are." [Bug] *deep breath* "I am buying the motel, you're welcome to visit when it opens or not. I don't care. Now, I'm gonna drink my tea and go soak in the bath."
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[Greta] "Send me that money before you do anything else." [Bug] *slams the bathroom door* [Indie] "This is going to be a mess." [Molly] "On the bright side, he does work best when he's doing something out of spite or to prove a point. It might be okay."
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5 notes · View notes
cosmossystem · 29 days ago
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Hey I was just asking about the anti-psychiatry because I was confused from reading your pinned post. I don't know if I worded my ask wrong or something but your response was really mean and very assuming of my intentions. I'm sorry if my ask hurt you, I wasn't trying to invalidate your stance or anything.
But "you ask this like therapy is some universal cure all" I never said that nor do I believe that. I was being as nice as possible and I was just curious. And the duh at the end feels like you're talking down to me. Like I'm an idiot for asking. I was asking out of pure curiosity. Where I live, there isn't a lot of knowledge on mental health or treatment. I'm not very informed about the history of the psychiatry field or anything, I just wanted to know your opinion since you seemed more informed from your pinned post.
Thanks for taking the time to explain and answer my ask. I'm sorry.
But "you ask this like therapy is some universal cure all" I never said that nor do I believe that
when you ask the question "Do you not believe in therapy or meds?"-- that is passively phrased as if to assume i do not believe in therapy/medication, which is not true nor should it be assumed of me, ergo yes, my knee-jerk reaction is a little justified, because nowhere does being anti-psych imply that i would be against the treatment of mental illness. anti-psych means exactly what it sounds like: anti-psych industry. not anti-mental illness, not anti-recovery, not anti-therapy. i am anti-psych industry as a whole, because just like every other industry, it requires heavy reform.
And the duh at the end feels like you're talking down to me. Like I'm an idiot for asking. I was asking out of pure curiosity.
i mean, yeah, sure. i guess it just seems very obvious to me why a minority would be against the industry that oppresses them. like i said-- do you also ask black people why they're anti-police? do you ask homeless people why they're anti-landlord? because if you are even remotely leftist, it feels obvious how to put two and two together. these causes are linked, and it is well-known that medical fields are not kind or understanding to mentally or physically ill people. ergo, it seems obvious why someone who has been open about having stigmatized mental illnesses would be against the industry that is harmful to them. it isn't really rocket science. it is basic leftist and anarchist knowledge 101.
i didn't intend to make you feel like an idiot. i guess i just forget not everyone has been in leftist circles enough to be completely educated on anti-capitalism. but i also don't really feel like my response was that bad, either. you just seem like someone who isn't really well educated, and that's fine. you admit as much.
i am not the first nor the last person to talk about why the psychiatric industry is bad, and i don't really talk about it here, so mostly i was just confused why you would come to me on the matter when something like this is very commonly spoken about in mental health circles, and much better explained by people who aren't me.
and with that said,
I'm not very informed about the history of the psychiatry field or anything, I just wanted to know your opinion since you seemed more informed from your pinned post.
i do genuinely appreciate that you view me as knowledgeable, because it is one of the few things i take pride in. i have a long history of involvement with mental health & disability activism, so anything that seems like it could be an attack sort of sets me off. sorry that my tone upset you. in the future, i would be more than happy to give you a more in-depth answer than my first one was. i admit it probably wasn't the best answer i could have given, but i really did think you were trying to be a thinly-veiled asshole about it. people often do that around here, where they pretend to be "genuinely open-minded" only to follow up with a provocation, and that was my assumption from your ask.
I'm sorry.
you don't need to apologize because you have nothing to apologize for, but i hope you can see why i was a bit miffed by the whole thing. it's mostly that one line ("Do you not believe in therapy or meds?") that made me assume your ask was back-handed sarcasm, or bait of some kind.
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pamplemousse666 · 5 months ago
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I’ve noticed you’ve been struggling for a while now. And like for a minute I got genuinely scared. It seemed like you had hit an all time low and I didn’t know what to do or how to even begin to approach it. But lately, it seems like you’ve taken a big step towards happiness. Idk. It’s clear that you’re definitely still struggling but I’ve seen a change. Or at least I hope I have. And all I really wanted to say was that I’m really rooting for you. If you ever feel like nobody cares I want to say that I care. Sorry if this is awkward. I’m bad with words 😓
I appreciate you for being so kind.💚
The last few months have been really fucking hard. I had an apartment that I loved for about two months, but a water leak caused so much damage that the landlord gave me my deposit back and terminated the lease. I was staying with my brother while looking for a new place, but then he kicked me out (after living on my couch/in my living room for the last 7 years). So I've been going back and forth between sleeping in my car and sleeping at my Mom's place, but she's an alcoholic and I hate being around her when she's drunk so most of the time staying in my car is just the better option. Her health has declined so much that I worry about her constantly but there is nothing I can do about it.
Work has been miserable, lately I feel like I'm one of the only staff members that actually cares about our patients and clients. Last week I caught two of our nurses (one of them is our head LVT) talking shit about me for trying to advocate for a patient that was going into respiratory distress. I feel so defeated every day, and now I'm starting to get the feeling that management is trying to find a way to let me go. I'm afraid I'm going to be homeless and jobless in the near future.
On top everything else, my dog Indie has had some serious health issues lately and I can barely afford her care even though I work at an emergency vet. I don't mean to be dramatic, but Indie is the ONLY good thing I have in my life and literally the only reason I haven't tried to kms yet. I don't know what I would do if I lost her.
I AM at an all time low. But I know nothing will get better unless I work to make it better, no one is going to come save me. And I'm just So Fucking Tired of being angry and sad all of the time. So I am doing my best to stay positive, even if right now it feels like I'm faking it.
I'm sorry for writing out such a long, depressing response. Nothing about your message was awkward, and you aren't bad with words at all. I really appreciate you noticing the effort I've made lately and taking the time to reach out.
Thank you for rooting for me.💚
Thank you for caring at all.💚
I promise to keep trying.💚
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bvckys-doll · 3 years ago
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Masquerade
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Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
Word count: 4.4k
Summary: Y/N and her family are invited to a masquerade ball since Netherfield hall has a new owner: Lord James Buchanan Barnes. What (Y/N) does not know is that this will be her last night among the living. 
Warnings: soft!dark themes here! A bit of manipulation. Blood! Pride and Prejudices vibes at the beginning of the fic.
Author’s note: I’m happy that I can finally post this one because I’m a whore for masquerade balls and vampires! Especially Vampire!Bucky! This goes out to @emily-roberts (who can’t be tagged unfortunately) since they inspired me to work on Masquerade here! Maybe this will get a sequel, i’m not sure yet.
You can find my masterlist here!
The year is 1867. Queen Victoria is still in power, and the country is at peace. At least, to the people who are lucky enough to live in the countryside in England. Especially the women who were the ones that learned the least of the ongoing problems around the world. At this time in history, they were mostly excluded from these kinds of conversations. Something (Y/N) was deeply offended by.
Most of the women around her had only one thing on their mind: the latest gossip and men.
Nothing would fit better into the gossip than a mysterious lord who had recently moved into the large estate near Netherfield Park. The whole city was in turmoil, and everyone wanted to get one of the coveted invitations to the grand inauguration party.
(Y/N) could still remember the day a few weeks ago when her mother was running around the house in a rage and talking to herself over and over again. Her father had tried to ignore his wife as much as possible.
“I have heard from Mrs. Brenstock that the new Lord of Netherfield Park is about to give a ball. A ball, Mr. Edwards! Can you imagine that? He doesn’t seem to have sent out any invitations yet, otherwise, we would have gotten one by now, wouldn’t we? Tell me I’m right” she had let herself sink into her chair. With the thick needle in her hand, she repeatedly stabbed her new embroidery cloth.
(Y/N) had been sitting across from her mother at the time and hardly noticed her rambling about the ball, as the young lady was too absorbed in her thoughts about her newest book, which was on the table in front of her.
For her mother, this was finally the chance to marry her off to a rich man. Perhaps even to the owner of the estate himself, since many speculated him to be single. Most women of (Y/N)’s age were already married, some even had children.
It wasn’t that (Y/N) wasn’t very talkative. If she was given a suitable subject, she could chat for hours, but her mother had always preached to her that no man wanted a woman with a loud attitude. Despite all this, (Y/N) didn’t kept her mouth shut and spoke freely about what she thought. Mostly.
It had been a month since that conversation between her parents and (Y/N) was now sitting with them in a carriage on their way to the estate of the new lord of Netherfield Park.
The letter had arrived about two days after the long discussion between her mother and her quiet father. (Y/N) seemed to be more relieved than her mother because she couldn’t bear her constant chatting and complaining about the ball.
In her lap was a white mask that her mother had brought home a few days ago. A masquerade. That was the order of the new landlord. An unusual way to celebrate a party, where you wanted to get to know the locals better, but (Y/N) didn’t put much thought into it.
With a calm look, she peered out of the window of the carriage and could see how the estate grew in the distance. The lights were shining through the high windows towards them as they rode the carriage to the large courtyard, where some other women were already getting out of their carriages and ascending the great marble staircase with their families.
Her father was the first to go out of the carriage, before he helped his wife out. In the end, he reached out to his daughter. For a brief moment, (Y/N) struggled with the wide skirt of her dress, before standing firmly on the ground.
Once again, she let her gaze wander over the courtyard and looked up at the broad facade of the estate. Suddenly (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a silhouette. Someone who seemed to be looking down at them and was watching what was going on. But before (Y/N) could take a closer look, her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her into the hall.
~
Upstairs in the said room, James watched how the carriages gathered in the courtyard and presented the different guests of almost every status. All came to see some of the wealth of the estate and the treasures that were on display in its halls.
“How many people will visit us tonight? Take a guess” Steve asked him. He was sitting at his best friend’s desk and had put his feet on the tabletop while he leaned back.
James’s gaze was still on the staircase as his gaze followed the woman who had just looked up at him. Yet he replied, “More than two hundred, I would say. Enough to get our bellies full for the next month. You’re going to keep them under control, aren’t you? We need posts at every door.”
“Of course. I’ve never worked sloppy before. You should know that”, Steve winked at him before he stood up and drained the last remaining blood out of his cup. The next moment he pulled some gloves out of his jacket and put them on “But answer me one. Why a masquerade?”
“You don’t want anyone to remember us by mistake, do you?”, a dark smile grazed James features. A similar smile came up on Steve’s face before he pulled the mask over his eyes and left.
~
In the meantime, the large ballroom of the estate had filled with guests and a small orchestra on a raised balcony played quiet music.
With all the hustle, (Y/N) wondered if she would even recognize anyone. The masks just made it harder to spot anyone she knew. Maybe she could get away from her mother. Time and time again she looked for familiar eyes.
Nervously, she again smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt and chewed around her lower lip. With each breath, it seemed to her as if the corsage of her dress was still lacing up.
Before her inner rambling could cause her to make her more uncomfortable, the hitting of a staff made the crowd go quiet. Everyone held their breath and turned to the source of the voice “Please welcome Lord James Buchanan Barnes and Colonel Steven Grant Rogers!”
The guests applauded in honour of the two men who were standing on a raised platform at the end of the hall. One of them stepped forward and raised his wine glass. (Y/N) couldn’t make out his features. Still, he wore a fancy dark suit with a wine-red tie. His slightly longer hair was tied with a ribbon in the back of his head. Although (Y/N) couldn’t see his eyes, they seemed pitch black.
“It is an honour to welcome you all to my new home. Until now, I have been welcomed with kindness in this beautiful little town and I am very happy to get to know you all better soon. I haven’t even lived here for a month, but it already feels like home to me. Let us all enjoy this evening. Sing, laugh and dance!”, his voice echoed through the room. It gave (Y/N) goosebumps.
He raised his glass to which his guests responded with the same gesture before they all took a sip of their drinks. It took less than five seconds, and the conversations were resumed. It was as if that greeting had never happened.
But (Y/N) could not take her eyes of her host. This was the person she had previously seen standing at the window. Before she could look away from him, he had already noticed her and seemed to reply to her stare. She tensed.
She hastily looked at the wine glass in her hand, from which she quickly took a short sip. The music started again. This time a bit louder than before because the guests began to dance. It wouldn’t take long for her mother to approach her once again and tell her daughter to find a suitable dance partner for the night.
~
“Do you see that woman over there? The one in the red dress and the white mask”, Bucky walked next to Steve as they made their way through the guests, who all respectfully stepped aside and bowed. Again and again, the two nodded to some people appreciatively.
Steve followed his friend’s gaze unobtrusively and nodded briefly “Pretty little thing. Do you want to go play or save her all to yourself for the night?”
“I haven’t decided yet, but I am sure going to do something with her”, he winked at Steve and stopped at the edge of the dance floor, watching his guests dance. Shortly thereafter, Steve also left him to dance with his wife Margaret, who approached them.
While his friends were busy having fun at the party, James resumed his search for the woman he had just spotted. It did not take long for him to find her her standing next to an elderly couple, who seemed to have an exciting conversation with two other guests. The woman herself didn’t seem very interested in the conversation and kept sipping on her glass. That was his cue.
~
(Y/N) gave out a soft sigh and investigated her wine glass, which would soon be empty. She listened with one ear to the conversation of her parents but did not attempt to participate herself. The unknown woman just boasted how her daughter had married a wealthy man from Oxford some time ago and now lived there. (Y/N) was already getting ready for a sermon from her mother.
Once again, the young woman raised her glass to her red lips as suddenly-
“Excuse me if I bother you but would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” said a deep voice to her, which seemed quite familiar to (Y/N). Her gaze wandered from her glass to the chest of the man standing before her. Her breath was stunted. It was Lord Barnes looking down at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He held out his hand to her, but (Y/N) couldn’t take her eyes off him.
For a moment, it seemed as if (Y/N) had forgotten to have a normal and decent conversation when her mother stepped in and tore the glass out of her hand “She would be honoured to dance with you, Lord Barnes.”
A charming smile spread across his lips as her mother said so. But he turned his gaze to (Y/N) again and asked for her approval “I hope that is indeed the case.”
(Y/N) blinked. Once, twice.
“Yes, I would very much like to dance with you”, she now agreed herself and took his hand, which he still held out to her. He gently drew her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand “What a relieve.”
It was not only her mother who lost her breath at this gesture. Like in a trance, (Y/N) followed her new dance partner onto the wide dance floor, where people automatically made room for them in awe. Soon he stopped with her in the middle of the dance floor and pulled her to his chest, where she instinctively assumed her posture and placed her hand on his shoulder.
Slowly the music started anew. A slow waltz. Controlled, he guided her through the room, and it seemed as if (Y/N) had never done anything else in her life. Every step was exactly as it should be. It was as if they were floating over the dance floor. At least, it seemed like that to her.
“I hope I didn’t take you by surprise”, James remarked, looking down at his dance partner, who focused her eyes on his chest. The reason behind it was the fact that he was a lot taller than her.
Hastily (Y/N) shook her head as her cheeks heated up “Not at all, my lord. I was just surprised, that’s all. There are so many beautiful young women here, I wondered why you chose me.”
“Why shouldn’t I? I have just chosen the prettiest in the room”, James replied, presenting her his charming smile, which made his eyes light up for a second. (Y/N)’s knees got soft. It seemed liked she had been enchanted by his aura.
It wasn’t long before the music became quieter and stopped. Together with the other couples, they stopped and applauded the musicians before James gave her his arm and whispered to her “Would you like to accompany me outside? It seems to be getting a little stuffy in here.”
A lie. It’s been years since James truly breathed air.
“I would love to.”, (Y/N) nodded and took shelter with her host before following him out onto the wide terrace. On their way there, (Y/N) did not notice James meeting the eyes of one of his men. It was Sam who stood near the exit and smiled at his friend. He knew James had found someone new to play with. If only it were for tonight.
“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” James looked up to the sky, where thousands of stars were glowing. It was more common here in the countryside. In the cities, the stars could be barely seen by the smoke rising through the chimneys into the sky.
(Y/N) followed his gaze and leaned forward against the wide stone railing. She nodded back, “Yes, it is. You haven’t seen such a sight very often, have you? I mean, I heard you moved out of town. What prompted you to do this?”
“The war and tranquillity I am looking for”, James replied honestly this time and turned his gaze back to (Y/N), who was still looking up at the stars, but noticed how he looked at her with his eyes: “You haven’t told me your name yet.”
“You didn’t ask for it either”, (Y/N) replied quick and smiled.
Oh, she’s cheeky. I like that.
He laughed for a moment and neck before he asked, “May I know your name, milady?”
At last, she looked at him again and her eyes shone as she replied with a smile, “My name is (Y/N). And I’m not a lady, my lord.”
The tension she had felt before in his presence was blown away. She felt comfortable in his presence, but she couldn’t explain why. He radiated a certain calmness that made her feel safe and comfortable.
He tilted his head to the side as he smiled, “The name suits you. But tell me, (Y/N), why would a pretty woman like you be alone with your parents at a party like this? There must be a man in your life.”
“Why? Because a woman like me needs a man?” she answered with a counter-question. She wondered how long he would put up with it. But it seemed that the remark would excited him more.
He raised an eyebrow, to which she smiled briefly and replied honestly, “I have a mind of my own, as my mother says. Most men don’t like this feature very well. In our small town, they want a woman who makes a man look good. She has to be pretty and smart, but not too smart for her to make the man look stupid. She needs to be educated, but not waste too much time on it. The piano is very popular with most men.”
“Women who only deal with the latest gossip have never really interested me. Besides, I like to talk to women who can keep up with my intellect. Someone like you”, James replied honestly again, leaning his hip against the stone wall to take a close look at her.
As (Y/N) fixed her posture to look him right in the eye, he stepped foward. He gently raised his hand and put his index finger under her chin to raise it so that she could not take her eyes off of him, “Men can be stubborn, especially English men. But we Americans love it when a woman has something more on her mind than piano notes and pretty clothes. How boring it would be to have someone with you who only agrees with everything you say. I have met lots of these women, but I have seldom encountered someone like you.”
Smiling, (Y/N) held his gaze as he took his hand from her chin and took her hand in his. She looked down for a moment but did not attempt to let go.
“You’re the first man to say something like that to me, and you seem to mean it”, she smiled and briefly squeezed his hand. From the gloves he was wearing, she didn’t even notice how cold they were. Once again, he put her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, “I am glad to see my presence and my personality please you, Lady (Y/N).”
“As I said, I’m not a lady”, she laughed softly as her cheeks heated up once more. The smile on his lips made her knees soft again, “To me, you are one.”
With every moment that passed, he liked the young woman more and more. Something he didn’t expect. It was selfish, but he knew then and there he wouldn’t let her go. Not as fast as he had planned. It would be difficult to inspire her for eternity once he had done it.
A life like him could also be lonely and desolate. Many souls had already gone mad after being transformed and being unable to return to the world of the living. It drove them mad. He wouldn’t let his (Y/N) go crazy. Not so easily.
“My Lord?” her sweet voice tore him from the thoughts that were swirling through his head. His gaze fell back on her as she gave him a worried look. He gently brushed a strand of her hair from her face and smiled calmly, “Forgive me, I was in my head.”
“Do you think maybe we should go back to the hall? Your guests would also like to exchange a few words with you. I don’t want to besiege you forever”, (Y/N) glanced over her bare shoulder and looked at the tinted glass doors that shielded her from the guests. Many couples were on the dance floor together and seemed cheerful.
“I think my guests will be able to be just fine without my constant presence for a while. Besides, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to spend some more time with you”, he replied, following her gaze briefly before turning her gaze to him.
It seemed almost supernatural to (Y/N) that a man like Lord Barnes would take such an interest in her, but it was mutual. She didn’t want to leave him. Not yet. She was delighted with his company and gave him a warm smile before she replied, “And it would be a lie if I said I am not pleased by your interest.”
A burst of hearty laughter came over James' lips. It had been a long time since he had heard such words that had truly touched him. Smiling, he held her hand that was still in his, before leading (Y/N) from the terrace into the wide garden, where many lanterns illuminated their path.
(Y/N) had already placed her hand on his arm and followed him through the small maze that stood in the middle of the garden. The tall hedges shielded them from curious eyes as they disappeared deeper and deeper into the maze.
“My parents will probably be wondering where I am”, (Y/N) smiled as she followed James through the hedges, still holding his hand tightly in fear she could lose him. Apparently, he knew his way around the maze very well, for he guided them safely to a small square that marked the middle of the maze.
In the middle of the square stood a beautifully decorated pavilion, clad in red and white roses and ivy trees. James led her there and sat down with her on one of the two benches.
“Your parents know you’re in good hands with me. I would never allow anything…bad to happen to you”, James merely replied. (Y/N) couldn’t have known that evil himself was still holding her hand and concealing his cruel nature with a pretty face. He could feel her heartbeat speeding up a bit.
“You know, (Y/N), a life like mine. . . is very lonely”, he told her, looking at the flowers hanging next to him on a pole. Yet he noticed how her gaze stuck to him. In a calm voice he continued, “Although I am very wealthy and have seen so much of the world, I have been missing someone to share this life with for years. Someone who accepts me for who I am and doesn’t want to be with me just for my money and my land. Do you understand what I mean?”
His gaze fell back on her. (Y/N)’s eyes almost pierced through his head as her eyes turned glassy. A soft sigh escaped her as she gazed down into her lap.
“I understand you very well. Even though my mother’s efforts are straining me a lot, I still want someone who. . . likes me for me. Who wants me. Not for my dowry, but for myself. I have never spoken to someone who understands me as well. . . as you do”, she replied, being astonished at her words.
James Barnes was the first man she could talk to without having to pretend. Her slightly rough nature had not deterred him. He had been tenacious, but still kind and attentive. It’s been a long time since she met someone like him. His personality seemed to drew her even closer to him. As if there was an invisible ribbon, which now tied her to him.
“You are so much more than just your dowry and a pretty face, (Y/N). Maybe it’s too hasty, but it would be a pleasure for me to get to know you better. The real (Y/N), who doesn’t have to act and doesn’t want to impress anyone. I already know you a little, but. . . not quite yet”, he stroked her cheek, giving her goosebumps. In a good way.
A short smile grazed her lips as she put her hand on his, “I would also like to get to know you better, my lord.”
“Please call me James. The title is too formal for me”, he smiled gently at her and ran his thumb over her cheekbones as (Y/N) muttered softly, “As you wish,…James.”
Slowly, he noticed her pulse increasing. He looked her in the eyes again as he got closer, and she could feel his cold breath on her skin. For a brief moment, it seemed like a dream to her, but it became reality at the moment as his lips touched hers. (Y/N) froze. She wasn’t expecting that. Not yet.
Immediately he broke away from the kiss and pulled his hand from her cheek, “Sorry, that was a little too hasty of me.”
If there was still blood flowing through his body, he’d be blushed. For the first time in a long time, he seemed nervous and ran his fingers through his hair. But (Y/N) grabbed his hand and shook her head calmly, “No, please. I was just…surprised that you…feel that way about me.”
“You’re just…so different. In a positive way, of course”, he held her hand and squeezed it briefly once when (Y/N) was the one who came a little closer and leaned forward, “No, you must forgive me. I didn’t mean to reject you. I like you…very much.”
Now James knew it was the right time.
Slowly he leaned over to her and kissed her gently on the mouth. Sighing her eyes closed as the young lady returned his kiss a little cautiously. After all, he had more experience in it than she did. But only now did (Y/N) realize how cold he was. It’s almost freezing.
“James, you’re so cold”, (Y/N) gently detached herself from the kiss and held her lips as he stroked her cheek and put a strand behind her ear: “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to worry about.”
Once again, he conquered her lips and pulled her closer to his chest. A little more courageously, (Y/N) grabbed the collar of his suit and pulled him closer. She closed her eyes again as he slowly continued to kiss her but wandered from her cheek down to her throat. Her eyes remained closed as she enjoyed his kisses on her warm skin. His lips were still cold, but now she did not seem to care anymore.
Soon he could hear her rapid heartbeat as he lavished kisses on her neck. (Y/N) did not notice how his eyes darkened and his teeth stretched into pointed pillars.
For a moment, James wrestled with himself over whether he should really kill her or go even further. Still, one thing was very clear. (Y/N) would never see the light of day again.
"Forgive me." he breathed against her soft skin and closed his eyes before placing his hand over her mouth. Before (Y/N) could even realize what was happening to her, he rammed his teeth into her neck. Her scream was stifled by his hand, but her body didn't give up so quickly. Panicked, she pushed and pounded against his chest as James sucked the blood from her body. But all her attempts did her no good, as he was far too strong for her.
Finally, she slumped lifelessly in his arms and sank against his chest. Sighing, James detached himself from her neck and pressed another soft kiss to the wound where his teeth had pierced her skin moments ago.
Gently he laid the young woman on the bench and pushed her hair out of her face. Carefully he untied the ribbon at the back of her head and pulled the mask from her face.
"Just as I imagined, my darling..." he ran his thumb over her lower lip and looked into her lifeless eyes before pulling his own mask off his face and tossing it on the floor beside him.
He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand, "I'll take care of you, my angel. No one will ever be able to hurt you again. We'll be together forever."
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feiwelinchen · 3 years ago
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How Tsukishima would react when you bring home a kitten
Tsukishima Kei x reader (I’m not sure I’m using pronouns, but I wrote it for a f!reader)
Warnings: angst, Tsuki is an idiot; this is my first post, so I don’t know what else I should warn you about; English is not my first language; copy pasted it from Word, sorry if the layout or such is messed up.
Word Count: 2k
I upload it on ao3 as well. Please don’t repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated
I don’t own Haikyuu or the characters
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You heard the click of the lock just before the front door opened and closed. Then the rattle of keys hitting the glass of the bowl by the door.
"I'm home." Tsukishima's voice rang through the apartment. He furrowed his brow when there was no answer. Your shoes were in the small genkan; you should be home. "I said I'm home!" He repeated himself; it wasn't like you not to answer. Tsukishima entered the light living room.
And there you were, sitting on the couch, hunched over and looking absolutely guilt-ridden.
"What did you do?", Tsukishima's annoyance was clear as day. He knew that look on your face. It was the exact look you had that day you broke his favourite dinosaur cup. The same look, when you ate all the strawberry chocolate while on your period, the particular look you wore the day you confessed to him.
 You were still in high school back then, but you had known Tsukishima Kei for a few years already since you have been seated next to him on your first day in middle school. He became your friend first, but after a year of friendship, he became your first love. Your only love, for that matter. You kept it quiet, though. You knew how he could be and how this revelation might alter your dynamic. So you kept your mouth shut as long as you could. But at the end of your second year at Karasuno, you couldn't keep it in any longer. You met him on the rooftop, and he stopped the moment he saw you. Your face was tilted to the left, your lower lip between your left canines. Your brows were ever so slightly furrowed, with your tear trimmed eyes looking upwards directly into his soul.
"Even though this might destroy our friendship", you started, "even though you might never talk to me again after that."
"I-", Tsukishima starts but was immediately interrupted.
"Please." You stammered. "Let me finish before I lose my courage and become the coward I am again."
"You're not a coward.", his voice was stern.
"Tsuki. Please." And to your surprise, he kept his mouth shut. "Even… even though you will probably laugh at me or make fun of me or whatever… I have to tell you because I can't anymore." You took a deep breath. "Tsukishima Kei." He straightened at his full name. "I'm in love with you. And I have been for four years already. And I know you don't like me like that, and that's fine. I don't expect anything, and I really want to stay friends. But if you can't, I understand. I just… needed you to know. I needed you to know how I feel." Your facial expression hadn't changed throughout all of this. "You can say something now, Tsuki." Your mumble barely reached him. "Please say something.", you pleaded after a few more moments of deafening silence.
"I knew you were dense, but wow," Tsukishima smirked. "And a good actress, I might add. Four years. Really? That's an awfully long time for a teen crush. And I would know. So how about we go to your place and talk about how utterly simple-minded you must be not to pick up any signal I send you over the last five years, huh?" At that, you perked up. "I was watching you closely, but you never gave anything away. Not once did you give me any indication you might like me more than just a friend. I'm honestly a bit impressed by all of that. Why the heck did you wait so long?"
"I didn't want to ruin our friendship", you mumbled.
"Yeah, well. Congrats. You will get upgraded to girlfriend anyway. Now come. If we hurry, we can get some strawberry shortcake from the bakery on our way." He turned around and left, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart and force the blush on his cheeks to vanish with sheer willpower.
 He would never admit it out loud, but this look of yours, this very facial expression: Head tilted to the left, bottom lip between your left canines and eyebrows slightly furrowed, this was his favourite demeanour of yours, for it brought him back to the day on the rooftop. When his heart had been beating faster and louder than anything. When you confessed and put an end to his silent misery. When you became his, and he became yours.
So when you were sitting there, all guilt-ridden and lovely, he had to fight down his smile and the blush creeping its way onto his cheeks – just like all those years ago. Just like always when you looked like that. He knew he wouldn't like what was to come, but still, he knew this wouldn't be too bad – nothing could.
"What did you do?" He repeated with an annoyance laced voice. "Just get it over with."
You didn't answer but slowly lifted your hands and a tiny fluffy looking kitten with them. A high pitch mewl escaped the small pink mouth of the little black furball.
"Did you… did you buy a cat?" Tsukishima asked, utterly perplexed. He had some ideas about what you could have done. Getting a cat without even asking was not one of them.
"He is so cute. I was at Yachi's –"
"Was it her idea?" He butted in, in a frighteningly calm voice.
"We were just looking at the shelter's website, and then I saw him, and I immediately fell in love with him and I… I just got him." You cradled the kitten in your arm, and he nuzzled your hand.
"And you didn't think of asking first?" Tsukishima's voice cracked a bit. His temper was coming out.
"You would have said no."
"Of course, I would have said no!" His speech got louder. "We can't have a cat. We're living in an apartment!"
"I talked to the landlord. Cats are ok!" You stated quickly. Hoping to bring some peace to his mind. Unfortunately, quite the opposite was the case.
"So you called the landlord, but not your boyfriend, who will have to live with your decision and should get a say in what kind of animal he is sharing his home with?"
The sound of his voice scared the black cat. He jumped out of your arms, looking for protection under the TV cabinet.
"Kei! You're scaring him!" You fell to your knees, trying to coax the small feline out of his hiding spot. But nothing worked, and the little one stayed put in his place.
"Get dressed and pack him up; we are bringing him back." That was all he said before vanishing in the bathroom.
It took nearly half an hour for the little furball to come out from under the TV. The whole time you pleaded with your boyfriend to just let you keep him, but Tsukishima didn't budge.
"If I wanted a cat, I would have brought it up with you, and we would have talked about it and made a decision together. You know we are supposed to make these kinds of decisions as a couple and not solo, right?" He snarled while fastening his seatbelt. "And stop heaving like a brat. What did you think would happen?" He asked. "That I would come home finding a cat in my living room and instantly fall in love with it?"
"Kind of… yeah." You mumbled, stroking the soft fur between the ears of the kitten in your lap. He purred heavily, not knowing what was happening around him.
"Do you even know me? When did I ever fall instantly in love with anything?"
"You instantly fell in love with me!" You retorted.
"I should never have told you that."
The car ride was silent, apart from your sniffles and the mewls of the cat that desperately tried to cheer you up by licking your nimble fingers and purring his heart out.
Tsukishima, at one point, tried to take one of your hands – to hold it like he always did while driving – but you slapped him away.
"Did you name him already?" He asked after a few more minutes with both hands on the steering wheel.
You shook your head.
"Good. That will make it easier."
 He pulled the car into the parking lot of the shelter. It was just before closing. Tsukishima was lucky – you were not.
He looked at the animal shelter and then back at you. You stared at him.
"Kei… please…"
Tsukishima swiped away a stray tear with his thumb and held your face. "Come on. They are closing soon."
He got out of the car, walked around it and opened your door – something he usually wouldn't do, but Tsukishima knew what had to be done to get you out of the car. You left with the kitten pressed to your chest.
You were waiting in the entrance room of the animal shelter. An employee said she would be with you shortly and scurried away. Tsukishima looked around and read a few posters and flyers while he waited. His glance drifted to you every once in a while, observing your interactions with the cat in your arms. He watched how you kissed the little furry head and scratched the tiny chin, and he saw the pink tongue licking your fingers. He pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up while doing so, before shifting his focus back to his flyer.
"Sorry for the wait.", the blonde employee was back. "How can I help you with?"
Tsukishima was at the counter in no time. "My girlfriend adopted this kitten today." He motioned in your direction and waved you over. "And…" He watched you walking towards him and spotted new tears in your eyes. He took a deep breath.
"Oh no. Is your partner allergic?" The employee immediately inquired.
"No… That's not it." Tsukishima said. "I… We…" He looked at you again, then at the kitten in your arms. His eyes fell down to the flyer still in his hands. "Well… this flyer says house cats should better not be raised alone. So we are here to get another cat. Preferably one he gets along with." He pointed at the cat.
It took Tsukishima less than 2 minutes to decide on a red male kitten from the same litter, who climbed up his leg the very moment Tsukishima set foot into the enclosure.
 You were sitting in the car while your wonderful, lovely, and absolutely adorable boyfriend was driving. Two little cats cuddled into each other and sleeping on your lap. You grinned at him.
"Be glad I love you so much, dumbass." He said drily.
"I am, Kei. I love you." You answered and took his hand.
"You're an idiot."
"But I am your idiot." You planted a kiss on the back of his hand, which made him smile.
"We still need names.", he said after a while.
"Ok… How about Hinata for the red one and Kageyama for the black one?"
"We are not naming our cats after my former teammates, especially not after that hyperactive moron Hinata Shoyo, nor his Highness King Kageyama Tobio!" Tsukishima warned you.
"What?" Your eyes were blown wide. "But I thought you chose him because he looked so much like Chibi-chan."
"Absolutely not! And he does not look like that Ginger."
"… well… he does, though."
"He does not, or I turn around, and we return both!" He threatened.
 A week later, you came back from the grocery store when you found your boyfriend on the couch with two sleeping kittens on his chest. You quickly snapped a couple of photos.
"If anyone ever sees these, I'm renaming them to Ankylosaurus and Iguanodon! Are we clear?" He warned you with a dangerous sparkle in his eyes – one that promised much more later on.
"Crystal clear, Tsukki-poo."
He growled at the nickname. But everything was forgiven and forgotten when he saw the strawberries you bought to bake him some shortcake the next day.
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boredfanwrites · 3 years ago
Text
Infinitesimal Shift
Am I jumping on the Buddie stuck in an elevator bandwagon during the blackout? Absolutely I am.
- Buck is walking Eddie down to his truck from the apartment when the blackout happens.
- They're two hours out of a 36-hour shift and Eddie wanted to shower before picking Chris up from his Abuela's.
- Buck's apartment was closer to the station - not to mention Eddie had met Buck before their shift and carpooled in the Jeep.
- Either way, they're stuck between the second and third floor when the blackout strikes.
- The elevator lurches loudly, metal grinds and the boys plaster themselves against the wall as it jolts to a stop.
- They're both on their phones in an instant, no signal and the electronic alarm obviously isn't working.
- 'I think my landlord said there was a failsafe alarm built into these that works off its own battery,' Buck says, trying to pull off the panel.
- Eddie hums, sitting down with his back against the wall of the elevator, watching the blonde finally manage to get behind the panel.
- Buck's right, of course. They hear a ringing bell.
- 'Hopefully, landlord hears that and calls dispatch.'
- 'Dispatch? Who also probably have no power?'
- 'I did not think that far ahead.'
- Buck takes a seat next to Eddie and they sit in silence for a few minutes.
- Buck keeps looking at Eddie, making sure he isn't panicking. They've both had their share of small spaces, but he knows Eddie isn't quite over the well.
- Eddie can feel Buck's staring and makes a point to not look at him. If he looks at Buck then he'll smile and Eddie will smile back and all the feelings he's been ignoring dealing with will come out.
- He fails.
- In less than 30 seconds after thinking it.
- 'What?'
- 'Just making sure you're ok.'
- Because of course Buck's first concern is Eddie's well-being.
- 'Are you?'
- 'Coping,' he laughs weakly. 'Did you know we're more likely to die in a shark attack than an elevator?'
- 'Surely that's the other way around?'
- 'Yeah, I think it might be. I was just trying to lighten the mood.'
- And wow, Eddie thinks, I'm such a jerk.
- He'd gotten used to bantering around with Buck. Sarcasm disguising his endless fondness for the younger man.
- Now isn't the time.
- 'I'm glad I decided to walk you down, so you're not in the elevator alone,' Buck starts rambling. 'Not that I wouldn't have come to check up on you if you had gone alone. I would've run out the second everything went dark. Maybe we should've taken the stairs. I mean I know it was a joke 'cause that was your first shift back and you're not quite in the same shape you were a couple months ago and...'
- It's adorable. It is. It's all Eddie can think and focus on.
- He knows Buck is doing it as a distraction from their situation but right now it's making him fall more in love with the man.
- He has to do something. Say something.
- 'Ana and I broke up.'
- Buck stops short. He stares at Eddie for a bit and the older man shrinks under his gaze.
- Neither say anything for a while and Buck tries the failsafe alarm again.
- Eddie stares at Buck's back, straining his eyes at the height. He's trying to telepathically get Buck to speak because he doesn't want to have to explain.
- He doesn't know how to.
- It was an inevitable event.
- 'Not long after I was shot, actually. Maybe two weeks?'
- Buck spins on his heel and stares at him.
- 'You have been single for a month and a half? And you didn't think to tell me until we got stuck in here?'
- 'You were with Taylor?' Eddie knows it's a weak defense.
- 'Why does that matter?!' And Buck sees right through it.
- 'I don't know. I just thought that maybe you'd want to focus on your own love life for once, instead of getting dragged in to the end of mine. Again.'
- Buck is silent again, judging Eddie from the corner. Feeling out what he should say next.
- Except he doesn't.
- Silence again.
- Eddie complains a lot about needing peace and quiet, but now that he has it, he's not sure he wants it.
- He'd give anything for one of Buck's signature smiles right now.
- That hasn't happened since the elevator first stopped and god how long has it even been.
- Eddie checks his phone. An hour. It's been an hour.
- His background of Chris and Buck smiling and building Lego together mocks him.
- He realizes he would never have made Ana his background and isn't that what couples do?
- 'Hey Buck? What's your cell background?'
- 'You and Chris tackling that pancake stack at Ellie's your last birthday?'
- 'Not Taylor?'
- 'Why would it be Taylor?'
- 'Because she's your girlfriend?'
- 'She's not.'
- Buck sounds exasperated. Like he's had to explain multiple times.
- Eddie guesses he has, back before they were a thing. But he told Eddie she kissed him after he was shot and that the two were going to try dating.
- 'I thought...'
- 'You thought wrong. I couldn't. Don't like her like that anymore.'
- 'Wow you sound like one of Chris' friends with a crush,' it comes out before Eddie can stop it.
- Hurt fills Buck's eyes and Eddie has to look away. He can't deal with being the reason for it.
- 'And if I told you there's someone I'm in love with but can't have? There's someone who actually thinks I'm worthy and deserving of love? But for two months I thought they were taken and I couldn't keep hurting myself anymore so I thought I would move on?'
- Eddie gulps. He can't. He can't be talking about Eddie. Life doesn't work that way. Not for him.
- 'Except I couldn't. It's too soon. I still love him and I can't imagine life without him and now that I know he's single it's all I can think about. Us. How well we work together. How beautiful we could be. Do I sound like an adult again?'
- Buck's glaring but it doesn't have as big of an effect when there are tears in his eyes.
- 'Evan.'
- His face softens. He's smiling at Eddie again.
- Granted, Eddie may have taken some liberties with calling Buck by his first name.
- It was only reserved for serious conversations. Times when Buck needs to listen and believe what was coming out of Eddie's mouth.
- 'I love you, too.'
- 'You do?'
- 'How could I not? I broke up with Ana because I was trying to deal with my feelings for you. I wasn't sure, you know? You're such a big part of my and Chris' life and I was trying to rationalize it as appreciation for you. You do so much for us and never ask for anything in return. But I was wrong. It's love. It's been love for at least a year and I was just too afraid to accept it.'
- Buck just smiles, reaching out a hand.
- Eddie takes it easily.
- He leans into Buck's side, pulling the other's arm around him.
- He knows that Buck is feeling for a heartbeat, Eddie's listening for Buck's too.
- They stay like that until the doors creak open and Albert's face pops between the gap.
- 'Hey, they're not dead!'
- The team gets them out pretty easily and they both agree to come in on shift to help with the fall out of the blackout. It's mostly going to be driving around in the rig, trying to spot problems as they occur.
- Buck walks Eddie to his truck and grabs the extra LAFD hoodie he keeps in there for emergencies.
- The same hoodie that Eddie has stolen on some of the harder nights when he was alone.
- He realizes just how entangled Buck had become in the Diaz's lives. Buck keeps a change of clothes in the truck, Eddie keeps a set of his own in the Jeep.
- Buck has his own drawer at Eddie's house, but Eddie doesn't have anything at Buck's.
- Buck spends more time living on Eddie's couch than either of them spends in the apartment.
- Buck belongs at home. With Chris. With Eddie.
- 'You know, if you moved in with me, you wouldn't get caught in an elevator in a blackout again,' Eddie tries.
- 'Yeah?'
- 'Yeah.'
- Buck moving into the Diaz residence was an inevitable event.
- Eddie was right - the next blackout, Buck didn't get stuck in an elevator. He was surrounded by candles and blankets, cuddled up with his boyfriend and son.
https://ko-fi.com/boredfanwrites
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simsadventures · 4 years ago
Text
Gilded: Chapter 1: To Bride or Not to Bride
Mob! Steve x Reader
Summary: Your life is a mess and you need a little help from time to time. But, when somebody proposes a plan to rid you of all your problems all the way to the far future, you’re suddenly not so sure it is worth it. Especially since the plan is proposed to you by the most notorious gangster America has seen since Al Capone: Steve fucking Rogers. 
Warnings: mafia AU, swearing (like, a lot this time), angst, struggles with money, loan-shark, sleazy men, harassing
Word Count: 7969
A/N: It’s finally here! It only took me around 6 months to bring it, and I apologise for the delay, but I hope I will make up for it with introductory this chapter :) Share your thoughts, let me know what you thought and what do you think will happen next :) xx
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Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 
“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was. 
“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction. 
“I told you, honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing. 
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2 weeks ago
“Coming!” You yelled through the loud music at the guests seated by the table number 5 where a group of guys was seated, hollering at you every two seconds as if you didn’t hear them the first time. You rolled your eyes at your colleague, who just laughed under her breath as you strode towards the clients. You put on your best fake smile as you approached them, and from the whistles, you assumed they appreciated it. 
“Thank God you came, sweets. We thought you were getting tired of us,” the loudest of them laughed, and the group followed his suit, making your clench your jaw even more. Oh, how you hated this type of men, who had nothing better to do than calling a woman pet-names, making her feel uncomfortable just so his friends could have a laugh and a story to tell. 
“What can I get you, gentleman? Another round of the same?” You asked as sweetly as you could, but it was getting harder by the second as they all eyed you like a piece of raw meat, ready to be devoured. 
“I mean, that would be nice, and could you serve us a piece of that sweet ass of course as well? We’d really appreciate it, pretty face,” the loud guy smirked sleazily, and you fought the urge to vomit in your face. One of the guys made the mistake of actually making a move to swat you across your butt, but your reflexes were quicker. 
You took a step back and breathed in, trying to calm your beating heart. This was, however, nothing new in your line of work, and you just learned to ignore it, or, at best, politely turn them down. Because, as you learned very early on, the manager didn’t appreciate if his “girls” were nasty to his customers. He almost made it sound like you were to provide your bodies with the beers, but you told him straightforwardly that that wouldn’t happen, and if his pub was one of these, you wanted to have nothing to do with it. All you were there to do was to work the evening and night shift to get some extra money on top of your regular job, and that was it. He even made a few remarks how he wanted you all to himself, but you politely declined every time and just tried to ignore it altogether.
“This ass is not for sale, I’m sorry, boys. But, the vodka shots are coming right up,” you tried to give them your best wink but didn’t wait long enough to see if they accepted their loss or not. You genuinely didn’t care. 
The night continued in a similar manner, some people being inappropriate and you just ignoring their behaviour, and some people actually nice, even leaving you a few tips which always made you smile. You were beat when it was 11, and your shift ended, and you were thrilled today wasn’t one of those days when you had to stay there till 4 AM. It was then that people got really disgusting and you even had to resolve to hit a guy this one time because otherwise, you were pretty sure he’d manage to rape you. You sighed at the memory as you continued on your way home, just now remembering you left the tips meant for you in your locker.
Sighing you turned around and walked back towards the bar, and when you were in, you noticed three men in black suits talking to your coworker, who looked stunned and scared at the same time. You cocked a brow at her, and she discreetly shook her head, telling you that you shouldn’t come nearer. 
This time, you really frowned and looked around, but the rest of the pub looked exactly the way you left it, even with the assholes by the fifth table. But you listened to her and took a step back to one of the dark corners, watching what was going on by the bar. It didn’t take long, definitely not longer than 5 minutes before the men turned around and left the building. 
Your coworker looked positively alarmed by now, and you almost ran to her to ask what the fuck did just happen. 
“I have no idea, Y/N. I noticed them by table 10 like an hour ago, but I didn’t pay them any attention because that was Christy’s sector tonight and I had the veranda. And when you left they just came here asking about you,” she breathed out, and it was your turn to look alarmed. 
“The fuck? Why would they ask about me when it was Christy who took care of them?” You screeched, your brain not really comprehending the situation. 
“I have no fucking idea, Y/N. But, like, they asked your name and stuff, and like, if you were a regular waitress here or what. I didn’t want to tell them anything, I swear, but they didn’t take no for an answer. So I just told them your first name, I wouldn’t budge on your last, I promise, and told them that you sometimes worked here but that I didn’t know when was your next shift,” she finished, a little scared of your reaction now, but from the look of those guys, you knew they were bad news and that Anja did the best she could.
“Nah, it’s ok, An. I would do the same. I’m really grateful that you didn’t give them my last name, though, that was really thoughtful of you,” you smiled at her, and it obviously put her at ease as she hugged and hurried back to the veranda, where you both saw a few guests waving that they needed a refill. 
The hell did just happen, and why would three mysterious men ask about you? 
It couldn’t be that they found out, right? No… you made sure all the traces were hidden, forever, so, that wasn’t an option. 
No, you told yourself, there must be another reason for them to ask about you. But you didn’t want to find out. It was a one-time thing, these men were just confused, or one of them liked you or something like that, and you would never see them again. This actually calmed you down enough to start functioning again, and you remembered that you came for something specific, took the money and went straight home. 
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“This can’t be happening,” you muttered as you looked over your bills. There was so much to pay and so little money on your account that you actually started to sweat. You worked two jobs and still wasn’t able to afford to live a life where you didn’t have to worry about money. What was more, with the high taxes, your rent, subway card and food you went into red numbers, and that was something you definitely didn’t want. Nobody told you that as an Arts Major, you could still be struggling to stay alive in the city of New York. 
You went over the bills again even though you knew your math was correct and that you didn’t have enough to pay your landlord this month. 
Fuck, you muttered again and considered your options. You could ask your friends, but you didn’t want to bother them since you knew they were struggling as much as you were. You shared your apartment with two of your best friends who you considered a family by now, Caroline and Aidan. And while you knew they would do anything to help you, neither of their jobs paid enough to be able to help you as much as you needed this month. 
Your other option was asking your landlord to give you some more time before more money arrived, but just imagining the conversation gave you goosebumps because you could picture the kind of service he’d want from you, and you’d literally rather go and beg on the street than to sleep with that middle-aged pig. 
So, as you summarised it, the only option remained the loan shark. Tony was actually a nice guy, once you got to know him, and he was nice to you because you always paid precisely what he told you to when he told you to, and never asked too many questions or begged for more time. You were smarter than that, and, besides, you’ve seen too many movies with loan sharks to know what could happen to you. 
The first time you went to him was probably 2 years ago, straight from university when you still thought you could make it big in New York. Well, safe to say that you didn’t make it, and while you remained hopeful, you had bigger problems than becoming a renown painter, like not starving to death and other fun stuff like that. 
You were awfully scared to go to Tony, he had a reputation of being kind of an ass, but people also said that, compared to the other guys in the business, he actually had the fairest demands, and as you had no other choice, you just went to him. And because life was a bitch, you ended up going there on more occasions. Tony was kind enough always to lend even small amounts of money because you really didn’t need 100K. No, you always need like 1 or 2 thousand, and while the other loan sharks turned people like you down, Tony didn’t, and he never wanted more than like 400$ as a return, which seemed quite fair as the other guys always wanted 100% or more. 
Well, Tony, it was, as you sighed looking around your room, thinking how you even got where you were. But there was no time to waste pitying yourself, and so you shot Tony a quick message, as you always did, and to no surprise, he was very quick to respond that you should come by later that afternoon. 
You were just getting ready when Aidan burst through your door. He stopped mid-step, looking at you confusedly because you didn’t tell him you were going somewhere. 
“Got a date or what? You never go out on Saturday afternoon, not if you can help it,” he said sceptically, looking around the room as his eyes landed on the fumbled papers on your table, and the look of realisation hit him. 
“You going to Tony again? Y/N, we told you, we can help you, babe! Let us help just this once, please?” He pleaded with you even though he knew it was useless. 
“C’mon, babe, you know you and Caroline are not making much either, and you’re both glad to get by another month. Tony is like an old friend by now, really. I don’t mind it that much, and it’s definitely a better option than burying you two with me under this pile of shit,” you huffed as you finished applying mascara, but you didn’t even check yourself in the mirror, really not caring that much how you looked. You went to Manhattan just to meet Tony and would go straight back, quick mission, in and out. 
“You need to find a better job, Y/N,” Aidan smirked at you, and you just laughed because you both knew it was pretty much impossible, especially since you loved your day job with the only issue that it paid like shit. 
“You know this is my chance to be close to art and I really want it. I mean, it could happen that they promote me from being a receptionist to like, I dunno, being a secretary to one of the curators of the gallery, right?” 
He just huffed and kissed the top of your head, striding towards the door. It was only then that you noticed he was dressed to go out as well. 
“And where are you going, mister?” You asked with a mother-like tone, and he just laughed, turning around as if he was caught in the act. 
“So, you remember John?” He asked, sitting on your bed, and you actually laughed out loud at him. 
“Which one? I mean, there has been so many Johns and Peters that I swear to God I’m starting to think there are only men called John and Peter in the whole fucking New York. So, more info, babe, please,” you scooted to him and listened to which John it actually was he was meeting and was pretty excited about this. This was John the Ballet dancer, and he looked really nice, so far. 
John the Fake Mobster was a lying bastard, John the Hairdresser wanted Aidan for just that one thing but would never admit it, and then you didn’t even have John-the for the guys because they were all just idiots who didn’t see your best friend for what he was: an amazing, although a little extra person with a very good heart, great sense of humour and amazing hair. 
“Alright, well, you know the drill. Keep your phone on data so we can use Find your Friend if needed, keep your eyes open for anything sketchy going on, but, most importantly, enjoy yourself, babe. I’ll see you tonight,” you hugged him tightly and walked out of the apartment and into the busy streets. 
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If it were all up to you, you’d live in a secluded place, somewhere in the north probably, like outside Seattle, where you’d have a lovely little house, maybe by a river or by the ocean or something, where you’d have enough inspiration for your art and where you wouldn’t be annoyed by the little things, like the car horns blaring all the way to the night, people shouting underneath your bedroom’s window, and little things like that. 
But life was not a factory for fulfilled wishes, and you had to endure another day trying to make it in New York. You thought about all of this as you walked down the street to where you knew you could find Tony. You weren’t happy that you had to go to him, again, but you also knew that you didn’t need to worry anymore. You would have the money for your landlord by the end of the week, and when the gallery paid you, you would pay Tony back. Again. 
“If it isn’t my favourite girl!” You heard a familiar voice hollering from the shop, and you laughed lightly as you walked into the pawnshop Tony had set up in the lower Manhattan. 
“Hello to you too, Tony. Today a yellow day, or what?” You greeted him as you looked at his outfit, which was just a canary yellow tracksuit and a matching hat. He looked like a character from a bad movie, but you knew better than to say anything like that. 
“Yellow is very classy and trendy, thank you very much! Yesterday I wore this really nice green velvet tracksuit, and you should have seen some ladies walking by, they almost ate me with their eyes! I swear!” He added as he saw you stifling a laugh, but you just nodded in fake understanding, and both of you shared a relaxed laugh. 
“So, what can I do for you today, sweetheart?” He drawled, and you shuffled on the spot, always feeling slightly uncomfortable when it came to this part. 
“I need a thousand this week. Ton. I’ve been working my ass off, but the bills keep building up, and every time I think I’m out of it and I can live normally, there is always something holding me back,” you sighed, scratching your arms which was a nervous habit of yours that Tony grew quite fond of. 
He was almost sorry for saying the next thing, but this was way above his pay grade, and while he really did take some liking to you, and he would always give you enough time to pay him off, he knew who he couldn’t piss off. 
“Listen, Y/N, I have a proposal for you,” Tony started, and you frowned, not really knowing where this was going, but from the look on Tony’s face, you could tell it was nothing good. 
“There is somebody who would like to get to know you, and he has a proposal for you that he believes you can’t refuse. I don’t know any specifics, I just know he is willing to pay you a lot of money, and I’m talking thousands and thousands, Y/N. He said that nothing sexual would be involved because I told him that if he was looking for a one night stand, you weren’t his girl, but he assured me that this wasn’t it. He would like to meet with you and tell you all the details if you let him. And before you say no, Y/N, think about it. All you gotta do now is to meet him and listen to him, and he is one of those guys who don’t take no for an answer,” Tony finished, and while you saw it pained him to give you the message, you were too stunned to care. 
“What the hell are you talking about, Tony? Is this some kind of a sick joke? Like, did this guy tell you he wanted to talk to me specifically or just a girl desperate enough to come here?” You blurted, still not getting what he was about. 
“He asked for you, sweetie. I don’t know how, but he knew you’d come and told me when you did to give you the message and give you his address. Which is here,” he said, handing you a piece of paper with an address and a date with the time written on it, “and he told me that if you came and agreed to his plan, you wouldn’t have to worry about money this week or any other week. It could be your chance, Y/N. Look, the guy is extremely powerful, so, please, just go and meet him, and you’ll see, ok?” He was scared, and it made you scoff out loud. 
Great, so a loan shark was giving you a message to meet some mysterious, powerful asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer and who probably stalked you as he knew you would be coming to Tony sooner or later. Just great, really. 
“It seems I don’t really have a choice, do I? Sheesh, Tony, at least tell me who this guy is and like how scared I should be. You gotta give me something because I can’t just go to some random house and be totally ok with it. Nobody can’t expect me to do so,” you pointed out, and Tony nodded in understanding. 
“Totally, yeah. I even asked if I should come with you, but I was told you should be alone. You should be alert, let’s put it that way. If I were you, I’d really think before I speak, because this guy doesn’t take anything lightly. And I think it would be best if you didn’t know his name, Y/N. Just… he doesn’t want to hurt you, all he wants to do is speak to you, so please, just do it,” Tony finished just as some customer came into the shop. 
You waited patiently because the conversation was far from over, but you knew better than to start shit in front of some stranger. Tony was evidently scared shitless of the guy, and it only fuelled your already growing anxiety. Tony was determined not to share too much information with you, but you didn’t understand why. Why could you not at least know the guy’s name? Who could it be? 
Your brain took a detour to a few nights ago back at the pub where you saw the men asking about you, and a cold sweat broke on your skin. It must have been connected, there was no doubt in your mind about that, and it filled you with so much dread you actually had to catch your right hand with your left to stop yourself from shaking violently. 
The doorbell rang signalling the customer left, and your eyes gazed at Tony, who was already staring at you apologetically. 
“And what about the money, Tony? It’s Saturday, and I need to pay my rent by Friday next week. Nice of the guy, whoever the fuck he is, that he wants to see me, but he won’t if I’m on a fucking street next weekend,” you seethed, and Tony was quick to walk around the counter behind which he was standing this whole time and walked closer to you. 
“He wants to see you on Wednesday, Y/N, and he specifically told me not to lend you any money, that he would take care of it. Whatever the fuck it means.”
“The fuck? I don’t even know his fucking name, and he will stop me from getting money to survive? What the actual hell, Tony? You can’t be serious right now,” you cried out in utter desperation because none of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to come, chat a little with the goatee man, get the money and walk back home, where you’d watch some stupid TV show and drink shitty wine. 
But no, of all the people living in New York this shit must be happening to you. As you didn’t have enough on your fucking plate as was, some mysterious fucker had to be interested in you for whatever reason, and he wouldn’t let you live without talking to him first. 
“Can’t you just call him and tell him that I want to have nothing to do with him?” You asked when you felt calm enough to talk again. You didn’t even know whether you were scared or desperate or angry, but at best, you were feeling a mix of all these and some more, that was for sure. 
“No can do, sweetie, but I promise it will be alright, ok? You’re a strong one, I know that and whatever he wants from you, you can either give or can talk to him,” Tony smiled sweetly, and while you knew he was full of bullshit you let it slide because you just didn’t have it in you to fight with him when he was clearly just the messenger. Whoever wanted to speak to you, however, he would hear it from you because where were we that a guy just asks for a girl and the whole of New York delivers her to him on a silver platter?
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Wednesday 
“You gotta be kidding me, Y/N. Are you seriously considering going there? For all you know it might be some elaborate trap and somebody’s gonna jump you and kill you in some dark alley,” Caroline screeched at you as she saw you getting ready after you came home from work. 
You had to ask for a night off from the pub since mister nobody wanted to meet you on your night of work. But you knew you couldn’t say no. Whoever it was, Tony was afraid of him, and Tony was a tough guy. And not that you wouldn’t be brave, but your bravery was mostly concentrated on being able to throw a spider out of the apartment or walk the corridor with the lights out, not really crossing some powerful guy who could do God-knows-what to you if you didn’t come. 
“C’mon, guys. You know I gotta do it. And I honestly think if they wanted to kill me, they would have already done it,” you muttered, trying to pick something to wear, that wasn’t too revealing, but you also didn’t want to go wherever you were going in a pair of baggy sweatpants you were currently rocking. 
“But like, what if they want to make a personal slave out of you, huh? Like, cuff you to a ceiling and serve them with your body, like a personal kind of slave, you know what I mean? You were not made to be strapped to a ceiling, babe,” Aidan panicked, and you actually had to laugh. 
“Your imagination never ceases to astonish me, Aid. Or are you speaking from personal experience?” You smirked as both you and Caroline laughed out loud at Aidan’s expression of utter disgust. 
“You two are disgusting, and I hate you, but that doesn’t change the fact you still don’t know where the fuck you’re going,” Aidan countered and you rolled your eyes at him. 
“I’ll keep my data on so you can see me this whole time, and if I don’t call you by 9 PM you can send the cops there, deal?” 
They both nodded in agreement, knowing this was the best they were getting. You were glad you had them in your life and that you had people caring enough to try and stop you from doing something stupid, but something in your told you that your life would be even worse if you didn’t go. At least this way you’d know the whole story, and you would be able to make an educated decision based on all the variables. 
“A’ight, but if anything sketchy happens, you run, ok? We can figure out the money, but we can’t figure out shit if you’re not here with us,” Caroline reminded you, and you nodded solemnly. 
God, you just hoped you weren’t making a mistake by listening to Tony. He even shot you a message in the afternoon, reminding you to go there because if you didn’t, it could end up badly for both of you. And it was actually one of the decisive arguments in the whole thing, surprisingly. You didn’t want anything happening to Tony, especially not because of you and your decisions, and so you just told yourself to suck it and prepared for the evening. 
You really couldn’t afford the cab, so you had to leave super early to be at the given address at precisely 7 PM. You also grabbed the book you were currently reading, Kim Stanley Robinson’s New York 2140, so that the ride to Manhattan wouldn’t be as dull and dreadful. You could think of the utopian future he depicts rather than thinking of your journey to the lion’s den, and that was the most promising image you created in your head about the place where you were headed. 
Not that you didn’t try to find the place on Google maps, but all the buildings on the address looked the same, and, actually, quite nice, so you had no idea what you were getting yourself into. 
Meanwhile, Tony texted you again since you didn’t reply to his previous text, and this time you took the time to craft a message telling him that yes, you were indeed headed to the manor and he didn’t need to worry about his own neck because you wouldn’t let others be hurt because of your incompetence or your cowardice. 
You knew you were getting off on Chambers St station and you actually took the time to think how many people living in Tribeca had to take the subway. The answer was, very obviously, zero, as the majority of the people in the subway were either passing or were clothed in a way you knew they worked in either one of the restaurants there or as a help. And you felt like one of them, because you too didn’t live in the wealthiest village in New York, and you too were going there mainly for business. Well, at least you hope you did. 
Checking every house number when you got to the street you were supposed to meet the mysterious guy at, you tried to find where exactly was the bat cave, and when you saw the number 112, you knew you found it. 
Your breath came in ragged huffs as you tried to gather the last remnants of your bravery as you walked up the stairs and buzzed on the door. Your head was spinning lightly, and you actually had to lean against the wall beside you to regain your composure. 
The door soon revealed a massive man dressed in a black turtleneck and a pair of black jeans, and you were actually quite surprised not to see him with sunglasses and an earpiece. If the situation weren’t so tense, you’d probably joke about it, but as it was, you just followed his lead as he beckoned you inside. 
“Miss Y/L/N, I presume? I need to see your phone and your belongings, ma’am,” he stated, and you raised a brow at him. 
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a standard procedure, ma’am. Everybody here to see the boss needs to be checked, just in case,” he stated, leaving no room for discussion, and while you sighed exasperatedly, you still handed him your bag and made a point by fishing out the phone and shoving it in his outstretched hand. He took a quick look through your belongings, pushing it against what you assumed was some kind of a metal detector before he pulled out another device. This looked like a big phone, and he scanned your bag once again. 
“What is that?” You asked, unable to stop your curiosity. 
“Checking if you’re not bugged,” he answered matter-of-factly as he continued before he put the device down, clearly not finding anything. Where would you even get a bug, and why would you do it? You rolled your eyes inwardly but kept a straight face in front of the man, just in case he was watching. Which he was, as you found out by him waving in front of your face and showing you to follow him. 
You braced yourself for whatever was awaiting upstairs and obediently walked behind him. 
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As you walked through the house, you got the impression that whoever lived there was wealthy, but that kind that didn’t really put on a flashy show. There were no chandeliers, no heavy curtains and stuff you pretty much imagined this place would look like and that image had nothing to do with the Beast and the Beauty dance room, nothing at all. 
But this was… modest. Everything was very contemporary, some prominent brick here and there with mostly grey floors and the furniture was most definitely customary but, again, it was plain yet luxurious. You assumed that’s how the really rich people lived. They knew they had the money, and the people around them knew it as well, so there was no need for diamond stairs and a golden toilet. 
A few names surged from memory as you heard your coworkers discuss the wealthy New Yorkers, but you didn’t want to assume anything before you actually saw the person, so you just walked by the halls before the man stopped in front one of the rooms and quietly knocked. 
It was not surprising when another man dressed exactly like the guy leading you appeared from the room and took a quick look at you before he said something to whoever was behind him. When the affirmative came that you could indeed go in there, they shoved the door open and what you assumed was a living room appeared in front of you. It corresponded with the whole house, but your attention was caught by one specific thing. Your brain had its own world, and when you saw one of Tunji Adeniyi-Jones’s paintings from his last year’s exhibit, you almost fainted. He was your favourite contemporary artist. And seeing his work outside of the gallery was practically an otherworldly feeling. You gaped at the beautiful play of colours, and your heart swooned at the perfection of the brush strokes. 
“Ehm,” you heard somebody cough beside you, and it startled you so much you actually jumped to the side, your hand flying to your chest in a feeble attempt to will your heart to stay calm. 
You took the intruder in and found out that unlike every other man in the room (and there were a few, as you noticed) this guy wasn’t wearing all-black attire. He was in a comfortable-looking creme sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans, everything fitting him as if the clothes were sawn to his body. 
Which, as far as you could tell, was the body of a Greek God. 
“See something you like, honey?” The man interrupted thoughts, and it just crossed your mind that he was really rude, not letting you breathe even for a second before he had to make his presence known. 
“Yes, actually. I’m quite a big fan of the artist whose painting you have there, so I admired that. And you are?” You trailed at the end, signalling that while he was very handsome, you had no idea who he was and why it was that you needed to come to him this evening. 
“Straight to business, huh? I like that. I’m quite surprised Tony didn’t tell you who I was. Was he scared you wouldn’t have come if you knew?” He didn’t wait for your answer, however. “Well, honey, I’m Steve Rogers, and I am very pleased to meet you,” he smirked at your stomach dropped. 
Steve Rogers? That Steve Rogers? It wasn’t possible. 
“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered as you scratched your arms nervously. 
“Oh no, on the contrary. I’m all too real, Miss Y/L/N, and from the looks of it, I’m glad Tony didn’t tell you, you look like you might faint. Are you feeling alright?” He asked like the smug asshole he was, and you just turned away from him, taking a deep breath before you finally turned back around to face him with a pokerface. 
“I’m alright, thank you. So now, can I know what it is you want from me so much you stalked me and made me come here, pretty much by force?” 
He scoffed but showed you to follow him to the sofa. When you didn’t budge, he simply took you by your elbow and pretty much shoved you down to the plump sofa. 
“Force, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply asked you to come visit me, is it so wrong? But yes, you are right, we should talk about why I invited you here. You see, Y/N, I’m in need of a wife, and after long calculations, I came to the conclusion you would be perfect for the job,” he said straightforwardly, and it was now that you felt like you’d faint. 
“Marry me? Are you fucking insane?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Form the pissed off expression on his face, you could see it was not the right move, but he couldn’t expect any other reaction, really. 
“Easy, honey or I might have to use the said force to shut that smart mouth of yours,” Steve mumbled dangerously, and you swallowed harshly. 
“Right, you’re a notorious mobster, and I’m literally nobody, and if you killed me, nobody would miss me. Good, now that’s out of the table, why do you want to marry me? And what does it mean you are in need of a wife? I mean… you are notorious for dating a different girl every week, can’t you just marry one of them if you’re in such a great hurry?” 
“No, honey, I can’t. All you need to know right now is my proposal. So, here it is. You will marry me, we will stay married for a year and then get a divorce. You will have everything every girl ever wanted: loads of clothes, all the time in the world to do whatever the fuck you want, you won’t have to work, and I will pay for everything and more. You will live here so you won’t have to worry about your rent money, and I will also pay your student loan, on top of which you will be paid 20.000$ every month for playing your role. And when the year is over, you will walk away rich, without any debts slowing you down and you will be able to do anything you want. How does that sound?” 
“It sounds like it’s not a proposal but a directive,” you smiled sweetly and stood up, pacing the room and scratching your hands like crazy. This was not happening, no, no, no!
You needed the money, you really did, and getting rid of the debt from your student loan that would have been sweet too, but at what price? On the other hand, you thought, how bad could it be to just be somebody’s wife for a year? He did make it sound pretty easy. 
“What would be expected of me?” 
“Well, you would go with me to every event and pretty much listen to everything I say,” he shrugged as if it was the most natural thing to say to another human being. 
“Like, you’d ask me to spread my legs for you here, and I would do it?” You asked, suddenly very angry that the man just assumed what kind of a person you were. You were desperate, but not that desperate. 
“Oh, no, honey. That is one of the reasons why I chose you: I’m not attracted to you, so no, I wouldn’t ask you for any sexual favours. We could even put that to our contract if you’d feel better, but, really, you have nothing to worry from me,” he again said with ease, and you didn’t know if you were glad he just told you this or really pissed and ashamed.
Not that you thought you were some kind of a beauty, far from it, but he also didn’t have to be so upfront about it. And now you understood it even less why the hell he chose you.
“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was. 
“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction. 
“Honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.
“Then why choosing me if you don’t find me attractive? Not that it’s an issue, I’m just really trying to understand the situation here,” you said, totally ignoring the threat in his voice as you needed some much valuable answers. 
“Right, well, first of all, as I already mentioned, what I want, I get, honey, and you should always remember that. Secondly, it was your ability to keep a straight face, even though I can see the ability is not endless. I need somebody who will be sickly sweet to both my friends and enemies alike, who won’t mind a few sleazy comments from the old fuckers, and who will look like an obedient wife. I need somebody who will blend in and who will look trustworthy, and not like she was to stay only for a week. And when I saw you in that pub where you used to work, I could see you had what it took to be in this life, even if only for a year,” he finished, and you were glad you were right at least about the guy, Steve, also sending the people to sniff around your workplace. But then it hit you. 
“Where I used to work? I still work there,” you said dumbfounded, and Steve chuckled humorously. 
“Oh no, you don’t. You see, I need my wife free all the time and I need her here with me. Look, Y/N, this is getting tiring, and I really need an answer now. What is it gonna be, huh?”
“Like I even have a choice. You just said you would use force if I said no, so, what am I supposed to say, huh? I don’t want to get married, but I don’t have any money and your snoopy ass is getting in the way of my life, and you ended one of my jobs, and before you say you terminated my contract in the gallery, please think about it again. That job is very important to me, it has always been my dream to be in a gallery surrounded by beautiful art, and, by chance, having my art there as well. 
I don’t know Steve, your offer is very generous, it really is, but I don’t think I’m the right one,” you sighed finally and looked around the room, ignoring the boring looks from Steve. Then you saw the clock and you almost panicked, it was two minutes before 9. 
“Oh my God, I need to call my friends, or they’re gonna call the cops,” you said quickly already dialling Caroline’s number. You told her you were fine and that no, you weren’t a personal slave yet, but that you’d tell them everything when you got home. When the call ended, the venom was back in Steve’s eyes. 
“If you think you can talk to people about anything I have just said, you are terribly wrong, doll,” he seethed, and you were taken aback, but you didn’t want him to think he intimidated you.
“Well, if you think I’m not gonna tell my family about this, then it’s you who is terribly wrong, Steve. We tell each other everything, and if I considered this proposal of yours, it would mean Aidan and Caroline would know about this, at least that I’m marrying you for more than my undying love for you,” you spat back, and Steve saw the determination in your eyes. He knew he had to compromise with you, even if only a little bit. 
He already found out everything about you, he knew your whole life, your past, everything his people could find on the internet. And what he got from the search was that you and the people you lived with were extremely close. He considered getting rid of them but realised it would only push you away from what he needed from you. And he needed a wife ASAP. 
The mafia was still very conservative, and as he was the only boss without a constant woman by his side, he was sometimes excluded from important meetings that happened on “family retreats.” And he needed all the info there was if he wanted to be the best of the best. Or, the worst of the worst, if we were being literal. 
“Fine, but they will need to sign a contract saying that they will keep their mouths shut,” Steve smiled back, and you nodded, your head already spinning. 
Were you really considering it? But was there any other option? You needed the money, and it would’ve be great if you didn’t have to care about your student loan for the rest of your life. You would see the world, just like you wanted, you would have time for your art, and you would be free after only a year. That didn’t sound that bad. Sure, you’d be affiliated with a known mafia boss, but that was nothing you couldn’t handle. But there was still a question Steve didn’t answer. 
“What about my job at the gallery? If you made them fire me and I’m gonna find out tomorrow, I can’t even begin to consider this. I want that job, I want to work at that gallery, Steve.” 
“Fucking hell, I could buy you the gallery if you agreed!” He shouted, exasperated that it was taking so long. He really didn’t get it. He was proposing a life in luxury, and he knew that the majority of women in New York would be more than happy to be seen by his side. But you? You had to be difficult and even demand stuff. Fucking hell…
“But whatever, you wanna work there, fine. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Do we have a deal or not? I have better things to do with my evening than just bargain with you, honey,” he accentuated the pet name that you already hated.
Well, this wasn’t how you imagined your proposal to go. Not that you were too keen on the whole idea of a marriage, but still, a girl could dream. Yet, here you were, actually considering getting tied up with a mobster for a year just because he offered you enough money and a life that you felt like could be interesting, if only for a year and with a man who blatantly told you he wasn’t interested in you in that way. This was the only reason you didn’t feel as dirty as you expected because you knew he would never touch you and never want you to do something sexual against your will. 
You were used to lying through your teeth ever since you were little, your parents made sure you knew how important it was to keep your secret, and dangerous life wasn’t something you only heard of on TV. All this made the decision slightly easier, as you finally made up your mind. 
“Fine, but we still have a lot to talk about, Mr Rogers,” you set your jaw and outstretched your hand to shake on it with him. 
“Whatever, Mrs Rogers. Consider your rent paid and I’ll see you on Friday when we discuss our matter in greater detail. Now, if you excuse me,” he kissed the top of your hand and walked away. 
Well, this would be fun, you told yourself as you watched the man you would soon call your husband walk away from you, and contemplated whether you made the right choice. But your life wasn’t great as was, as much as you tried to fill it with laughter and happiness, and, in a sense, Steve offered you an out, even if only for a little bit. 
Here was to nothing, you hollered at yourself in your mind and followed one of the turtleneck-guys out of the manor and into the chilly air of evening New York.
/ Next Chapter >
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