#I’m just. i gotta be thankful for my state and my city and all that. god

[eupheme]

— you’re the one that I want

worst!wolverine/logan howlett x f!reader

tags: soulmate au, roommate!wade & neighbor!f!reader, valentine’s day fic, blind dates, use of alcohol, flirting, light misunderstanding, semi-public makeout

rated m - 2.6k

a/n: my submission for the loveuary challenge hosted by the wonderful @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt! thank you so much, this was so fun 💘

“You really think there’s anyone worth my time at that shithole?”

Wade gasps in offense.

“Sister Margaret's is a New York institution. If America’s Sweetheart was a bar, she’d be it.” His eyes narrow, voice lilting as he adds, “Besides, you really want to miss out on the chance to meet your soulmate?”

“No fucking way.”

Wade’s groan stretches long, as his head lolls against the back of the sofa.

“Logan. Peanut. My sweet cheese, my good-time boyeh, please-” His voice strings out the syllables, “I need you to do this for me. I already set it all up, all you gotta to do is go.”

Logan’s scowl deepens, with a sharp jerk of his chin, “I’m not fucking going.”

A sigh then - Wade’s legs stretching wide, as he springs to his feet. Circling around to where Logan leans against the counter, looking every bit rooted to the apartment as the thing growing in the corner of their shared shower.

“I need this. I am finally back on track with Vanessa, and this is a real chance for me to knock it out of the park.” A finger raises, before poking him in the chest, “But I can’t have Mr. Grumpy Gus cramping our style. You feel me?”

An eyebrow arches up, but Wade barely pauses for a breath, “Besides, would you really stand a girl up on Valentine’s Day? Don’t you know what that could do to her psyche? What if that was her thirteenth reason? You really need that on your conscious?”

The filthy scowl Logan shoots him is like a three claw punch to the gut. Wade at least has the decency to look ashamed - fingers splaying wide in placation.

“Just give it a shot. If it all goes south you can just come right home. I won’t even be mad, even if it’s mid-coitus. Pinkie swear.”

The visual makes Logan’s lip curl. Arms crossing over his chest, as his head tilts, “You really think there’s anyone worth my time at that shithole?”

Wade gasps in offense.

“Sister Margaret's is a New York institution. If America’s Sweetheart was a bar, she’d be it.” His eyes narrow, voice lilting as he adds, “Besides, you really want to miss out on the chance to meet your soulmate?”

Wade misses the sharp look Logan shoots his way. His tone still teasing, missing just how deep his comment thrums through him.

How it meant something different in his world, rather than the shallow note of connection it seemed to mean here.

It didn’t matter, anyways. There’s only one person in the city he might not mind seeing, and surely you would have other plans.

Logan’s seen your recent date, stopping by the door down the hall in the evenings. Doesn’t much care for his goody-two-shoes vibe, the State University tone.

The memory sends his skin itching. An urge to move - and it’s enough that his arms are loosening.

Deep down, he really doesn’t want to stick around. Had been planning on hitting up a bar, anyways.

Can’t take much of this lovey-dovey shit, never been one of his favorite holidays.

And if his drinks are on Wade’s tab, then…

He’s sure he can let whoever the poor girl is down quick.

“Yes. Yes! Thank you, bestie.” The resignation must flick across his face, because Wade’s fist pumps with triumph, “This is gonna be great, I promise. Even better than the Tony Awards.”

Logan ignores another asinine reference - a final warning leveled his roommate’s way, as his hand curls around the doorframe.

“You got thirty minutes.”

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Wade grins.

“That’s twenty-nine too many.”

The heel of your boot bounces underneath the booth. Fingernails drumming on the surface of the sticky table, trying to keep your eyes from flicking to the door each and every time it opens.

This was stupid.

You don’t know how you let Wade talk you into this.

Sister Margaret’s was not your idea of a place to meet someone - romantically, at least. And therefore, the chances of this evening going well were historically low.

But it’d beat your second year of ordering in - the prices hiked up with the holiday. Of another movie marathon alone, picking apart the sordid end of your last relationship.

Anything was better than that, surely.

You’re double-checking your phone for the third time, confirming the text noting which booth to be in - the back left corner one next to the totally-not-a-bloodstain on the floor - when a shadow passes over the edge of your table.

Eyes catching on the flannel that creeps into your vision. Worn, in shades of brown and muted red - a slow drag upward across a broad chest, then higher. Your breath catching, as your mind whirrs - racing catching up.

You should tell your upstairs neighbor “hi”.

Something that resembles polite, normal conversation.

But you can’t seem to find the words.

Because as he slips into the booth, you’re quickly realizing he might just be here for you.

What you do find is -

“Is this a joke?”

Logan’s frown deepens.

A snarled out “what?” that sends a jolt though you, but you’re too confused to examine it. Left babbling, trying to make sense of this.

“Is this because I told Wade he’s a winter?” Your voice pitches higher, “Because his photo was really blurry, and I don’t even do that kind of color analysis-”

Logan scoffs, a hand braced on the table as if to push himself up. Hesitating for the briefest of moments, before he’s asking, “Why would this be a joke?”

Your lips part.

“Because-”

Because you’re here in the hopes of finding someone else. A distraction.

Unsure what to make of this magnetic feeling deep inside your chest when you see him. Having to hold yourself back from taking one step, and then another, when he lingers near the mail room.

You had hoped tonight would help you erase the man that surely does not even know you exist.

“…because I’m sure you have better things to do then uh, do this.”

“This?” He hedges, a brow arching.

“A blind date.”

Something in his eyes flicker, when you finally meet them. The little mark between his brows deepening with the rough rasp of his voice. ”You really didn’t know who you were meeting?”

“No,” Your head shakes, “No. Did you?”

His eyes drop for a beat, before they flick back up.

“No.”

Your tongue dips out to dampen your lip, and you miss the way his eyes track the movement. The question slipping from you without thought.

“Would you have come, if you did?”

The silence stretches out, tipping towards uncomfortable.

And yet, he does not leave. A leather jacket still slung across the back of the booth, as his fingers tap the table.

“I’m gonna grab a beer,” He deflects. “You want another?”

Logan’s head dips towards your drink, only the glittery dregs of red remaining, a cherry nestled against the ice.

Your shoulder lifts, about to answer that you probably shouldn’t. That you’ve already made enough of a fool of yourself.

His lips curl at the edges, before you can voice your answer. ”Wade’s buying. Thought we could make a dent in his wallet.”

“Oh.” The word draws out, as your smile stretches.

So, not a rejection.

It might just be an invitation, actually.

“Definitely.”

It’s not how he thought his night would go.

Should have peeled himself away twenty minutes ago, somewhere between your second and third drink and the wind of conversation.

Slunk back home, or to another bar.

Had thought about it, in that moment when you confessed that you hadn’t known he was meeting you.

The thought of it being a disappointment turning his stomach, until you had voiced your question. The hope that wound its way between your words.

Unable to answer, even if he knows what it would have been.

The alcohol flickers inside him, a brief respite to the burn of sore muscles and a bone-deep ache that he’s carried since his world.

Should stop drinking this shit, but he’s been taking it a day at a time. Swapping rubbing alcohol for anything with a kick. That for vodka. Vodka for beer.

It’s not progress, but it’s something.

The feeling never sticks around, but something about you almost mirrors it. A wash of calm as his chin cups in his palm. Senses narrowing down, blocking out all the noise around him.

Eyes snagged on the curl of your lips around the white straw, the pink tinge of gloss left behind.

Helpless, to the tug at his arm as you loosened. The point of your finger to the empty dart board, how he had followed two steps behind.

You’ve missed a handful of your throws. Two darts stuck between the numbers running around the rim. His lips twitching at the frown that pulls down the corner of your lips, the hand that braces at your hip.

“So, did Wade guilt you into coming?”

Your fingers brush his, as you hand over the darts.

“You could say that.” He grunts, eyes slipping towards the board. Still catching the scrunch of your nose, as he amends, “But, like I said. Didn’t know.”

It’s not an answer to your question before, but it’s something that tip-toes close to one. It’s enough that your expression softens - an excited touch against his shoulder when his throw flies true.

“Same.” Your fingers curl against his shirt, transfixed. Hazy - those walls around you from before unstacking one brick at a time, “Almost didn’t go. But you know Wade, and his puppy-dog eyes.”

Logan didn’t.

“-and I uh, thought it would be nice. To not be alone, this year.”

He missed his next throw. A side-eye shot your way.

“Alone?” The word comes out close to a scoff.

Can’t pretend it hasn’t been eating at him. Wondering what the hell Wade had been playing at, inviting you.

“Figured you’d be out with your boyfriend.”

The last dart sinks into the green rim around the red center.

“Very funny.” You hum, stepping up to take his place. A glance over your shoulder, to find him still watching you.

That frown back, as your head tilts.

“I really don’t know who you’re talking about.”

He wished he hadn’t asked. Should have just stayed silent, taken this night for what it was.

“Thought I’ve seen a guy around the last couple weeks.“ Logan hands shove into his back pockets, “Just figured…”

Your expression persists. His fingers tap his temple, “Grey streaks, suit.”

As if he doesn’t have some of his own.

“Oh!” Recognition flickers, as you spin back, “Definitely not boyfriend. He’s like, super married.”

Your shot flies wide, bouncing off the wooden walls behind the board - a little huff as you turn back, “They’re due to have their first in a couple months. Been helping them pick things out for the nursery.”

A finger pointed back towards yourself, in explanation, “Figured I could help. Interior designer, and all.”

Something like relief flickers in his chest. Another feeling - deeper, hungrier - almost drowns it out.

The words smooth, as they slip from his lips.

“No guy, then?”

The shake of your head is slow, and that sweet smell that clings to you curls around his senses. Thickens, even - betraying you.

It gives him the confidence to step into your space. Emboldened by the look you give him from beneath the thick fan of your lashes. Hope, burning once again in blown-dark pupils.

“Here.”

A hand touches at your hip, as he eases closer. Plucking the dart from limp fingers.

“You’re holding it too far back. Lemme show you.”

He never gave a damn about this game, but he’ll take any excuse to get closer. To feel the way you stiffen beneath his fingertips, the hitch of your breath.

The shot is lined up.

His wrist extends as he aims, chest brushing against your back, and suddenly - your palm curls around his forearm. Fingers splaying wide as a jolt arcs through his nervous system, shooting from his hand to his core.

Your words muted - it’s only his enhanced senses that have him catching the tail end.

“-like me.”

He makes a rough sound, and again you turn to face him. The prick of goosebumps as your finger trace the dots at his wrist.

“I said you have freckles like me.”

The knitted cuff of your sweater tugged back to show him how yours mirrors his, down to the very last mark.

Time stands still.

Logan’s dreamt about this moment for decades.

Using that little crisscross of dots like a compass.

Guiding him through life - thinking there had to be something about the mansion, its symbol, that tied it to him. Taking on the mantle that mirrored the shape, ink-like against his skin.

Thinking it would lead him somewhere.

Even if he’d been certain he had missed it, somewhere in those two-hundred years. Ships passing in the night, across a lifespan that has stretched far too long.

Always trying to push away those “what ifs”. Had stopped looking a long time ago. Never once, since he’d crossed over. Told himself he was luckier not to have a match.

Not to know love like that - because one day he’d have become acquainted with the loss of it, as well.

He’s had enough of that, in his lifetime.

And this - it’s not what he ever expected.

Finding you in a world that’s not his own. His match with a girl, living on the floor just below his.

It leaves him mute, as your eyes linger.

Not sure what to make of him, he’s certain. Of the part of his lips, his own heart hammering beneath his ribs.

Unsteady, for the first time in decades.

His name pulls him out of his thoughts. Cherry-sweet on your tongue, lilting into a question.

The dart is thrown by muscle memory.

Your fingers still pressed against his mark, as it hits dead center.

He takes his prize, back in the shadowed corner of the booth.

Your eyes already slipping shut, when his fingers tuck under your chin. Lips parting, and he finds himself grateful again for those animal-senses.

Permission in the galloping of your pulse beneath your skin. The held breath as you wait, balanced on the knife’s edge of anticipation.

The soft inhale of breath, when his mouth slants against yours. Fingers curling in his shirt once more, as you part for him.

Swallowing your moan, with the sweep of his tongue. Sweet - grenadine syrup blending with you, and it’s like he cannot get enough. The kiss drawing out, insistent and hungry - a shuddering breath when it finally breaks, as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Pliable, in the way he tugs your thigh over his, seating you in his lap. How you follow, so easily.

Fitting against him as if you were meant to.

And maybe you were - the thought sending his fingers tightening, where they grip at your hips.

As if he won’t let you go, now that he’s found you.

You’re right there with him. Just as affected - your palms smoothing over his chest. Tracing the chain biting into his neck, sinking into his hair when they loop around his shoulders.

Letting your hips rock - a tentative movements, paired with the softest sighs.

Growing bolder when you feel him beneath you - how he encourages it, with the press of his palms. The tips of his fingers slipping under the hem of your sweater, a pulse of pleasure at the way you shiver with his touch.

The second gift of his name, and it’s the one he’ll remember most. Drawn-out. Needy, and it only makes him want to hear it more.

Another breath huffed out, a heady throb against the too-tight confines of his jeans.

There’s the crack of a pool cue, a cheer rising at the table across the room.

The bubble bursts.

Bringing him back - even in this dim corner, it’s still far too public for everything he needs to do to you tonight.

A shared thought, your lips kiss-swollen as they press against his neck.

“Can we go home?” You husk, into the shell of his ear.

Something deep inside him purrs at the word. Possessive, wrenching a growl from deep in his chest as he carefully eases you off him.

Pushing himself up from the booth - a hand coming to wrap around your wrist.

Thumb pressed against your pulse, feeling it thrum beneath your skin once more.

Right against your mark.

He’ll tell you tomorrow.

He’ll have time - he’s always had that.

Never been grateful for it.

Not until now.

thank you again, lub and kiwi! I am so excited to check out the fics for your event, and happy I was able to contribute one! I’ve wanted to write a soulmate fic for some time, this has me 👀💖 about writing more!

[seilon]

i don’t wanna be that guy. but man i am legitimately so thankful that i live in california

[bitchface24-7]

V, you gotta be lacing your fics with something because I literally dreamed Jayvik last night… I’m fighting my demons on if I should write this but regardless I’m gonna throw the idea out there. Because who better than The Jayvik messiah to bless my feed once more.

  Waitress!Reader, who is a new hire at a local bistro. Quickly becoming Jayce and Viktor's favorite waitress. After Viktor suggests Jayce take a break from all the fancy dinners and embrace a simpler style of dining. They are both just enamored by Readers hospitality after they mention it's their first time/first time in a while. Leaving a generous tip. (could be a tip or a tiiip)

Go crazy go stupid. I’m positive you will COOK.

ORDER UP! - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: Viktor and Jayce have horrendous eating habits. Too focused on their work to properly take at least a thirty-minute break to eat. You'd think after Jayce became a counsellor his eating habits would become better, nope! The “meals” they serve during meetings couldn’t even fill up a baby poro.

While Jayce was away as a counsellor, Viktor was alone in the lab. One day when he was incredibly frustrated, he took a break. He left the lab and went to a quaint diner called Roadside Revival. He ate amazing food and met a beautiful waitress; You. He needs to bring Jayce here STAT.

warnings: unhealthy eating habits, flirting, favouritism, pre-established JV (they want that cookie (you) SO BAD), reader is very sweet and called the boys honey and sugar; they love it like flowers in the sun, reader treats everyone else like Max from "2 Broke Girls" (one scene is inspired by the show), smoking, suggestive content sprinkled throughout (and especially at the end)

genre: m/m/f

p.s. the way this request was worded made me wheeze. THE JAYVIK MESSIAH?!?!?? Is that what I'm going go be known as? I'm not complaining! Does that make y'all my commune? Do I need to get a dark blue blanket and wear it cuntily?

Viktor wants to rip his hair out. The equations aren't equaling, the rune sequence isn't working, he's tired, his back hurts, he hasn't eaten in several hours, and he misses Jayce.

One of those problems gets a solution almost immediately, when Jayce walks through the lab doors with a beaming smile.

Viktor feels his lips twitch at the excitable energy Jayce exudes. His mere presence makes Viktor more relaxed.

“I’m starving! Those portions they give out are horrendous! I'm telling you, V, they're like five strands of spaghetti and two meatballs if you're lucky. I'm a big boy, I need to eat!”

Viktor smirks and slowly stands up from his chair, walking over to his partner, “You are a big boy but don't lie. Your eating habits are just as bad as mine.” Viktor pulls Jayce in close with his cane and kisses him, enjoying how Jayce surrounds him. His warmth, his scent. Him.

Jayce smiles into the kiss and pulls away with a small giggle, “Oh shut up. Speaking of food, have you eaten?”

Viktor looks away with a fake look of innocence.

“Viktor.”

“What?”

“Have you eaten today? A glass of sweet milk and a singular piece of toast don't count.”

There's a small silence before Viktor sighs dramatically, “No I haven't, BUT—” he says the last word loudly, to prevent Jayce from scolding him, “There’s this diner I've been frequenting, the Roadside Revival. Many different dishes, amazing portions, and fairly priced. I've been planning to take you there when we both had the time so we could get an actual tasty meal in this godforsaken city.”

Jayce quirks an eyebrow, “Really? Tell me more.” he states as he puts his hand on Viktor’s lower back as they leave and lock the lab.

He's been dying for some good food from— somewhere! He's getting sick of cooking all the time, he wants a place he can go to when he's lazy. With Viktor's praise, this might be the place.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your shift is going well, thank god. With how shitty some of the other shifts have been, you were wondering when you were going to crash out and hit a customer.

An annoying snapping takes you out of your thoughts, and you have to reign in your sigh. These two uppity academy students are treating you like a dog. You'll see if they appreciate the sentiment.

You sway over to their table, "Hey, what can I getcha?" Before the guy can even finish his sentence, you're snapping your fingers centimeters away from his face.

"Was that annoying?" You snap your fingers again and the two customers look stunned. "Is that obnoxious and rude?" You rhetorically ask, snapping once more, "Would you find that distracting if someone did that to you when you were working? Oh! You don't have a job, sorry. " The other guy snickers and you shoot him a glare. He shuts up. "I'm not on your side either buddy, you're just as bad as your friend for allowing him to act like that."

You look at snappy one last time, "You think this," You snap your fingers in his face, "is the sound that gets you service. I think this is the sound that dries up my vagina."

And with that, you saunter away, not taking their order.

You start to clean up the bar area when the jingle of the door catches your attention, you go to make your usual greeting, "Hi, welcome to Roadside Revival! What can I--" you stop in your tracks when you see your favourite customer Viktor and a man you've only seen on mugs and posters across town.

A beaming smile lights up your face, "Viktor, honey, you made it! I was wondering if you were coming in today! I would've had to drink the pitcher of sweet milk all on my own!"

Viktor dramatically gasps and raises a hand to his chest in mock offence, "That's betrayal of the highest order."

A smirk grazes your red lips, "That's what you get for making a lady wait. Your usual booth?"

Viktor smiles with a slight nod, you pick up two menus and bring him to what you consider to be the ultimate booth. It's right next to large windows, where you can get the warmth of the sun and a nice breeze of ac. There's quite a few trees so you're not blinded and can comfortably talk with anyone you're sitting with.

"Here ya go! Sorry for not introducing myself," You state to Viktor's companion, you point to your oval name badge and say your name, "and I'll be your waitress for today! I just got so excited seeing my favourite customer! So... can I start you off with any drinks?"

Viktor says nothing, his sweet milk pitcher is waiting for him. Jayce furrows his brows and says, "Coffee will do, thank you." You lightly scrunch your nose and say, "Fair warning Golden Boy, the coffee is kind of shit. But if you order any other variation, like a cappuccino, mocha, french vanilla, I have to make it. And it'll actually be consumable."

Jayce huffs a laugh, "It's Jayce. I'll take your advice then, may I please have an iced mocha?"

You giggle as you lean away from the handsome man, "A man after my own heart, think I'll call you sugar. With manners like that you're as sweet as can be."

You turn around to get their drinks, and because of this you don't see Viktor's smirk and Jayce's flushed face.

"Now you see why I like coming here." Viktor calmly states as he looks through the menu, Jayce's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

"Is she like that with everyone?"

Viktor looks up and lightly crooks his head to the side, silently telling Jayce to look over, there you are, a grimace on your face as a customer tries to flirt with you. He can't hear what you're saying, but he hears your tone, and it's irritated.

"No. She isn't."

And for some reason, Jayce smiles and straightens his spin, feeling special.

"Honey?" He questions. Viktor blushes and mumbles, "Because of my eyes. She said they remind her of honey and I'm just as sweet to look at."

Jayce laughs at his partners expression, and in his flustered state; Viktor kicks him underneath the booth with his stronger leg. Jayce yelps in pain. Viktor got the last laugh, his partner is making fun of him. How rude!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You're hustling your ass off to try to keep the customers happy. Serving drinks, food, topping up coffee and water. Your energy is waning. You want to kill your co-worker.

She's currently getting fucked in the walk in freezer as you bust you ass off for ungrateful assholes. One older gentleman grunts, "Where's my waitress?! It's been fifteen minutes!" Before you can reply, a loud moan is heard throughout the diner, "She's cumming!" You say with a giggle, knowing the old man won't get the double-entendre.

You're finally able to bring the sweet milk and mocha to your-- now two favourite customers.

"You have an idea of what you want to eat?"

The two nod and hand you their menus. You can't help but smile at them, so sweet, so polite, so handsome.

God you wish you were your co-worker in the walk-in freezer getting your shit plowed by your honey and sugar. Fuck, they'd probably feel so good, and actually make you cum. Your poor purple bullet vibrator can finally take a break.

The rest of your shift went well, you tried your best to stay by Viktor and Jayce's table, trying to maintain your sanity. They leave an incredibly generous tip, like enough to pay your rent generous. You try to deny it, but they insist. You can't say no to them.

The only upside is what happens at the end of your shift, after you've closed up the diner.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slowly but surely, the other customers left. Jayce and Viktor stayed behind, offering to walk you home since it got dark out. Having playful banter, flirting, and too-long touches.

It's only when the three of you left the diner and were relaxing outside during the fresh evening breeze did what you've been fantasizing about was about to come to fruition.

You lean against the wall of the diner, pulling out a cigarette and light it. You take a small hit and appreciate the nicotine relaxing you. You feel a grasp on your wrist and look to see Viktor bring the cigarette up to his own lips. Jayce gasps.

"Viktor! Seriously?! You smoke? Isn't that bad, worse due to your condition."

Viktor exhales and the smoke comes out as a ring, "Let me be hypocritical Jayce. I'm dying, let me enjoy a few pleasures in life." his lips are tinted pink due to the residue of your lipstick on the filter of the cigarette.

You want to see his pale skin covered in kiss marks, bruises, and hickeys. You subtly look to Jayce, you want to see his hair messy, no longer swept up due to his pomade. You want to see scratch lines down his back, angry and red; maybe even a little bloody.

"There's more pleasure's in life than just smoking a cigarette." You say, hitting your cigarette again, the end lighting up a burnt orange; you flick the ask onto the floor and exhale the smoke. "Pretty sure your pretty boy here is more than willing to show you. What a polite man, he also take directions well." You state, remembering asking for Jayce to help with certain aspects of cleaning the diner and he did so; without question.

Viktor smirks and Jayce sputters.

"You're not wrong." Viktor adds, Jayce just flushes a darker red. You giggle and bring your cigarette to your lips, Viktor continues, "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you also follow instructions well?"

You smirk, giving Viktor the rest of the cigarette, his lips darken even more.

"Give me a good reason to."

Viktor and Jayce share a dark look. You feel your face lightly heat up.

"We'll get you to moan louder than your co-worker did in the back." his accent his thick, and Jayce bites his lip and adds, "And we won't stop until that pretty makeup you have on is smeared all over your face."

You hum and cross your arms over your chest, your tits moved up through the open unzipped portion of your dress. The two men's eyes dart down immediately; looking lecherously.

"So... your place or mine?"

Jayce smiles, his dimples popping through. He puts a hand on your lower back as you three start to walk.

"Ours." Viktor states, his cane thumping rhythmically on the sidewalk, "Unless you want to fuck in an allyway, I don't think any of us have the patience to walk to yours."

You nod, "Fair point."

You may not have gotten the dicking down you wanted during your shift, but at least you're getting it afterwards.

A win is a win.

The inspiration train hit me, and the cackles and wheezes I made when reading this request, oh jeez I sounded like I was dying. But anyway, chat did I cook? Love ya ❤️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 14

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse 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: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

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 ❤️

Photo Inspo

When Castro leaves, there’s no buffer left to you. As usual, you have no defense against this man. You feel Bucky watching you as you avoid him.

You take in the decor. As nice as it is, it’s just another reminder of the distance between you and this man. He has everything and you have nothing. You are entirely at his whim. 

He sighs and you sense the subtle shift behind you as he stands. You glance over your shoulder as he strips off his jacket. He stretches his neck to either side and it pops. 

“May as well get settled, doll, too late to send you off now,” he drawls. 

You face him entirely and nod. Resignation isn’t such a new feeling to you. He looks at you with a fire in his eyes. He comes forward and you plant your feet. 

“Are you excited? At all? A wedding? A wardrobe? The most powerful man in the city?” He stops before you and tilts his head. 

You stare at him and open your mouth. You should lie to him but you can’t force the words out. Despite your speechless gape, he doesn’t appear disappointed. He cups your cheek and his tongue peeks out over his lip and he considers you. 

“I respect that. You’re too honest for your own good.” His thumb brushes up to your temple. “So I’ll ask the big question, do you think... do you think I’m handsome, doll? I have been told I got nice eyes but I got a lot of people around me who will tell me whatever I wanna hear.” 

You flinch and narrow your eyes. You feel a dimple pinch. He smirks. 

“You think that’s funny,” he states. 

“I guess. You don’t need me to answer that, do you?” 

He takes a breath, “maybe not but I’d like to hear it from you.” 

You look down then flick your eyes back up, “yes, you are handsome, Mr. Barnes.” 

He snickers and brings his other hand up, cradling your head gently. “And you’re gorgeous, baby.” You scrunch your face and clucks, “don’t make that face, you know it too.” 

“Barnes--” 

“Bucky,” he insists. 

“Bucky,” you echo wistfully. 

“Hey, I know I gotta treat you right or one day you’ll find someone to take care of me--” 

You shove him, not thinking. His words lash you like a fiery whip. He takes a step back, though you know that you truly can’t impact him that much. 

“Don’t you dare—How could you say that to me?” 

His eyes drift placidly then spark as they fall on you again, “you play innocent with everyone else. It’s perfect, but not with me. I know what you’re capable of.” 

Your nose tingles, “you don’t understand--” 

“I don’t?” He arches a brow. “I don’t understand the bruises on your neck or the desperation in your voice? I didn’t deliver you exactly what you wanted on a platter?” 

“Why are you doing all this? What—do I have to get on my knees and thank you?” You step forward then stop. You sneer and drop to your knees. You clasp your hands together with a clap. “Oh, Bucky Barnes, the King, thank you for putting that gun in my hand. Thank you for taking those years of abuse and twisting them into your prize. Thank you. Is that good enough?” 

He looks down at you. His expression is clear, calm. He holds out his hands. 

“Get up,” he demands. 

“No, you want me on my knees. You want me beneath you. To know that I owe you this life.” You tug but he doesn’t let go. “I don’t want it. I never did. I just wanted... I wanted my sisters to be free.” 

He slowly bends his knees and lets you go. He comes eye level with you as you take a breath. He scoops you up in a single motion and you cry out. He hikes you up, turning you sideways in his arms. You push on his chest, your other arm stuck against him. 

“Barnes--” 

“Why don’t you just call me James then? If you’re going to act like my mother,” he growls as he marches past the sofa. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t--” 

“You meant it. Goddamn it, doll, that’s as genuine as you’ve been with me. Don’t think I’m stupid,” he takes you into the foyer and turns up the large staircase. You wriggle as panic swells in me. 

“Please, I’m... I don’t know what I’m doing. I told you--” 

You voice fizzles as he remains silent, his expression stone. You look down and shudder in his embrace. He carries you to the second floor and down a hallway. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the four-postered bed, dropping you onto the plush cushion. 

“All you need to worry about knowing how to do, is keeping me happy,” he snarls. “That’s it.” He glares at you with a fearsome leer. “I told you, all I want is you. Not your lies, not your groveling, just you.” 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, “I...” you search his face. “I don’t know how to give you that.” 

He steps closer and bends over you slowly. A hot breath plumes from his nose as he plants his hands on either side of you. You drag yourself up on the bed and he lowers himself to trap you there. He leans in until his nose touches yours. 

“You don’t gotta try so hard,” he brushes his nose on your cloyingly. “You just gotta... be...” his traces down to your cheek, nuzzling you. “Doll,” he tilts his head to nibble your lower lip. He growls and pulls on it until it slips free. 

He frames your chin as he comes down onto an elbow. He crushes his lips to yours and you hum in surprise. His tongue begs for entrance and you easily abide his plea. His hand slips down to your throat as he invades your mouth. Like everything he ever taken, he claims you with brute force. 

[hhughes]

i love your take on the at!reader x jack hughes 🥹 has me over hear giggling and blushing !!!

at!reader and jack definitely sit together on the planes when flying to an away game and the reader falls asleep on his shoulder and when the team teases jack about it, he shushes them and allows her to snuggle in closer to him 🥹🥹🥹

ᡴꪫ ࣪ ݂ thank you. I adore them. and i’m so glad people are liking them as well <33

the first time he sat next to you on the plane was when he got hit in the previous game and his shoulder was acting up a bit. you didn’t have time to schedule an appointment and see him before the team was set to take off for their next game, so you suggested he come see you on the plane so you could hear what was going on and advise him accordingly.

jack ended up falling asleep next to you on that flight and had one of his best games ever when they landed. and jack wouldn’t consider himself a superstitious guy but he sat next to you on every flight after that. you’ve even started to develop your own little routine.

you’ll talk for a bit. catching up on whatever you’ve been doing the past few days. you’ll talk about superficial things at first. like what you watched the night before, what you had for dinner the previous night, what city you like travelling to the most.

but then eventually, a month or two in, no matter how hard you try not to, you form a comfortable friendship with jack and your conversations transform to conversations about how his brothers are doing, what his parents have been up to, and for some reason, all of the failed dates you’ve been on whenever the devils have a night off.

“he did not ask that!” jack laughs, astonished at the newest failed date you’re reliving with him

“he did! and I’ve never left a restaurant faster. I didn’t even finish my wine,” you pout and jack’s sent into another fit of giggles, knowing how much you love your wine.

“you have shit taste in guys,” jack says, smiling slightly when you hit his chest in retaliation

“I do not. there’s just been a couple of bad apples lately,” you mutter

“they’re all finance douchebags,” jack states matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes

“the finance guys deserve love too hughes,” you respond and jack bites his tongue at the way you address him by his last name. he hated when you did it, as if you were trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible and that was your way of making things go back to strictly professional.

“yeah maybe, not from you though. you deserve better,” he says softly, and and you send him a soft smile, your heart squeezing at his words.

not even five minutes after that conversation you were fast asleep on jack’s shoulder, soft breaths hitting his neck.

“hey, is doc up there? I need to talk to her,” jack hears one of the guys yell but doesn’t move or reply, not wanting to wake you.

“she’s sleeping,” jack explains as soon as nate comes into view

“I really gotta talk to her,” nate says, looking towards you hesitantly, as if he’s contemplating whether or not to wake you up.

“it can wait,” jack whispers, his tone making it clear he’s not negotiating on the statement but nate tries anyway.

“jack—“

“you’re not waking her up,” jack whispers sending nate a look and the older guy nods as he sighs

“yeah okay; it can wait,” nate says, making his way back to his seat and jack frowns as you shift and mumble incoherently

“jack” you murmur sleepily into his neck and he can’t respond for a few seconds because of the butterflies threatening to fly from his stomach out his mouth

“go back to sleep baby. I mean —“ jack panics, trying to backpedal but relaxes when he realizes you’re out again, probably not even having heard the pet name slip out and he releases a relieved sigh, resting his head on top of yours when his eyes start to feel heavy.

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

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[omega-e123]

Prequel to this

A week ago…

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Shadow physically swallows his pride and knocks on Amy’s door. The hedgehog was in town, deciding to give himself a break from tracking down Eggman as per Rouge’s advice. At first he shoved her aside, “Don’t tell me what to do” until a few close calls happened while his mind was preoccupied. Now here he is.

No answer. Ridiculous. What was he doing here. Lowering his fist, Shadow was about to turn around and leave until the door swung open.

“Shadow? It’s been a while since I last saw you. What are you doing here?” Amy asked, clearly surprised and confused as to why the hedgehog has sought her out. She quickly adds“Oh! Not that I mind. Come in!”

Amy steps aside to let Shadow in but he stays put. There’s no need, he wasn’t planning on staying long. Shaking his head, he declines her offer. “Rose, I’ve come to ask for your assistance”

“With what? Hard to believe you need my help,” She replies, crossing her arms. “Come on in, I insist. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to be sticking their nose in our business.”

Reluctantly Shadow steps in and Amy closes the door behind him. “So what do you need?”

His fists clenched as he struggled to get the words out. A sigh is let out, “Do you recall when you had asked me if I had a special person? Someone that I care deeply about.”

Pink ears perk up and her hands untangle themselves. “Yeah!! You said you didn’t have one! The closest person you could think of was Rouge, but she was more like how Tails is to Sonic,” Amy exclaims, “Who is it! Oh pleaaasse, you gotta tell me,” She clasps hers around one of Shadow’s fists, causing him to inch back.

Gently, Shadow pries his hand from Amy. “That is only for me to know. How does one go about apologizing?”

“Alright, fine. Keep your secrets, Shadow. I’ll just ask Rouge about it later. So, did you do something wrong?” She asks, tilting her head. Amy doesn’t doubt that Shadow may have said some off putting words that would have caused this person to withdraw.

He looks off to the side, avoiding her eyes, “That.. I have no knowledge of. Their behavior towards me has changed drastically. If it was something I did, I wish to make amends.”

A wide smile finds itself on the pink hedgehogs face. This is perfect! “Well, flowers always makes things better! Just talk to them. I’m sure they’ll be understanding.”

“I see.. Does it matter the kind of flowers?”

“Not really, but I’d go with your gut. I’m sure they’ll like whatever you get.”

Nodding, he thanks her and takes his leave.

✦✧✦✧

The next few days were spent agonizing over what yep of flowers he should get. Hand pick them or go to a shop? What should he say when he sees you? If he sees you.

That’s right, the man’s gotta hunt you down in a city full of mobians. He could call you to meet up if it weren’t for him going straight to voicemail. Maybe Rouge or Amy would know where you regularly hang out? Having Sonic help wou— hell no. No, no, no. No way he’s stoop so low to get that hedgehog’s help. If he did, Sonic would hold it over his head forever. Shadow, only himself, could run around the city looking for you. That would end up taking forever and destroying the flowers. Rouge and Amy it is.

Shadow decided to go to a nearby flower shop. All the ones he picked were the same ones in that flower field you two stargazed at. It was when he really opened up to you. About the Ark.. Maria.. His eyes close, reminiscing that night. The way you two were lying side by side, pointing at the constellations. Originally he was going to escort you home afterwards, but you fell asleep soundly next to him. Brave choice letting your guard down in the middle of nowhere. Shadow stayed with you until dawn, keeping a watchful eye. Every few minutes or so his gaze fell on to your sleeping form. Muscles tug on his lips, forming a tiny smile.

He received a call stating you’ve been spotted at his favorite cafe. Something, something, looked depressed. Immediately Shadow hung up and rushed over. Dodging civilians and disobeying traffic laws. There he was met with your slumped over form, staring off into space.

Flower stems threatened to crumple as he held the bouquet tightly. You are absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.

Shadow marches on closer, reaching out to tap your shoulder. . .

[lostberet]

˚ ༘ ♡ ⋆.˚ WORLDTOUR teaser | ot7 (m)

𐙚 synopsis: The year 2026 has arrived, and instead of returning to their loving jobs as Idols, Bangtan is stuck serving South Korea after a mysterious outbreak. However, what these two jobs have in common is their World Tour.

༘⋆ genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , romance , violence, suspense , smut ; military au , idol au? ,

༘⋆ disclaimer: Violence, Gore, Graphic Violence, Use of Weapons, Mention of death, eventual smut, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

༘⋆ a/note: ANOTHER SERIES, hello my jelly fishies, this is a series that will be broken up into a mini-series for each member, please let me know who's tour you'd like to read first!

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 7:35 pm

“I apologize, but there is not enough space for you and your crew at this moment, captain.” There was commotion, each service worker going into their own phone calls answering, some sobbing and others yelling in frustration, “Please stay safe, I will send a boat whenever there is one available.” 

Yoongi removed the head-phone caller from his head, taking in a deep breath as he stared at the large screen before him. A world map showing multiple red dots of the Korean Military’s location, and some of them were his friends. 

“They’ll be fine.” A familiar voice said beside him, Yoongi turned his head, meeting NamJoon’s. Yoongi only remained silent and Namjoon took his silence as a rejection, “SeokJin wants to have dinner together.”

Namjoon tired again, trying to bring his older brother back from his dark thoughts, “I can’t stomach anything right now.” Namjoon nodded, a faint smile on his face as he patted Yoongi’s back, “I know.. But whole they’re out there━ surviving━ so are we back here.” 

Japan, Tokyo               time: 7:37 pm 

“Hyung!” Hoseok turned from his still-position, his vision blurry from the heavy rain, “yeah?”  Squinting, he was able to make up one of his members, “Hyung, time for dinner, chief also has some information regarding international news,” Jimin’s voice was calm, his body turning to look out into the city. The rain filled the silence between them. Hoseok only swallowed, he was worried, nervous━ yet, what he was feeling was nothing compared to what Jimin felt. 

Jimin will be able to know more about the two younger ones. The two who were selected to actually fly across the world in where they had absolutely no contact. Hoseok held onto Jimin’s shoulder, “I’m sure everything is fine!” Hoseok chirped, a bright smile on his lips. Jimin only gave a small smile back. He was just thankful that among all this chaos, he had a brother with him.

United States of America, Texas - San Antonio      4:30 am

“We gotta get moving, let’s go soldiers!” an American soldier commanded as he waved the small group into a building, shutting the door behind him. 

The American soldier removed his helmet, turning to another American soldier, “when is the plane arriving?” The American took a while to respond as he checked his watch, “In about 5 minutes, captain.” 

The American Captain nodded, clenching his jaw as he looked at his small team, his eyes landing on the two foreigners, “Ya hear that, you two?” The Captain bit back a grin, “you motherfuckers are going back home.” 

Jungkook leaned against the concrete wall, panting from running a few miles, a toothy smile visible as he heard the Captain’s words. He looked over at Taehyung, who smiled at the thought of going back to Korea. 

“We’ll have to go down to Mexico, from there, the flight will be directly towards Jeju Island.” The American soldier informed the crew, earning nods in response. 

The clock had struck 4:35 am, and the door’s of the safe house were opened once more, the American Captain commanding his troops to run towards the plane location━ 1 mile away. 

Taehyung jogged behind the Captain and one other American soldier, Jungkook was right behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the dark morning. Taehyung wasn’t tired, he’d trained to the point that running miles didn’t make his heart pump to the point of fainting. So, why was his heart pumping so fast? 

It became so loud to the point that he only heard his heartbeat against his chest━ it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was right, his whole body felt it, but he kept moving forward. He’ll be on the plane home no less than a mile away. 

“Get down!” Before Jungkook could process the foreign warning, a building on his far left exploited━ sending building pieces flying towards their direction and with it, the familiar grunts and screams of death. “Everyone run!” 

It took a second for Jungkook’s body to react before he started springing to the desired location. His eyes focused on Taehyung’s back. As the group got closer to the military base, sounds of gun-shots started taking over the grunts and screams. Startled by the sudden fire, Jungkook dropped to his knees, covering his ears━ a bad reflex response his body had come up. However, his arm was being pulled by one of the American Soldiers, “Get up━we’re almost there!” 

Almost being dragged by the American, Jungkook stumbled upon his feet, running alongside them. His reaction had cost him some time. Upon entering the gate to the military airport, he witnessed Taehyung entering the plane, along with 2 others. 

20 feet more and Jungkook will also be in that plane. 19 more feet and Jungkook was tackled down on the floor, the sound of fire getting louder and louder━ but Taehyung’s call was the only thing Jungkook could hear. 

And as the door of the plane closed and the plane rose from the ground up to the air━ the last image of Taehyung Jungkook will never forget was how he still reached for him.  And the last image of Jungkook Taehyung got to witness was how he was being dragged off the ground by the American Captain, his gun firing at the dead. 

It was 4: 50am when Taehyung threw his helmet against the metal floor of the plane, pacing around, his body trembling as he tried wrapping his head over what had just happened. He wasn’t going back home without Jungkook.

It was 6:00 am when Taehyung had come up with a plan to return to America and find Jungkook. It was also the time the plane began to share the same trembling as Taehyung’s body. It was 6:15 am when Kim Taehyung’s plane crashed into Mexico, Monterrey. 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:05 pm

The small lobby held a few soldiers, it only held the ones who had loved ones internationally━ So, SeokJin, Yoongi and NamJoon found themselves in that same room, awaiting their turn to receive their news. 

“Jun-ha,” The Captain called out, “Your sister is doing just fine in Thailand. The Thailand Military will bring her home, she’ll take a plane back to Korea in about a day.” The sound of sobs echoed in the room, 

It was 8:15 when the group was dismissed, bringing panic and confusion among the oldest Bangtan members, “Captain, what about our boys?” SeokJin called out, earning a few looks from the leaving soldiers, “Hoseok and Jimin are just fine in Japan.” 

“We know they’re fine, we’re talking about Taehyung and Jungkook.” NamJoon butt-in, his eyes dancing across the Captain’s face, trying to find any sense of emotion. The Captain only licked his lips, avoiding eye contact, “about that..” 

“I swear to god, if something happened to them━” Yoongi stepped in, panic running through his veins before the Captain spoke, “They are fine. Separated but fine.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Japan, Tokyo               time: 8:10 pm 

“Okay.. Taehyung is on his way..” Jimin muttered, his leg bouncing as he tried to calm his nerves, “What about Jungkook?” Hoseok looked between the Captain and Jimin, “Jungkook will take his plane from Miami, we’re not sure when, but he’s safe.” 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:13 pm

“Thank God..” Seokjin sighed, his head falling into his arms, relief falling into his body. His boys were coming home. Not together, but soon. 

Japan, Tokyo | South Korea, Jeju Island              time: 8:30 pm

Jimin and Hoseok stood on top of the military base, guarding and scanning the area. It was their turn to stand guard for the night. Jimin felt drained, his eyes only focusing on the far distance of the safe house. His thoughts eating him away. 

“Park, Jung, you two copy?” The Captain’s voice echoed through their radio, Jimin slightly turned his head towards Hoseok. Hoseok grabbed his radio, “Yes, Captain, over.”

“Come to the lobby.” 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:33 pm

“You told us they were fine!” Yoongi yelled, his eyes burning with tears, “The plane fell near a safe base, I’m sure if━” 

“Sure of what?! Do you even know if Taehyung is alive?” Yoongi cut the Captain off, SeokJin bringing Yoongi to sit back down on the chair, “Yoongi’s right.. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.. But.. we want to know if Taehyung survived..” 

United States of America - Dallas, Texas          6:36am

“What..” Jungkook’s voice came out faint, almost a whisper as the color of his face drained, “We’re sending the Mexican safe house near the accident to check the place.. In the meantime, you will head to Miami for your flight.” 

“I’m not going anywhere until I know about Taehyung.” Jungkook said, the American Captain only sighed, “You’ll know, but you need to get to Miami, go back home.” 

Mexico, Monterrey         10:25 am

Taehyung coughed, his eyes opening as he scanned the area, the beaming sun burning his face. The air was very hot against his face, and with a grunt, he pulled himself from the ground. The moment he stood on his feet, he felt the pain run through his spine, he hissed and crunched down. 

“Fuck..” he muttered, his hands running through his body. He hadn’t broken a bone, thank god for that, but his thigh was bleeding, a deep cut, too. He looked around, but there wasn’t much he could do. Just walk it out. 

12:09 pm

Taehyung reached a point where his leg couldn’t keep up, causing him to stop near a small town. Silence welcomed him, no life in sight, and he didn’t mind. His uniform was becoming unbearable, and his thigh was hurting too much. 

He stumbled upon a small store, entering and blocking the entrance behind him. And just like that, Taehyung found a small place that kept him safe for the day. When Night time fell, the heat of Mexico kept him warm, but his thigh still ached. He couldn’t find anything to fix it, he’ll have luck next time. 

That was if he wasn’t found first. 

2024 © LOSTBERET, all rights reserved. please do not copy, plagiarize, translate, repost, or steal my work.

[chaoticcupcakeee]

Chapter Five: The Club and Terrible Timing

***BEFORE YOU READ ANY FURTHER THERE IS GOING TO BE SEX, HEAVY BDSM THEMES, AND OTHER GENERAL NSFW THINGS. IF YOU ARE A MINOR/A BLANK BLOG/ A BLOG WITH NO AGE PLEASE DO NOT INTEREACT! IF I SEE IT, I WILL BLOCK IMMEDIATELY! THANKS!<3***

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Warnings: SOOO much angst in this chapter IM SORRY! smut! oral f receiving, dry humping, kissing, alcohol consumption, slight inspection kink,dirty talk, also lots of fluff!!! Eddie and Steve are in their early to mid 40s and reader is in her mid 20s

Summary: Violet tries to get over her break-up by taking you to clubs all across Indiana which you happily oblige. Your latest adventure not turning out how either of you had planned.

Author's Note: Hi my loves! I hope you're all doing well! i'm sorry for not uploading in a month, i've not had the motivation or the energy... and i've re written this chapter a bunch! but i hope you all like it! plenty more chapters to come! 9k

**Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four**

(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)

“Okay I gotta go Eds, I’m gonna be late” you say, pulling yourself off the older man’s lips. Eddie’s grip being too strong, pulling you back into his arms.

“Nuh uh, this is a crime of the highest order, a King needs his Queen!” He announces dramatically. You giggle into Eddie’s skin, breathing in his scent. You thought of abandoning school all together today, and spending the day with him while Violet was at work. The two of you barely got any time together in the basement anymore now that Violet wasn’t over at Quinns anymore, or away at her mom’s. You snuck in sleepovers when she would be  working overnights. Otherwise you and Eddie squeezed into your tiny apartment, spending every second together that you could. As if the universe knew exactly how to punish you, your phone rings. 

“Hi babe” you answer kindly.

“Hi, so we’re going out tonight.” Violet announces bluntly on the other end of the phone.

“Where are you taking me now?” you ask, a slight amusement in your tone. Violet had been doing her best to get over Quinn by taking you out to various bars and clubs across the state of Indiana. You weren’t really the type to go to a new bar every weekend. But you love Violet, if this was helping her stop hurting, then you’d do it forever for her.

“A bar in the city, I’ll come pick you up at 7!” she says excitedly before hanging up. You sigh, putting your phone back down on the bed, smiling at Violets infectious energy. You felt guilty at the tug in your stomach, disappointed that you didn’t have another night to yourself with Eddie.

“Alright mister I gotta go, I can stop by after class” you say reluctantly, going back to moisturizing your face.

“No stay” he protests scooping you up in his arms, and showering you with kisses all over your face.

The two of you had just spent a very domestic morning together, eating breakfast in the basement while Eddie worked on a new campaign, the two of you getting ready in the bathroom. You had just put on your bra and panties while Eddie was shedding his clothes to get into the shower.

You watch him pout from the mirror, your back turned to him. You didn’t really want to leave him, but you wanted to go to the library before class and now that Violet was taking you out tonight, you needed to get it done now. You blew a kiss to him as he reluctantly got into the shower, tail tucked between his legs like a dog.

You sneak peaks of your beautiful boyfriend in the shower while you brush your teeth. You never could get over just how good looking he is, body covered in tattoos, his greying curls, his slightly toned arms from playing guitar all his life, and his long fingers currently running through his hair. You tried to fight it, but you were now a full blown Eddie Munson addict. Addicted to his touch, his smile, his laugh, the crinkling around his eyes from years of smiling, his kisses, and most importantly the way he made you feel. You could feel your body heat up with desire, a storm at your center.

Your eyes meet Eddies, a smirk plastered across his face, eyebrow raised playfully. You roll your eyes lightly in response, shaking your thoughts of Eddie out of your head. You try to hide a smile that’s threatening to seep onto your lips.

Half naked you start to head back into Eddies room to get dressed for the day. When a pair of wet hands grab your waist pulling you for a hug. You scream out in surprise, wrapping your arms around Eddies very wet ones. You can hear his giggling in your ears, your resolve diminishing, giving into your boyfriend antics and laughing alongside him.

He slips the few items of clothing you were wearing off quickly, pulling you into the steaming hot shower. Eddie’s more beautiful up close under the water, his long eyelashes glittering with water droplets, and his lips red and plump from the steam.

Not being able to resist him anymore you go onto your tippy toes to kiss him, his arms scooping you up bringing you closer to him. The kiss was one of softness and affection. Not like times in the dungeon where his kisses were rough and bruising. These ones were like he was trying to show you how much he cared about you. Soft but firm, passionate but not dominating. You smile against his lips, feeling his smiling right back at you, savoring this moment.

“You’re so beautiful” he says breathlessly as he pulls back, pushing some of your now wet hair out of your face.

You cringe at his words; you’ve been working on trying to believe him but it’s hard. You shove your head into his chest, allowing him to encase you. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, you felt safe, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this safe and at home. Not even when you were a kid or when you got a hug from either of your parents, it was something entirely different. If only you could stop this moment, and live in it forever, or go back when you were feeling sad. You realize now what people mean when they say, “When you know you know”, it just feels different, it feels easy.

Guilt always followed this feeling, how could you feel so deeply for someone and not be able to tell your best friend. It was starting to eat away at your heart and soul. You and Eddie had decided that you were going to tell her tomorrow, and you were both excited and terrified at the same time. You just hoped that over time she would be able to see just how happy the two of you made each other.

Eddies hand forces your face up to his, letting the water wash away your guilt and be present with him. He smiles at you warmly, you smile back, the entire world in his eyes. Reminding you that everything was going to be okay. He holds your head in one of his hands caressing your cheek, bringing his lips to your forehead and leaving a kiss there. How did he know you so well that he knew what you were thinking without you even having to tell him? You swoon at his action, redness spilling onto your cheeks.

He turns you around, dips your head back so the running water drenches your hair. He massages slow circles into your scalp, forcing a moan from your lips. You let him lather your hair in shampoo and massage it into your scalp. He takes his time, being meticulous not to miss a single strand of hair. Leaving little kisses on your neck in between lathers. Even simple acts like this, no sexual touching or tension, just the two of you together. It was enough to quiet your brain for the rest of the day, he knew how to calm you down when your brain was working too hard or when your mind needed a break.

Once your hair was squeaky clean and conditioned, Eddie took a washcloth and started washing the rest of your body, scrubbing soap into every area of your skin, being just as meticulous as he was with your hair. Touching you gently and affectionately, you could feel all the unsaid feelings and words by each touch of his hands or body on your skin.

You turn your attention to him, asking him to bend down so you can get the curls at the top of his head, he grandiosely kneels down for you to properly reach the top of his head. The two of you giggling at the action. Your fingers get to work trying to mimic the massage he had given you, making him moan into your chest, leaving open mouth kisses on your tummy. Your body tensing slightly, all your negative body image issues threatening to pour out of your ears. But Eddie’s strong hands grab your waist softly, quieting those thoughts once more. You marvel at his touch, forcing yourself to concentrate on washing all the shampoo from his hair. His curls feel silky and soft in your fingers, the grey marbled into his curls like a galaxy.

You finish conditioning his hair and washing his body, the two of you stand under the water together, completely clean but not ready to get out of the shower. You have your arms wrapped around his waist, and his around your shoulders, resting his head on top of yours.

Eddie eventually turns the water off and gets out of the shower, offering you a hand. Taking his hands in yours letting him help you out of the shower and wrap a fluffy towel around you.

“Thank you for stayin’ with me” Eddie says softly, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for making me stay” you mutter into his chest, as much as you wanted to go to the library, you could never pass up time like this. You hear Eddie hum around you, his chest vibrating against your face, warming your insides.

You let Eddie dry you off and dress you, leaving kisses on your bare skin before putting each article of clothing on. Then you do the same for him. Each kiss to open skin, every piece of clothing, a sign of devotion to the other. So many words not said but shown instead, you didn’t know for certain if Eddie felt the same way you did, but your heart hoped that he did.

The adoration for him seeping through your pores, it filling you up threatening to burst, three words stuck in your throat. THE three words almost slipping off your tongue, but you couldn’t let yourself say them. Not before Violet knew, not until you weren’t a secret anymore.

 Plus, the two of you had only been together for a few months and you didn’t want to jump the gun and make a fool of yourself. Eddie just made you feel important and cared for, which just made it harder to hide it.

“Earth to Y/N,” you hear Eddies voice, pulling you from your thoughts. His rich brown eyes looking at you like you put the sun in the sky, paired with his goofy as ever smile, Forcing a smile onto your face.

“So, listen as much I’d love to see your cute little butt after class. I promised a friend of mine I’d help them out with something. But text me at any time if you need a ride or if you need anything tonight, okay?” he says, his voice kind but slightly serious. You know that he really would drop anything if you really needed him. A pout forms across your lips, you were hoping to stop by and thank him for the sweet morning the two of you were having together, thoughts of his cock on your tongue swirling in your brain.

You reluctantly give Eddie one more kiss before heading out the door for the day. The day was dragging on, classes were almost over for the semester and for the most part a majority of your professors had given up actually teaching or just droned on about upcoming projects that you were due. Sociology was never the same after Steve left, you noticed some students had even dropped the class, you didn’t blame them. It made you sad, thinking about Steve, you know what he was likely doing right now, probably drinking himself to the bottom of another bottle.

 And it was all your fault, if you hadn’t had stupid crush on your teacher, Steve would still be doing what he loved. At least the semester was almost over so you wouldn’t have the burden of being reminded multiple times a week in class. The second your new professor dismissed you all, you hurried out of the room quickly not wanting to be tortured any longer by the images of Steve at home, slumped over his desk with tears in his eyes.

You had re played that moment so many times since it had happened, trying to make sense of it, trying to figure out why you felt so deeply about him. When Eddie made you the happiest you had ever been. You felt so guilty feeling so strongly about someone else, especially after the morning you and Eddie shared. Your heart just couldn’t help but ache for the man you left in that big house, all alone, drinking his sorrows away.

I’m a fucking monster

You pinch your eyebrows with your fingers, willing all the scattered pieces of yourself back together. You blow out all the air in your lungs and push your key into the ignition, driving away from school, leaving all thoughts of Steve behind.

Violet had decided to come to your place early to get ready, it reminded you of when the two of you used to get ready for school dances together when you were younger. She insisted on the both of you wearing the least amount of clothing as possible, much to your dismay.

“Since when did you become a prude? We are both hot, young, single women. We deserve to have men and women alike ogle at us from time to time. It builds self-confidence!” she declares assuredly.

Not single Not single Not single

Violet decided on a black lacey strappy dress that hugged all of her curves just right, her eyes sultry lined with two smokey black wings, and her purple hair curled to perfection sitting right above her butt. She looked like every nerdy guys gothic dream. You decide on something a little less scandalous, but still approved by Violet. Wearing a black bralette with a black mesh long sleeve over it, extenuating your breasts, pairing it with a short black mini skirt with a slit going half way up the side; and your black combat boots.

 She had convinced you to take a few shots before going to the bar, your head already delightfully buzzed. You were just putting one more coat of lip gloss, when you hear Violet call out from the other room.

“Ubers here!”

The two of you squeeze into the back of an uber and head to the bar. Violet told you on the way that evidently it was a new bar in town that everyone has been talking about and posting all about over social media. Violets extensive knowledge of the bar scene completely going over your head.

The Uber let the two of you off in front of a building covered in red neon lights, you could already hear the loud music coming from inside of the building. Violet grabs your hand and the two of you head inside. The bar was more crowded than you expected, all of you smooshed into the building like sardines. The floor vibrated with how loud it is, the music combined with people chattering away made your head hurt. You make your way past other patrons and head towards the bar, Violet sits down confidently, flipping her hair behind her back.

“I’m gonna see if I can get someone to buy us some drinks, follow my lead.” She ushers the two of you closer to a group of guys who looked like they have had one too many beers already.

“Hey boys,” Violet says slyly, she was always good with getting her way. She never acted spoiled or threw a fit if she didn’t, but you always admired how confident she was and how good she is with people. She never went home with or even danced with any of the men she flirted with, her heart still stuck on Quinn, just using them to keep her mind off of her broken heart. You look around at the rest of the bar, uninterested in any of the men that were stood before you.

The bar was dimly lit, with a few candles placed on various tables around the room. The actual bar took up a majority of the back wall, filled with any kind of liquor you could possibly want. The people occupying the bar varied in age, some younger, some older, all seemingly having a good time. Couples held up in the corners of the room, talking quietly, kissing or other various salacious activities. On the right side of the room was a small dance floor, where patrons were dancing, some more lewdly than others.

When you finally returned your attention back to Violet, she handed you a drink and fluttered her eyelashes at the group of men before whisking you away to the corner of the room.

“Why are men so gross? I swear I could barely get one of them to look me in the eye, like I know my tits are great but they aren’t THAT great,” she slurs slightly, the shots catching up to her already.

The two of you sit in a corner of the room, finishing off your very strong drinks. You sat back in amusement at every guy that would pick up the courage to stop by at your table, trying to pick up one or the both of you, some more pathetic than others. You looked over at Violet every once in a while, making sure that this wasn’t all for nothing and that she was having a good time.

Violet put up a good front, it was pretty easy with her eyes disguised in black eyeliner, but you could see through to the sadness underneath it all. Beneath all of her confidence and extroverted tendencies, was agony. The type of sadness that sits in your stomach and rots, eating you from the inside out. You tried not to push her too much, asking if she was okay and told her that you were here whenever she needed to talk. But she brushed you off every single time. But you knew, she didn’t even need to tell you how she felt.. you could feel it ripping her apart on the inside. You see her smile fading slightly after turning down yet another guy. You see and in and you take it.

“Vi.. are you okay? Like really? And please no more bullshit, if I have to hear one more “I’m okay” or “I’m fine” I’m gonna scream,” you plead with your best friend.

Her shoulders drop, all hints of happiness leaving her face, behind her eyeliner she looked tired. Not just physically tired, the tired you get from pretending to be okay when you’re not, not sleeping at night because your mind won’t shut off. She turns towards you, wetness forming in the corners of her eyes, her mask finally off.

“No, I’m not, and I don’t know when I will be, I keep waiting and waiting that one day it won’t hurt so much.. I just thought that if I pretend, that eventually one day it won’t hurt so bad... but it hasn’t. For fucks sake I thought we were going to get married!... Well I wanted to get married,” she sniffles.

You grab her hand and squeeze it tightly inside yours, just grateful that she was letting you in. She looks at you gratefully and pulls you into a tight hug. You didn’t have any words to make it better, to numb her pain.. you just squeezed her tightly back and hoped it was enough.

“I dunno what I’d do without you bubs, you’re literally the only reason I’m holding it together right now,” she admits.

Guilt floods your system like a tsunami, even more unsure now how she was going to take the new about you and Eddie. Not only would you be rubbing your very happy relationship in her face, but it’s with her fucking dad, her fucking dad. No, she deserved to know. No matter what happens now, Eddie is just as important to you as she is, and you weren’t going to let him go. Violet would just have to understand.

“Alright no more sad talk, we’re here to have fun!”

She grabs your arm and takes you back over to the bar, ordering another round of shots for the two of you. Tequilla burning your throat as the two of you stumble onto the dance floor.

 It’s a blur of sweat, glitter, and bodies. The two of you sway your hips back and forth to the beat of the music, giggling at one another, the alcohol officially taking effect. More and more people gather onto the dance floor, filling the room with sweat and haze.

You and Violet smile at each other, holding hands and singing obnoxiously loud to the songs playing. You can see the worry and the sadness evaporate off Violet’s face, you smile to yourself, wishing all the happiness in the world for your best friend.

After a few more songs, Violet excuses herself to go to the bathroom. You linger at the edge of the dance floor, not wanting to dance by yourself. You take the time to people watch, looking at the various patrons at the bar, guys trying to score, girls laughing with their friends, older men sitting at the bar nursing their drinks, the bartenders running around behind the bar like chickens with their heads cut off, and Eddie.

Wait.. EDDIE?!

You do a double take and then a triple take to make sure your alcohol goggles weren’t skewing your vision, and you weren’t imagining your very sexy boyfriend at a random bar with some guy. You smile and start to walk over to the table where Eddie was at to say hello. But you stop in your tracks, the closer you get, the back of the other man’s head becomes increasingly more familiar. Steve fucking Harrington.

Your body freezes, your brain working a million miles a minute.

Steve knows Eddie?

Eddie knows Steve?

How?

Why?

Your body stiffens even further when you see Steve’s large hand envelop the upper part of Eddies thigh, traveling farther and farther up his leg. Your breath caught in your throat, a lump making its home there.

How could he?

What the hell?

What the fuck is going on?

Eddie looks at Steve, kind of sad but also startled, his eyes wander behind Steve’s head and locks eyes with you. His mouth hung open agape. That’s the last thing you see before the tears cloud your vision. You push past the crowd of people in the bar, making your way to the front door. Pushing the door open, the cold air forcing goosebumps across your skin.

Unable to hold the tears anymore, you let them flow freely down your face. You look around you and you don’t know what to do or where to go. You can’t leave, but you don’t want to stay either. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to self soothe and protect yourself from the cold.

That’s when you hear the loud music from inside the bar followed by the front door closing, you hear a familiar voice call out to you.

“Y/N, it’s not what you think-, “ Eddie says desperately.

“What was his hand doing on your leg? I thought you were helping out a friend tonight?” You cut him off, trying to keep your voice level and hold back anymore tears.

You knew it, you knew Eddie was too good to be true. He’s too nice, and warm, you felt too safe around him. Every happy moment with him comes crashing down in an instant, you never really mattered to him. You were always just his daughter’s best friend, a little kid, someone to mess around with. How could you be so blind, your own stupidity kicking you in the face and knocking the air out of your lungs. You didn’t even know who you were madder at, Eddie, or at yourself.

“Fuck I was! I mean I am!” Eddie says, panic setting in his voice.

“So, him feeling you up, that’s you helping out a friend? How charitable, Eds” you spit back. You could allow yourself to be angry, but you wouldn’t break, not right now. Not if you had to go back inside and face Violet.

“Yes! No, I- we are JUST friends, baby I promise” Eddie pleads.

“I’d say we’ve been more than friends Ed” you hear another familiar voice, as Steve steps out into the midnight air.

Your heart could crumble into a million pieces by Steve’s confession, you’d fall to the ground if your brain wasn’t working so hard, buzzing like a million bees working overtime.

“You need to tell me what’s going on right now or I’m grabbing Violet and I’m never speaking to either of you ever again.” The hurt in your voice noticeable, you bite your lip to stop your lip from quivering. Eddies rubs his hands across his face, trying to find the words to explain.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Steve says, hands on his hips, all three of you looking at each other with so many unsaid questions.

“Yeah, we know each other very fucking well Steve,” you seethe, trying to hide your hurt. Steve flinches slightly, looking guilty.

“Eddie, what the fuck is going on… If-if I was just going to be a little fling for you, a heads up would have been nice! I-I let you in, I let you see every part of me and then you do THIS? I’ve been hurt in the past, but I never, ever, thought I’d be hurt by you” you choke back a sob, as angry tears start streaming down your face. You know by now that your mascara and make up were completely ruined, you felt more vulnerable than you had ever felt in your entire life.

Your heart might as well have been ripped from your chest and stomped on right in front of you on the cold hard pavement. You look at the two faces staring back at you, Steve still utterly confused and bewildered, and Eddie, well Eddie’s face mirrored yours. His eyes misty, you can see his Adams apple bobbing in his throat. Steve runs his hands nervously through his hair before speaking.

“Look this is all my fault, okay? I, shit, I’ve been so hung up on everything that happened between us that I just wanted to feel good. Eddie and I, we used to have something in the past, but it’s not happened in a long time. I don’t really know what I was thinking, I was just being stupid.” Steve admits, looking down at his shoes, his cheeks red in embarrassment.

“Between the two of you? What the fuck happened between the two of you?” a fire lit up behind Eddies eyes.

You sigh, not having it in your heart to be angry with Steve, he must have just not known that the two of you were together, or maybe Eddie hadn’t mentioned it yet.

“Remember that guy.. that kissed me... and I came over to your house crying?” you say defeated; you point over at Steve. He raises his hand with a sympathetic look on his face.

“Guilty is charged,” Steve says lightheartedly, trying to lighten the mood.

“YOU kissed her? Jesus Christ this is so fucked up” Eddie says, pacing between the two of you, trying to clear his head. Steve nods his head, his eyes moving back and forth trying to put his thoughts together.

“Did I kiss you when you guys were together? Did you come over and check on me while you were with him?” Steve’s finger pointed at Eddie, his eyes sadder than they were a minute ago.

Eddies eyes now huge wildfires and looks at you, crossing his arms.

“What the fuck is he talking about Y/N, when did you go and see him?” he spits.

Now it was your turn for your mouth to open and close, your brain no longer able to form any words.

“No Steve, we weren’t together when we kissed. Eds listen it wasn’t like that, I just felt bad and was worried about him because he stopped coming to class. When I got to his place he was drunk and I just helped him clean up his house that’s all.” You reassure Eddie, but his expression was blank and his eyes cold.

“I asked when Y/N, when did you go over to his house?” he mutters quietly.

“3 Days ago,” you admit apologetically, looking anywhere besides Eddies disapproving eyes.

“You mean the day after we had sex? The day after “I” let YOU in?” Eddie fumes.

You bite your lip and look at him, searching for your Eddie, searching for the warmth in his eyes. But you saw nothing, he didn’t even look like himself, his face contorted in anger.

Eddie takes a few steps towards you, a frown on his face and hurt in his eyes. You flinch at his expression, you have never seen Eddie look so mad and upset, it’s so jarring. You rarely even heard the man yell.

“So, let me get this straight, you kiss Steve, and then you came running over to my house, and you let ME kiss you? And then when after we have sex, pretty fucking good sex I might add, you go over to HIS house? Un-fucking-believable Y/N,” he snarls, his voice breaking at the end.

You slump your shoulders, you needed to make him understand, to know how much he means to you.

“Eddie, I- “

“You’re fucking my dad?” You hear a voice call out from the entrance of the bar.

All the blood in your body turns to ice, this is not how you wanted her to find out, you and Eddie had a whole plan. That plan likely now in the trash, you didn’t even know if Eddie was going to forgive you.

“Violet, please not now” you hear Eddie say tiredly.

“No wait let ME get this straight” she says, stepping closer to the three of you, tears swimming in her eyes.

“Not only are you fucking my dad, YOU my best friend since middle school, AND you kissed my uncle Steve?!” she says, her lips upturned in a fake smile that was like a slap to the face.

“We were going to tell you tomorrow Vi, I promise I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I just-“ you knew any words that you said to her right now weren’t going to matter, you could tell by the look on her face that she’s already made up her mind. You stifle a sob, looking at Eddie for help.

Eddie turns towards you, but the Eddie you had come to know wasn’t there. Almost no emotion in his eyes, he looks at you mournfully, almost like he pitied you.

“We were waiting until we knew it was serious Vi, it’s not all her fault either, take it easy,” he warns.

“No stop talking, I’ll deal with you later” she snaps, dismissing her father.

“So, what are you some kind of slut? You kiss someone else while you’re with my dad? What kind of fucking monster are you? I don’t even know who you are anymore!” she wails tears like waterfalls down her pretty face.

You didn’t know the answer to her questions, but you knew she was right. You are a monster, you’re like a hurricane that bulldozes everything it touches.

“Violet please, I’m sorry I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. You’re all the family I have, just please let’s go home so we can talk this all out.” your legs wobble, threatening to give out below you, sobs wracking in your chest. Your entire world was crashing down around you, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“No, we’re done, I can’t even look at you right now. Stay the fuck away from me and MY family,” she warns.

Violet turns and walks away from the three of you and the bar, you go to follow her, but a large hand envelops your shoulder.

“You probably shouldn’t,” Eddie says flatly.

“But I need to, I need to make things right, I can’t just leave it like this!” you plead with him, fresh tears blurring your vision.

Eddie nods his head knowing you well enough by now to know why you feel this way. “I think its best if there’s some space from the two of you… and us for now.”

“Wait what? Are you breaking up with me?” you squeak, the words pushing the rest of the air from your lungs. By this point your legs are numb from the cold air, anxiety filled your body making you shake like a leaf and your teeth chatter. You couldn’t even feel the cold anymore, your body feels like it's on fire, threatening to explode from the inside out.

“Eddie please, please don’t do this, don’t do this to me” you plead, begging with everything you have in you, every breath every feeling, every kiss re playing in your brain.

I can’t lose you I can’t lose you I can’t lose you please please please please don’t go

Eddie rubs his hand behind his neck, he looks tired, his eyes rimmed with tears of his own, he blinks them away and looks at you.

“I just need some space, maybe someday we can revisit this, but I can’t do this right now, I need to make things right with my daughter. She comes first, I’m sorry” he explains.

You nod your head in understanding and defeat, of course Violet comes first. Your head was so clouded in panic you forgot about how this would affect his relationship with her.

Eddie looks at Steve and then looks at you, he gives you one final nod before he walks away into the night looking for Violet.

You sink onto the cold hard sidewalk, you put your head on your knees, your back shaking harshly while all the held in tears and sobs come out in droves. You cried for what felt like hours, occasionally hearing drunk people coming out of the bar. Before you knew it the muted music playing in the bar stopped and the lights on the inside went out. You lift your head up to rest on your knees, your eyes surely swollen from all the crying, your whole body hurt. Partially from sitting so long, but also because you don’t think you’ve ever cried so hard in your life. Your eyes hurt, your chest ached, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

You see movement to your left and look to see Steve sitting next to you patiently on the pavement. His arms on his knees, he turns his head to look at you, his eyes full of worry.

“Sorry if I startled you or something, I just- I didn’t like the idea of you being downtown all by yourself in your state. I hope that’s okay” he says kindly.

His warmness making your chest hurt, you didn’t deserve his kindness, or anyone’s kindness after everything that happened.

“You don’t have to stay with me, I’ll just call an uber or something...” you say softly, wiping the rest of the tears from your face.

Steve doesn’t say anything, he just stands up and at first you think he’s going to take you at your word and leave. Then you feel his hand on your back, ushering you up, you start to protest. But he just ushers you silently towards his car. He gets in the driver’s side and turns on the car, then he gets out and helps you into the passenger side, holding you gently.

“I turned the seat warmers on, feel free to turn the heat up, you must be freezing.” He says softly. He shuts your car door for you and then ruffles around in the back seat before opening your car door again and wrapping you up in a warm blanket.

“I have this stashed for emergencies, seems like the right time to use it.” He states, fussing over you making sure you’re completely covered by the blanket.

New tears well in your eyes, your heart spilling out of you, it’s all too much. The whiplash of the argument with Eddie and Violet and now Steve being the sweetest man in the world to you. As if you aren’t the worst person to ever exist. You didn’t deserve this, you should be locked away for your crimes . Not wrapped up in a blanket and handled with care, it wasn’t fair to Eddie or Violet.

“We really were going to tell her, ya know? And- and I didn’t mean for things to happen with Eddie after we kissed, it just happened. It’s all so messy and it’s all my fault, I fucked it all up!” You sob.

Steve looks back at you mournfully.

“I know, honey, I know,” he says softly.

 The two of you sit in some more silence while you cry, then you feel his warm hand start rubbing little circles into your back, which only makes you sob harder, but even so, you find yourself leaning into his touch. Leaning into any type of comfort, your heart hurt too much, you couldn’t take it, you need it to go away.

Eventually, you stop crying and Steve gets in the driver side to drive you home, you just look out the window, allowing your body to thaw under the blanket. You eventually give Steve directions to your apartment, and go back to looking out the window, your eyes getting heavier and heavier the longer you were sitting wrapped in your blanket cocoon.

When you wake, you hear the car door opening and feel Steve’s strong arms scoop you against his chest. You smell his intoxicating cologne; you hadn’t smelled it in so long, but it awoken something in you. You blinked slowly, taking in your surroundings. He had not taken you home, to your lonely apartment filled with the memories of you and Eddie. Instead, you were being carried through the front door of his house and entering a very familiar foyer. Steve sets you down on a comfy couch in a room you assume is the living room.

You stare at him in confusion, your brain fogged over from tonight’s events. He looks a little nervous, his knee bouncing up and down.

“Uh sorry, you fell asleep, and I didn’t like the idea of you going home and being by yourself. I can still take you home if you’d like, I just I dunno...I was worried about you,” he confesses, his honey brown eyes staring up at you expectantly.

You wipe away the sleep and the dried tears from your eyes, you sit up sorely, your body punishing you for sitting on the hard pavement for so long. You feel more vulnerable than you’d like to admit, in Steves house with barely any clothes on. You rub your arms trying to soothe yourself, wrapping yourself up tighter in Steves blanket.

“Thank you” you squeak, your voice hoarse from crying so much. He smiles slightly and nods, scratching the back of his neck before he speaks next.

“You’re welcome to stay...if you’d like, I have plenty of guest rooms for you to sleep in. No pressure though,” he says hurriedly.

You mull over his offer, the idea of staying over made your stomach feel sick with guilt but also burn with curiosity. Then you thought again about getting back in his car, and going back home to your apartment, alone with your thoughts, replaying tonight’s events over and over again.

“If it’s alright with you... I think I’d like to stay,” you say meekly, fidgeting with your hands.

The anxiety on Steve’s face diminishes, nodding at you eagerly. “Please, mi casa es su casa,” he gestures to his house and chuckles lightly to clear the air.

You look at him gratefully, the two of you make some light small talk before he gives you the grand tour of the house. He explains it used to be his parents’ house before they moved to Florida after his dad retired. He went on to tell you that he wasn’t very close with his parents, they always resented him for never marrying or having any kids of his own. You felt even more guilty now, not only had Steve left his job because of you, but that meant more time stuck in this house, thinking about what a disappointment he is to his parents. The self-pity spiral is starting to grow bigger and bigger inside your head once again, the spell only broken when Steve puts his hand on your back, and your mind goes silent.

Focusing on the warmth and pressure his hand is leaving on your back. In contrast to all the shitty things that happened this evening, you’re allowing yourself this one nice thing. It reminded you of simpler times, when you just had a little crush on your sociology professor, before the kiss, before everything with Eddie. You remember the first time he put his hand on your back, it was the first day you went into his office when he helped you take care of that parking ticket. You remember how your insides twisted and turned with excitement. Then, when you became his TA, it was something you looked forward to when the two of you were alone together.

“And this is one of the many guest bedrooms, feel free to pick anyone you like there’s plenty to choose” he states cheerfully.

Steve shows you the rest of the house, your mind boggled by how big the house really is, castle might be a better word for it.

Steve escorts you towards one of the many bathrooms on the second floor leaving you alone to shower and freshen up, the bathroom stocked with the fluffiest towels you’ve ever felt in your entire life. The guest bathroom alone seemed bigger than your whole apartment. You let the hot water envelop you, hugging every part of your body.

You sit on the cold tiles of the shower, trying to figure out what to do. You think about Violet first, the person who ha been your best friend for as long as you can remember, the only one who has always been in your corner, now gone. You feel tears at the edges of your very sore eyes. Then you think of Eddie, the sweetest guy to ever exist, and the only one to ever make you feel worthy of love.

How did you fuck this up so badly?

You let a few more tears fall, meeting the warm water down the drain. You rub your eyes, the skin around your eyes raw from all the crying, you can’t remember the last time you cried this much. It made you feel so small and fragile, like if someone breathed at you the wrong way, you’d crumble into a million pieces. You let a few more tears fall before you take a deep breath and finish your shower. You shake away your thoughts, thinking about how differently this day had started versus how it was ending, everything taken away from you so quickly.

You were grateful for Steves kindness, it felt nice to not be in your apartment. To be away from the mess you had made, you could almost allow yourself to forget.. almost.

When you walk into the guest bedroom you see a pair of plaid boxers and a big grey t-shirt left on the bed for you, you pick up the t-shirt laid out before you and bring it up to your nose. Your shoulders relax as the scent fills your nostrils. The scent of Steve, not even his cologne, just him. It made your brain dizzy. Once you finish getting dressed you hear a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you call out. Steve emerges from the other side of the door, holding a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol. He shakes the bottle in his hand and comes to sit next to you on the bed.

“Oh gosh Thank you so much” you say gratefully taking the glass of water and taking two Tylenol.

Steve waves you off, you will be forever in awe of the way Steve is able to make anything seem like a piece of cake. He never made you feel like a burden, something you are always concerned about. It made you feel a little more at ease.

“You really didn’t have to do all this for me, it’s my own mess that I gotta figure out how to clean up, I feel bad that you went through all this trouble for me” you confess, guilt already filling your chest again. These were the consequences of your own actions, and you needed to deal with it. You think about how unfair you’ve been, not only to Eddie or Violet, but to Steve as well. None of them deserved to be caught up in your hurricane, but yet they all paid the price somehow.

“You’d do it for me...you have done it for me” he says quietly, looking at his hands.

You turn your head, studying his face, he seemed slightly embarrassed but mostly sad.

“You didn’t have to come over and check on me, especially not when I drunk texted you like an idiot. You were so kind, and I was so pathetic.” He runs his fingers through his hair, shaking his head slightly.

“Anyone would have done that Steve, really it’s okay, I didn’t mind helping. Everyone needs some help every now and again,” you say dismissing him.

“Exactly, so why don’t you take your own advice and let me help you?” he counters, sticking up one of his eyebrows in retort.

You try and find a reason, but you couldn’t think of a good one. Your brain is exhausted, you need comfort.. a hug, something.

“C’mere” Steve mumbles, opening his arms to you, like he could read your mind, but knowing you, your face doesn’t hide much. Your pain was probably written all over your face. You didn’t have anything left in you to deny yourself any longer, that left when Eddie did. You crawl into Steves arms and let out a deep breath for one of the first times tonight. He wraps his strong arms around you, the two of you sit like that for a bit. Steve never pulling away, just letting you cuddle up against him for as long as you need.

You sigh in his arms, allowing yourself to fully relax, you wrap your fingers around Steves shirt. Bringing him impossibly closer to you, taking in his intoxicating scent once again. His heartbeat against your ear warming you more than the shower did, making your body relax completely against his. After today’s events, this little bit of affection was like a drug, a drug that was filling your body with need. Desire brewing inside you, begging you to forget, pleading with you to give into your deepest needs.

You pull back from Steve's embrace, just enough to be a couple inches from his face, you could feel his breath on your cheeks. You look into his eyes, but he's not looking at you. He’s looking at your lips, you can see his brain fighting the urge to kiss you. And that diminishes the rest of your resolve, you lean in closer to his lips. Steve eagerly meets you halfway, his lips a hungry attack on your own. Not like the way he kissed you back in his office so many weeks ago, that kiss was swift and innocent. This kiss was one filled with passion and need, he grabs the back of your neck, almost like a promise to himself that he wouldn’t let you go this time. You entwine your fingers into his silky locks at the nap of his neck, pulling him closer to you. That elicits a groan from Steve, only making your need for him grow stronger. His moan makes your brain short circuit, the most primal part of you coming out of its cave, ready to play. You couldn’t even count how many nights during the start of the school year you would imagine what he sounded like, with your hand between your legs.

Steve grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap, you mindlessly grind against his lap selfishly trying to find any type of friction against your core. You moan into each other’s mouths, a song of your combined desperation for each other. The two of you are a tangled mess of hands, lips, and tongues.

Steve grabs at the edges of your (his) shirt, pulling it up and over your head. It takes Steve no time to start his assault on your chest. Leaving open mouthed kisses on your skin, nipping and sucking on your nipples, making you grind down harder on his lap.

“Damn... you’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans into your chest, his voice making you throw your head back in pleasure, answering him with a moan of your own. His eyes wild in lust, slightly bloodshot from the previous events, but still trained on you, like you’re the only thing that mattered in the world right now. Steve's grip on you was firm but not bruising, another way he showed you how much he cared for you, even now. You hold onto his shoulders for support, grinding down faster into his lap. The head of his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, you could feel your arousal soaking the cloth of Steve’s boxers, you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so incredible turned on.

Wanting to see more of him you tug his shirt off too, running your hands through his dark brown chest hair.

He guides you to lay down on the bed, his weight on top of you only adding to the feeling of his cock in between your folds. You moan loudly, pushing your hips against his, the pleasure building deep inside you.

“You sound so pretty baby, so so pretty” Steve praises you, leaving little kisses along your pulse point. He makes his way down your body, leaving kisses on every open patch of skin he could find. Reaching the hem of his boxers hanging lowly on your waist, looking up at you, his eyes asking permission to move forward with his thought. You nod your head quickly, in your hazy state you’d probably let him do about anything to you right now. He leaves a kiss right below your belly button as a thank you as he slides of your (his) boxers, pushing your legs open to fully expose yourself to him.

Steve lets out a pained moan, spreading your lips, inspecting every inch of your center like it was painted my da Vinci himself.

“Jesus christ baby, look at you.. soo wet” He admires, barely audible to you, almost like he was talking to himself. Steve leaves chaste kisses on your thighs, making them slightly in anticipation.  Finally Steve licks a long stripe from your center to your clit, flicking your clit with the point of his tongue.

“Fuck Steve oh-oh my god,” you whimper, you were already so needy and you barely started.

Steve goes to town like a man starved, if it didn’t feel so damn good, you’d be worried that he wasn’t coming up for air. His tongue darting expertly in and out of your core, his handsomely pointed nose rubbing up against your clit making you see stars.

Your legs threaten to close, unable to hold them open any longer, smushing Steve's face. His hands guide your thighs open wider than before, getting impossibly closer to your heat. Your body hurtling embarrassingly fast towards your release already, you grab a fist full of his hair to steady yourself.

Free of consequences, and pain, it’s ecstasy.

Steve moans deliciously into your core, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure down your spine, rolling your hips into his face.

“H-holy shitt, look at you baby, makin’ such a mess for me, such a good girl,” he coos at you, making you clench around nothing. The whole bottom half of his face glistening with your arousal, not that it seemed to bother Steve. He looked like a kid in a fucking candy store, greedily sucking, nipping, and licking every drop you gave him. He’s a man possessed.

With every lick of Steve’s tongue, you were getting closer and closer to pure bliss. The headboard behind you rocking back and forth against the wall obnoxiously, you look down below you to see Steve's hips rocking against the mattress as he was buried deep in between your legs. What a fucking sight.

He's so pretty

That image alone brings you right at the edge, your hips grinding fervently against his face, your combined moans filling the room

 “Yeah, right there, fuck right fucking there!” you wail.

His hands tighten around your thighs, doubling down between your folds.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck I’m gonnna... I’m gonna cum!” you scream as your vision whites out and euphoria floods your system. Your ears ringing, the only thing you can hear is the mixed moans of you and Steve. Your on cloud nine, your brain thanking you, your mind clear of Eddie and Violet, only Steve. Steve's hands, mouth, lips, tongue, everything Steve.

Once you come down from your high, you look at Steve hungrily, sitting up to capture his lips with yours. Your release tangy on his tongue. He wraps his arms around you, smooshing you back onto the bed.

“Your turn” you say with a smirk, flipping him over onto his back.  

“Uh.. no need” Steve says sheepishly, looking down at the wet spot that formed in his grey sweatpants. Your mouth hung open in an “O” shape. Steve just came from eating you out

… holy shit...

“Holy shit” you say, your eyes unable to move from the mess he made in his pants.

“Yeah, holy shit” he chimes in, clearly a little embarrassed by his actions.  You didn’t want him to be embarrassed, he had no need to be. He is just one of the sexiest men alive that’s all, no big deal. You look up at him with lust still in his eyes, and lean over his mess. You leave open mouth kisses on the fabric, licking lightly with your tongue. You taste bits of Steve's release, making you moan wishing for more.

“Jesus- Fuck!” Steve hisses, his hips buckle at the sensation, still sensitive from his climax. You look back up at him innocently, giving him a light kiss on the cheek.   

“What am I gonna do with you, you naughty girl” he smirks, shaking his head back and forth. The question hanging uncomfortable in the air...

What the fuck were the two of you going to do? What the fuck was that?

Eventually the two make your way to the bathroom, Steve leaves momentarily to change into different pants and leaves you to clean yourself. Upon his return he brought you a new pair of boxers and you thank him gratefully. The other pair completely pathetically soiled.

Looking at Steve post orgasm should be its own art exhibit, his grey-brown hair messy from being pulled and tugged, his eyes still slightly blown in lust, his lips pink, and his chest delightfully bare. How could he get even more beautiful? You wished your mind to take a picture to remember this.

Steve walks you back to your room and sits next to you on the bed, so many unsaid words hung in the air. Firstly, you didn’t want Steve to think this was some kind of a rebound, of course it felt good, but you had been wanting Steve since the first day he set foot in the classroom. Then there was Eddie, your wound still fresh from your breakup. You really do care for Eddie, he was the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, but that didn’t diminish your feelings for Steve. You knew that if Eddie found out about what the two of you had done, you’d just hurt him even more than you already have. You stomach started twisting in knots, the mess you made growing bigger by the hour bringing in more casualties. Your brain is even more confused than it was a few hours ago, if that’s even possible.

“This doesn’t have to be a thing, you know? We don’t have to talk about it ever again. Scouts honor,” He confesses, smiling warmly at you.

“I’m so sorry Steve, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I- I don’t know what happened, I just...”

“You’re sorry? I should be the one who’s apologizing, I feel like a fucking monster. You were a little drunk, and so was I, and I didn’t stop it even though I should have. You don’t have to explain yourself to me at all Y/N, okay?” he interrupts.

You feel some tension leaving your shoulders, although you didn’t think it was Steve’s fault at all. But all the energy you had to argue with him, had been squashed by the orgasm Steve so wonderfully gifted to you, your body now beyond exhausted, begging you for sleep. You bring your knees up to your chest and yawn.

“Okay Stevie,” you say, your eyes fluttering, fighting to stay open.

Steve smiles warmly at the nickname, “Alright, well I’ll let you get some rest, I’m just down the hall if you need anything”

You watch Steve get up and walk towards the door, anxiety filling your head watching him leave. You didn’t want him to go. You remember how nice his arms felt around you not an hour ago, and how calm your brain is when he’s around.

“Steve?” you say barely audible.

“Yeah?” he says his eyes showing a hint of concern and anticipation.

“Stay with me?” you beg pathetically. You know its not right, you know you shouldn’t want him, or crave him. What about Eddie, what about fucking Eddie. But your heart ached with the thought of sleeping so close but so far from him, the need for him ached deep inside your bones.

Silence fills the room, the two of you looking at each other, knowing the answer to your question could change everything. You open your mouth saying you’ve changed your mind, feeling stupid again for the hundredth time tonight.

But as you’re about to say something, Steve closes the door and sits next to you on the bed. Steve's eyes are tired, you look at the clock next to you and it’s nearly 5 am, Steve had the patience of a god. You let out the breath you were holding, the bubble of anxiety dissipating from your chest.

“Go on, get comfy, I know you’re exhausted” Steve orders, motioning towards the covers. You wrap yourself up under the very expensive looking blankets, Steve tugging the blankets up higher making sure you were comfy before settling in behind you. He envelops you with his arms, pulling you closer, your back now flush with his chest and your head resting comfortable under his. Steve is so warm, like the sun, filling your body with its heat, your eyes eyes getting heavy. He rubs soothing circles into your bare skin that’s open to him.

“’s this okay?” he breathes quietly into your ear.

“Yeah.. perfect,” you whisper, alright on the verge of sleep.

Dreamland finds you not long after, the dull ache in your chest soothed by the warmth of Steve’s body next to you in bed.

Tag List!: If you wanna be added to the tag list just lemme know! Must be 18+!

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[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter two: covid & carbonara

summary: in a time of isolation, you and carmy find unexpected connection in unexpected places: each other. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19/the pandemic, eventual smut.

word count: 4k

listen to: hot sugar - glass animals | hard to live in the city - albert hammond jr. | alone together - del water gap | foreign girls - bleachers

read: chapter one

March 2020: 

“Carmy, can you hear me now?” you ask, listening carefully for his response. 

“Yeah hold on. Wifi’s shit in this room,” he mumbles. You hear a rustle of sounds and the picture on your phone goes blurry for a second. This is just something you’ve come to accept is a part of your life now as you wait. 

Suddenly, the picture is clear again and it looks like Carmy’s in his living room now. He wears a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants as he tries to get comfy on the shitty sofa in his Flatiron apartment. 

“Ok there we go. I gotta-, yeah, I can hear you now,” he says, finally settling in. 

“How are you?” you ask as you grow more sure that you’re going to be able to talk now. “It’s good to see your face.”

“Yeah, no uh. It’s good to see you too,” he replies. “Shit’s so weird right now, huh?”

“Totally,” you agree. “So… what’ve you been up to? I mean… how are you spending your time?”

He sighs, shaking his head, as if to say that he barely knows how to answer that question. He thinks it over before answering with:

“I don’t know. Workin’ on some recipes. Tryin’ not to lose my fuckin’ head. You?”

“Same,” you commiserate. “Though… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been enjoying some of the down time, you know?”

He couldn’t agree less. 

Carmy tells you about the recipes he’s working on. You share with him the plot of the show you’re binge watching right now. He tells you he hasn’t really been in touch with family much and you let him know that you’ve been running errands for your parents where you can. It’s a fairly normal conversation for a very uncertain and strange time, but it brings you comfort – talking to Carmy. 

You talk about the state of the restaurant industry. The state of the world. The two of you wonder when the restaurant might open back up – if they’ll consider doing to-go’s. He’s not sure and neither are you.

It’s almost two hours later when you realize your phone is dying, and that somehow, time has flown as the two of you have been talking. 

“Shit, uh. My phone’s dying. I may have to go,” you say remorsefully. 

“Oh yeah! No problem,” Carmy replies, almost apologetically. “And I uh, if I get in touch with the people at World Central Kitchen, I’ll let you know. I’m sure they can always use more chefs and volunteers.”

“No, that’d be great. Uh… before I go,” you start, knowing that you want to tell him this. “I just wanted to say… I’m glad we did this.”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees, and you can tell he means it. 

“Maybe… we do it again? Keep each other company… you know. Virtually?” you propose, hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Carmy half smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And as the pandemic drags on, you find yourself FaceTiming with Carmy more and more. Once a week turns into once a week and a consistent exchange of texts. He shares with you the recipes he’s working on. You bounce ideas around with him on dishes he feels stuck on. You send him silly memes and TikToks, even though he refuses to get an account himself. Once a week turns into twice a week, and then phone calls, and soon enough, you don’t go a day without talking to Carmy in some capacity. 

You’re not sure how you’ve done it but you think that maybe you and Carmy just might be friends. 

May 2020: 

“Thanks so much for all the help guys. It means a lot. Especially having two chefs of your caliber,” the volunteer coordinator says, addressing both you and Carmy. 

“Listen, we’re just happy to be a part of something right now. With so much going on… it’s hard to know where to begin helping,” you reply with gratitude. You’re genuinely thankful that you’ve been able to be a part of World Central Kitchen’s COVID relief efforts, and you know Carmy feels the same. 

“We’ll see you guys next Friday?” the volunteer coordinator asks. 

“Heard,” Carmy answers, thanking the coordinator one more time before the two of you leave the building. 

Around the corner, there’s a bench that the two of you find. It’s an easy choice to sit down – neither of you are quite ready to go home yet. You sit on opposite sides before removing your masks as Carmy pulls out a pack of marlboros. 

“You want one?” he asks you, holding out the pack.

“Yeah,” you agree, taking one from him at a distance. You watch him light up, before handing you the lighter he keeps in his jean jacket pocket.

It’s nice to take a moment to pause. Between the chaos of being in a kitchen again to the chaos of the world around you, it feels good to smoke a fucking cigarette on a street corner with the man that’s so unexpectedly become your friend. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the sounds of the city, each others’ company, and your fuckin’ cancer sticks. 

You break the silence between the two of you, letting out the smallest chuckle.

“What?” Carmy asks you, your laugh garnering his attention. 

“It’s just… it’s almost funny,” you say, continuing your giggle. 

“What?” he asks you again, a look of amusement on his face. He can’t imagine what must be so funny. 

“Just… seeing you here… Mr. Fine Dining…makin’ sandwiches,” you tease playfully. “Thought you were too fancy-pants for that.”

“Fuck off,” he rolls his eyes playfully, sucking on his cigarette as he inhales. You laugh again as he shakes his head, shooting you another look. 

He takes his time, exhaling the smoke out in the opposite direction, before addressing your playful remarks. 

“Nah. It uh-, actually reminds me of my family’s place a little. Back home,” he shares with you. 

It catches you off guard. Carmy rarely ever talks about home, let alone his family. 

“Yeah?” you ask curiously, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod, before placing the cigarette back in between his lips. 

To your disappointment, you realize that’s all he’s planning to share. You resign yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette as the two of you smoke to the sounds of the city. After a long shift at the volunteer kitchen, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you. It’s been a few months since you’ve had to stand for that long, and as exhilarating as it’s been, you can feel the fatigue in your back and your feet already. 

“So… I was thinkin’ about something,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

You angle your body towards him before asking, “What’s that?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.” 

He’s suddenly shy, and your eyes flicker over his cheeks that have turned a darker shade of red than they were before. 

“Carmy, what is it?” you ask, leaning towards him, now intrigued.

He avoids your gaze before he replies, “Nah. Nevermind. It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not! What is it?” you continue to press him.

You’re not going to let this go. 

“I shouldn't've said anything.” 

He sighs, taking one more drag of his cigarette before leaning forward and tossing it on the ground. His left foot hovers over the cigarette butt as he stamps it out, his forearms resting on his legs as he finally turns to you again. 

“I don’t know how you feel about it, and you can totally say no because like… shit’s still fucked, you know but-,” he starts, shyly. Was Carmy about to ask you out?

 He pauses, his eyes scanning the pavement beneath his feet before saying, “It’s just-, I’m not like, seeing anyone else in person. Except you.”

“Yeah, no me either,” you agree. 

Where was this going?

“Would you maybe wanna-?” he asks, before trailing off, his piercing blue eyes so intense it feels like he’s looking right through you. He nods towards the kitchen before continuing with, “... see each other in person. Like outside of here. As long as we’re being safe you know?” 

You nod, quick to put the poor man at ease, and only a little intrigued as to why it was so difficult for him to ask you that. 

“Yeah no. I’m not seeing anyone else in person either. And at this point if we had COVID, we’d probably already have exposed each other, right?” you reply. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

“Yeah, I’d be down. To… you know. Maybe move some of our FaceTimes… in person, if that’s what you mean,” you agree, a smile on your face. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but you weren’t expecting for Carmy to ask you to become his quarantine buddy – even if you’d already kind of been doing it anyways. 

“Cool,” he says, taking a breath. 

You can tell that it was a big deal for him – to ask you that – even if he doesn’t want to show it. 

“Can I walk you home?” he asks. 

You smile in return, “Yeah. And if you’re feeling wild… we can… pick something up on the way there. You can come up and hang.”

“No, yeah. That uh-, that sounds great,” he replies, something softer in his eyes this time. “If you don’t mind. I mean-, if you want the company-.”

“Oh shut up, Berzatto,” you roll your eyes at him. You shoot him a look, even though you’re kind of loving this softer side of him. 

“I wouldn’t have offered, if I didn’t.”

July 2020: 

Carmen Berzatto becomes an unexpected yet pleasantly surprising part of your support system, and your COVID-pod. It’s hard to believe that less than a year ago, you thought the man absolutely hated you. He’s still the hot and cold, emotionally turbulent man you met last October, and he’s also become your friend. You’ve learned that he can be soft, that he’s terribly uncomfortable in any and all social situations, and that he’s the most single-minded, driven, obsessed motherfucker you’ve ever met. 

By now, the restaurant has pivoted and reopened for to-gos only. It’s nothing like the fine dining establishment it was before. You’re only open Thursday to Sunday and it’s a much more family style, to-go kit sort of operation these days: to-go cocktail kits, to-go curated menus, to-go assemble your own dishes at home. 

It’s strange. And it’s a strange time for all of you. 

You’re finished with your shift today, ready to head home and spend the next three days off. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get three days off in a row once all of this is over, so you’ve decided that you’re just going to embrace the slower lifestyle right now. You’ve been more creative in this chapter of your life than you can remember. 

“So you layin’ it down for Carmy or what?” a voice asks, jolting you from your thoughts. 

“Excuse me?” you snap, turning your head to a very smug looking Nate Walker, stripping off his face mask.

“What the fuck, man?” Tim exclaims, as he’s changing back into his street shoes. “Not okay to say.”

“What?” Nate defends himself. “I’m just wondering who I have to thank. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen the boss man.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Really nice, Nate.” 

You shake your head, before slinging your backpack over your right arm, exchanging a look with Tim. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Carmy and I are just friends,” you correct. “Ever think that some time off has been good for all of us and that’s why Carmy’s been chill?”

“‘S not like we’re working at the same capacity we used to be. I think it’s been good for him,” Tim chimes in, trying to offer you a little backup.

“Sure,” Nate replies, unconvinced. 

“What’s it to you anyways, Walker?” Tim asks, putting the spotlight on his coworker. 

“Nothin’,” Nate replies, defensively. “Just noticed you guys spendin’ a lot of time together lately. Besides, the guy could use a good lay.”

“You’re a child,” you snap with an eye roll. You slide your left arm into the other strap of your backpack, ready to leave. “Now if we’re done with the girl talk, I’m going home.”

As you begin to walk away, you can hear Nate defending himself as Tim points out how inappropriate it was for him to say that to you. You’re grateful for people like Tim, because you’re not sure that Nate would listen to anyone else lower in the French brigade system – let alone a woman. 

“We still on for tomorrow?” Carmy asks you, as you're on your way out. He’s still in his chef whites because, as the both of you know, he’s going to be the last person to leave. A smile spreads across your face as soon as you see him. 

That’s right. You’re spending your day off tomorrow with him. 

“Yeah,” you smile with a nod. 

“Mine or yours?” he asks. 

You shoot him a look – a ‘I know you haven’t cleaned up your place’ kind of look. 

“Mine,” you reply. 

“Sweet. There’s a cool market nearby I wanted to check out. I’ll pick somethin’ up on the way,” he says back. 

“Heard.”

You wait a beat before adding, “Try not to work too hard, chef.”

He likes that you’re looking out for him. 

He smiles, “Heard.”

*

As much as you’ve tried not to let Nate Walker get to you, you can’t stop thinking about what he said the day before. Did people think you and Carmy were sleeping together? Did the whole staff think you were trying to sleep your way to the top? Your mind races, and you notice the anxious feelings you have have settled deep in your chest. Carmy moves around your kitchen, intentionally, and while you’d like to enjoy how happy he looks when he cooks for fun, you can’t seem to shut off your brain. 

“You sure I can’t help? I went to culinary school too, yknow?” you ask, trying to put on your best lighthearted tone. 

“Nah,” he dismisses, pulling together a sauce in one of the glass bowls you keep in your kitchen for prep. 

As Carmy steals a glance your way, he’s surprised to find that whatever weight it seems you were carrying when he first walked in, hasn’t gone away. He returns his focus to the stovetop, shaking the stainless clad frying pan that holds his precisely-cut lardons. 

“What’s up?” he asks you, keeping his back to you. 

“Uh… nothing,” you reply, trying your best to shake it off. 

He knows you’re lying, and he turns to look at you again, more intently this time. Your lips are pressed together in a thin line and there’s a new tension knitted between your brows that’s not normally there. As much as you’re trying not to let it get to you, your face betrays you and he knows that something’s been bothering you all day. He shoots you an unconvinced look and you sigh in defeat. 

Since when had Carmy learned what that look meant. 

“Just-, you’re gonna think it’s dumb,” you start, almost embarrassed that you have to bring this up to him. 

“What’s up?” he asks, patiently. 

You shrug, “Just something that Nate said yesterday’s been… bothering me, I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dry laugh as he asks you, “Well Nate’s a dick. What’d he say?”

“I-, I don’t know if I should tell you,” you admit hesitantly. 

“Why?” he asks, a pang of nerves hitting him right in the gut. 

You wait a beat, trying to figure out how best to convey what Nate said without freaking Carmy out. 

“He uh… he kind of… suggested that everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?” you say cautiously, your voice going up at the end of the sentence, almost as if it were a question. 

“Oh,” is all Carmy manages to get out. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

“Well, we’re not,” Carmy replies, simply. 

Right. 

“Right,” you agree. 

You’re surprised by the feeling of disappointment that wells in your chest in response to Carmy’s reply. This had been eating away at you and for him to shut it down so quickly – like it was that simple – doesn’t quite make sense to you. 

Maybe it’s because men never bear the burden of an inappropriate workplace relationship, not that you’re having one with Carmy, but you know it’d be a bigger cost to you than it’d ever be for him.

“I just…” you start, beginning to understand why it’s bothering you so much. “Do you think… like is it a problem that we’re hanging out? I mean, you are kind of my boss and… I don’t know. I guess we never really talked about the ethical implications of… you know. Us. Being friends. And also working together.”

Friends. 

Right. 

Maybe because it’s because he’s never really had friends, let alone a girlfriend, that catches Carmy off guard.

You’re just friends, motherfucker, Carmy thinks to himself. 

It’s like he’d almost forgotten. 

Perhaps it’s the isolation – the way of the world right now – but he’s never thought about what you were to him. Ever since the two of you had decided to start spending time together, it had been you and him against a very scary and uncertain world. Carmy’s surprised to find that, hearing it said aloud, friends, leaves him with a feeling of dissatisfaction – like the word friend didn’t quite describe the way he felt about you. 

But he’s terrified to think about what that could mean. That anything else would probably scare you away – push you out of his life – and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let that happen right now. 

Because he likes this too much. 

Because he likes who he is when he’s with you. 

Because you’re all he has. 

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind for another time, because right now, you’re sitting right in front of him, and he’s got a problem to solve for you. 

“As long as we’re professional in the kitchen… I don’t see why it should be a problem,” he says. 

You’re not sure how it seems so simple for him, because it doesn’t feel this simple for you. 

“Yeah, no. I-, I agree,” you lie. 

Carmy returns to what he’s doing, and you accept that that’s probably the full conversation that you’re going to have with him. At least right now. You watch as he continues to cook, pulling together the sauce as he tosses the pasta and cheese in your frying pan. You open up your phone, scrolling through a few social media posts to try your best to get your mind off of your worries as Carmy finishes up in your kitchen. 

It’s not long before he’s returned to your small dining table. You set your phone down, watching as he approaches you. 

“I remember you mentioning that it’s hard to find a good carbonara so uh… thought I’d make you one,” he says confidently. Carmy hands you bowl containing a perfectly twirled nest of spaghetti, along with a fork he’d gotten from your kitchen. 

“How do I know it’s gonna be up to my standards?” you challenge him playfully. 

He shoots you a ‘don’t play with me’ kind of look and you giggle in response. You exchange glances with Carmy before messing up the perfectly plated nest by digging your fork into it. 

“Make sure you get a little bit of everything,” he reminds you. He watches as you twirl the spaghetti around your fork, making sure to scoop up a bit of crispy guanciale. You lift the fork to your mouth before taking a bite, your eyes closing as the salty, cheesy, bite hits your tongue. 

It’s perfect.  

“Holy fuck,” you practically moan in response to your first bite. You open your eyes and he smiles back at you, proud of the response he’s earned from you. Your face twists into a look that falls somewhere between ‘this is so good I’m angry and hello, I’ve reached nirvana.’ 

“This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude,” you say, as you continuing processing the most perfect carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. 

“No offense taken,” he says. 

You shake your head at him, “Best carbonara ever.”

September 2020: 

“So we go upstate, and we’re searching for outdoor activities we can do, you know, safely, at a distance, with masks on. And we end up at this goat farm,” Maya says, describing her and her fiance’s last few months spent in upstate New York. 

“...Was the goat named Milo?” Carmy asks, a humorous tone to his question. 

“Carmy!” you exclaim with a laugh, shooting him a look. 

“What?” he asks back. 

Both Liz, Maya, and her fiance Patrick send you questioning looks. 

“I-, it’s an inside joke,” you explain, shaking your head once again in response to Carmy’s very silly interjection. 

“Anyways, it’s so nice to be back in the city. Seriously, Liz, thanks for organizing this,” Maya continues. 

“Oh, I’m kind of getting really into this whole cute picnic thing actually,” she replies, in reference to the picnic she’s organized for the five of you. “Plus, the to-go picnic kit has been killing at the restaurant. Thanks for letting me run with that, chef.”

“No, yeah. You’re killin’ it. It was a great idea,” Carmy compliments. 

The five of you spend time in the park, catching up and enjoying time spent in person for the first time in a long time. You, Liz, and Carmy have been back at work, pushing through, what will hopefully be, the last month or so in the to-go only business at the restaurant. As the sun begins to come down, you all agree that it’s time to pack it up and go home. You’ve begun to collect all of the trash in a brown paper bag as Carmy offers to take it. 

“You sure?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

As he takes a walk, in search of the nearest trash can, your friends are immediately on you about whatever the hell it is that you and Carmy are doing. 

“So what I’m hearing is… you talk every day, you have inside jokes together, and you’re basically quarantining together. How are you trying to tell us that this man is not your boyfriend?!” Maya exclaims. Her partner shrugs in agreement. 

“I know that what Nate said was hella inappropriate, but he’s not wrong… that this is the most I’ve seen him relaxed in… maybe since we met him,” Liz adds in as your friends make their case. 

“He seems into you,” Patrick offers. 

“I-,” you start, knowing you don’t have much time before Carmy returns. “I don’t know. All I know is… I like what we have. And right now, we’re friends so.”

“God, you’re so good at it,” Maya sighs. 

“What?” you ask, looking from her to Liz as they exchange glances. 

The both turn to you, before saying in unison, “Compartmentalizing!” 

Patrick holds his hands up as he says, “I’m gonna stay out of this one.”

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks, rejoining you and your friends. 

You can practically feel Liz and Maya staring at you. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Carmy. 

You say your goodbyes before going your separate ways, and Maya swears when Carmy isn’t listening that you’re not done talking about this. It’s just been you and Carmy for so long that you hadn’t thought about what it might look like to other people. Now that things were slowly reopening… you were beginning to get more questions, and maybe, you were beginning to have more questions too. 

But the last time you’d tried to bring up any conversation about your relationship with Carmy, he’d shut it down and distracted you with the best carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. Not that you were complaining, definitely not, but you were hesitant to bring it up any time soon.  As Carmy looks at you, there’s something about the way you look against the backdrop of the city, the setting sun, and the sparkling lights, that catches him off guard. He’s not ready to part ways with you yet.

“Can I walk you home?” Carmy offers, hopefully. 

“Sure,” you nod.

read chapter three

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

[wawamouse]

Oz Rewatch 3: S5E04: Next Stop Valhalla

Storylines

Jaime tries to kill Guerra and is killed instead; Miguel feels guilty; Alicia Hinden comes to Oz with the dog training program; Augustus, Penders, and Miguel are selected

Miss Sally’s Schoolyard to become Sallycise; Brass confirms to Rebadow he bought the lottery ticket; Martinez hits Brass with a shit cocktail; Gloria tries to get Martinez put in the hospital and then beats him up when he keeps touching her face

Beecher and Schillinger fight during an interaction session; Schillinger antagonises Schibetta;

Peter Marie visits Keller; McClain visits Keller

Winthrop and Guenzel arrive at Oz; Guenzel is taken under Beecher’s wing while Winthrop becomes a prag for the Aryans in Unit B

Frank Urbano arrives at Oz; Beecher asks Pancamo for the Italians help in protecting Guenzel; the Aryans and Italians get into a fight

Gloria tells Ryan he has to tell his mother about his crimes; Ryan breakdances instead; Shupe tells O’Reily that Li going to rape his mom; Ryan and Cyril kill Li

Augustus continues to grieve his mother and ends up breaking his sobriety

Omar annoys Emerald City and Said with his singing, McManus gives him a supply closet to practice in; Redding demands Omar use it to sell drugs; Lalar and Arif complain to Said that he’s neglecting his role as leader; Robson tortures and kills Lalar

Sister: That’s why they gotta stop announcing everything they do in this show, like...

Sister: I feel like [Norma’s] just dead at this point.

Sister: I feel like they’re leading up to him being like a mass shooter or something. Me: You think he’s gonna snap? Sister: He seems like the type...

Sister: …I think being free would making him happy. I mean, [Toby] had that whole vision about being free that did not include [Chris], so I think he’ll be fine.

Sister: You can just tell them anything and they’ll let you through…

Sister: What’s wrong with this guy? What’s he in for? Me: Hate crimes… Murder, officially, I think. Sister: Hate crime? What’s he sniffing people for? Me: He's just a perv...

Sister: …That’s so gross… In my sickened state*, I can’t even summon a bleugh. Me: [Retching noise] Sister: Thanks. (*We got some booster shots yesterday and Sister always gets sick afterward lol)

Sister: When are they going to address that guy whose wife also died? Me: Never. Sister: So why did they introduce her?! To spout off some facts and get shushed by the priest?? Me: Maybe there was originally supposed to be more of a story to it and it go cut. Sister: No, they just wanted to do their little after school special moment and then not deal with it. You know, if any of the Muslims should be having the issues in these episodes, it should be the other guy (Arif), not Mr. Said... Me: They could have issues together. Sister: Yeah. Kill the Nazi helper dude. The one who's egging everything on. Schillinger doesn't even really do stuff on his own anymore. Before, he didn't want to fight and wanted to become a Jesus freak and it was always that guy whispering in his ear. And now look.

Sister: How we know he’s not gonna build a bomb in there? … Oh, I guess they took away all the cleaning supplies…

Stray Thoughts

Sister says Jia Kenmin and Li Chen’s plan to provoke Ryan so they could kill him in self defense was really not thought-out

Sister is convinced that someone is going to die for one of the dogs

Sister believes that killing Robson would get rid of most of the Aryans’ bite since she views him as being the worst out of all the Aryans

Final thoughts

The scene where Robson and what’s his face torture Lalar is the toughest scene to watch in the entire show, imo. And it pisses me off (like, I’m actually getting mad thinking about it right now, lol) that Robson gets more expansion in terms of character as the show progresses, too, because whooooooooo gives a shit about a Nazi?! They still haven’t followed up on Arif’s wife LMAO. Also Urbano gets introduced this episode and they don’t end up doing shit with him, really, either. But let’s learn about this asshole!!

Sister: I feel like they’ve run out of storylines with the Muslims and are just repeating past ones. Wasn’t it [Arif] who was the one complaining about Said’s leadership the last time? And then he couldn’t handle it which caused the whole thing… and now he’s doing it again? Me: I think they just don’t like when Said helps other people. They complained when Said was spending time on Beecher, too… Sister: Yeah, [Arif] is so needy… He’s like “you’re spending too much time with your roommate who you have to stay in a cell with” and also every time he is around, [Said] just wants [Omar] to be quiet anyway…

[checkingoutforheroes]

B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL

Part 4.

Avengers x fem!reader

Words: 1333

Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol. Will a young, damaged and broke girl agree to this initiative and help a team to save this planet earth?

Part 3

Main Masterlist

“There, that’s the truck from the lab. Right above you, Cap. By the bridge, it’s them. Got three with the cradle. I can take out the driver.” Clint was ready to shoot the truck but Steve disagree. “Negative. The truck crash, the gem could level the city. We need to draw out Ultron.” He jumps on the truck to get its attention.

Well, he did get its attention and it pissed. “No, no, no. Leave me alone!” Ultron shoot the truck door almost hit Steve. “Well, he is really unhappy! I’m trying to keep it that way!” Steve shouted while hanging on the broken door.

“You’re not a match for him, Cap.” Clint stated. “Thanks Barton.” Steve muttered.

Natasha sees the situation from their jet. “He needs help.” “I guess you wanna unpack your birthday present.” Clint told her to go behind the jet and wait for his queue. She pressed the button for the metal box and saw an electric Harley Davidson and mutter to herself. “That’s a birthday present.” She hops on the bike and waiting for Clint’s to open the bay. “We got a window. In 3,2, give him hell.”

The fights between them and the robots can take too much time and damaged. Natasha make other plans to their original plan of taking the cradle safely because it’s not working out so safe. “This isn’t going nowhere. Clint, can you draw the guards out?”

Clint shooting at Ulron in front of Steve trying to lure the minions out. “Let’s find out.” Three of the guard out and the truck is empty.

“Cap, keep him occupied. I’m going in!” Natasha drop her bike and jump into the truck.

Steve let out an exhausting breath. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Meanwhile at the tower, you walk on Maria and Fury’s discussion. “How’s everything? Did they get him?” Maria and Fury acknowledge your present and she pull a chair for you. “You should be on bed.” You just sat slowly on it. “Nah, I’ve been worse. This is nothing.”

Maria rolling her eyes at you. “You’ve been dead for 6 minutes until Tony change your device. What are worse than that?” You don’t have answer for that and Fury coming at you too. “And when are you planning on telling us? Next Christmas?” “I don’t even ask for it and I like to keep it shut. It’s not something to be proud of.” He huffs, “Once this is over, you’re going to see a doctor.” “Why everybody keeps telling me to find a doctor? I’ve been fine all this time. I’m here not to be taking care of. I’m here because the world is at stake and I’m here to help. Doing something, at least.”

“Proof that. Until then, you’re off the mission. Agent Hill, follow me to pick up our old stuff back.” Fury order. “Can I tag along?” Maria turns to you. “We’ll be back. Why don’t you help us monitoring them for us? Use this for contact and maybe help Stark and Banner. But please, for the love of God, don’t ever piss him off.” She walks out of the room, following Fury.

Bruce notice you’re walking towards them. “How’s your feeling?” “Just another day at the office. Still getting the hang of it.”

Tony and Bruce watched and heard some of your conversation earlier. “Gotta admit. I adore your spirit.” Tony expressed. “I never thank you, to both of you yet. Thank you, for saving my life.” Bruce smiling softly and nod. “You’re welcome.”

“Are you kidding? We’re a team. We’re the Avengers. Once you step a foot in this building, you’re the Avengers. We help each other. Well, maybe some of us being a pain in ass but yeah, you’re one of us now. Welcome to the club kid.” Tony reasoned it for you and your eyes lit up on them. “Really? You mean that? Am I, an Avengers?” Tony looking at Bruce while he continues working on his computer. “Bruce. Back me up here.” “I don’t see why not. You’re young and we’re all above 30. We can use a fresh blood.” “Legacy. Thanks Shrek.” Tony responded and you let out a chuckle “I guess you’re the one being the pain in ass.” “Everyone asses” Bruce nod down and we’ll continue our work.

While trying to crack the code for that cradle, Natasha feels the truck lifting. “The package just air borne. I have a clean shot.” Clint tell them on the comm. “Negative. I am still in the truck.” she needs to think fast.

“What the hell did you...” Natasha cut his sentences while cutting the rope that tied to the cradle. “Just be ready. I’m sending the package to you.”

Clint ready on his position. “How do you want me to take it?”

“Uhhh… You might wish you didn’t ask that.”

Wanda fly in the train to help Steve and front the Ultron. “Please. You don’t have to do that.” Somehow, Ultron is kinda sound scared and he fly out the train. “Surveillance in our path. Can you stop this train?” Steve ordered and both of them do their best to stop the train and people around it.

Once the cradle touches the Quinn jet floor, Ultron manage to snatch Natasha’s leg and take her with him. “Nat!” Clint saw the incident but he can’t do anything to help her while piloting the jet. “Cap, did you see Nat?”

“If you have the cradle, take it to Stark!” Steve ordered.

“Do you have eyes on Nat?!” Asking again for confirmation.

“Go!” Steve shout.

Wanda telling Steve about what Ultron’s plan. “I read him. Ultron can’t tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it. We have to move fast.”

He disappointed and fly that jet back to the tower and leave his friend behind. “Damn it!” He contact the tower when he’s close for them to prepare and inform about their current situation. “Quinn jet to tower. Quinn jet to tower.” You hear his voice and press a button to accept his call. “Quinn jet, this is Y/N speaking from the tower. You’re affirm to report.” Clint told you that he’s 15 minutes away to arrive and Natasha is missing in action. “Oh God.” You pull down the headset and running to find Tony and Bruce. “They’ve got Nat. She’s m.i.a.” Bruce takes his glasses off. “You have her tracker right?” Tony rush to his computer “I’ll find her.”

You and Banner helps Clint unload the cradle and bring it into the lab and Tony walks in. Disappointment shows on his face and Bruce ask before I do. “Did you find her?” He just walks straight toward the cradle. “Haven’t heard but I’m sure she’s alive or Ultron would rub us in the face.” Seriously? Did he truly find her at all? You want to ask him that but Clint change the topic. “This seal tight.” He stands next to you.

Tony turn around to look at both of you and Clint, ignoring Bruce. “Is there any chance she might leave a massage outside the internet? Old school spy stuff perhaps.”

“You worry about the cradle.”

“We’ll find her.” Both you and Clint walks out that lab.

Clint handle the modern tech frequency while you handle the old one. “You okay with that? Wanna switch up?” You tuning on the frequency “I’m good. I can’t be near that high tech frequency anyway. That’s why I still have my Walkman and not Bluetooth headset. You know, because my…” You pointing at your left chest and he nodding. “Right. I hope she led us somewhere.” You smile at him. “She’s Natasha. She’ll make plan.”

It is true. Natasha did figure something out. While you tuning the frequency, you hear a static note. Tuning it again to have a clear shot. Natasha sending you her location by Morse code. You tell Clint to decode it on the screen. “You’re right. She did have plan.”

[player1064]

Prompt from this post: https://www.tumblr.com/xtsukinoax/673521724855402496/it-cant-be-better?source=share

DO WHAT YOU WILL if you choose <3

SO obsessed with this tweet I can't stop thinking about it like why did he say that. why did he say that. SCREAMS.

thanks for the prompt!! here's 933 words of just. fluff.

---

“I honestly don’t understand how yous’ve made it this far in life, Gary, look at the state of you.”

Gary blinks a few times, unsteady on his feet, as he takes a second to process what Jamie’s saying.

“I’m fine, Carra. ‘s been a busy couple’a weeks, is all. It’ll slow down again soon.”

“You’ve been havin’ a busy couple of weeks for the last ten year! How many times’ve you gotta be told to slow down before you actually listen?”

Another pause.

“Jamie. I’m fine. Look, I jus’ need – I just need t’go home, have some dinner, get me eight hours. I’ll see you in the mornin’, yeah?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I’m not lettin’ you get behind the wheel when you’re like this.”

“So, what, yer gonna drive me home? Bit of a detour, that.”

It’d be a lot of a detour, considering they’ve just finished covering a match at Anfield. Jamie’s half an hour away from comfy clothes and a pizza delivery, it’d be a shame to have to drive all the way to and from Manchester and delay it.

Only one thing for it, then.

“You’re comin’ home with me.”

After the second’s delay for Gary to process again, he scoffs. “Am I fuck.”

Somewhere, buried very far in the back of Jamie’s mind, a little voice is reminding him that Gary is a multi-millionaire and could afford the cab fare home. He ignores it and steers Gary towards his car instead.

The drive to Jamie’s house is done in near silence, the radio volume turned low because Jamie knows when he’s this tired any extra noise’ll just give Gary a headache. When they get in, he leaves the overhead lights off and turns a lamp on instead, then leaves Gary on the sofa while he wanders off to order the pizzas and to get changed.

He’s pulling on his tracksuit when he realises Gary’s still stuck in his work clothes, which just doesn’t make any sense if Jamie’s insisting he stay the night, so he digs around for some things that might fit him and carries them back downstairs, stopping to grab the duvet off his bed as he goes.

“Pizza’ll be here in ten,” he says as he enters the living room. He drops the change of clothes onto Gary’s lap. “Here, there’s a bathroom down the hall you can get dressed in.”

Gary blinks, looks at the clothes in confusion, then looks at the duvet that Jamie’s unceremoniously dropped onto the empty side of the couch.

“Y’re bein’ weird, James,” he says, but gets up and wanders off down the hall without complaint.

When he comes back, Jamie pats the sofa cushion beside him and asks “what channel d’you want TV on?”

“Ugh. Anything but football.”

Jamie scrolls through the channel guide for all of ten seconds before deciding that a) it’s only background noise, so he doesn’t actually care what they watch, and b) he’s got the perfect opportunity to be very, very annoying.

“Sex and the City it is, then. What’s it say… season four, episode twelve. You seen this one?”

Jamie’s never seen an episode of the show in his life, and, judging by the glare Gary shoots him, he hasn’t either. Well. First time for everything!

The pizza arrives, and they eat in front of the TV, Jamie ‘hmm’ing and ‘ahh’ing at all of Gary’s annoyed comments about the show.

“Who’s this now?” (“I don’t know, Gaz, it’s my first time watchin’ it too.”)

“D’you ever find American accents quite tricky to understand?” (“I think you’re probably just tired. You’re understandin’ me just fine.”) (“Been stuck tryn’ta understand your Scouse mutterin’ for last ten year, would hope I’ve got the hang of it by now.”)

“Oh! Y’didn’t tell me there’d be sex in this and all!” (“It’s literally called Sex and the City you twat.”)

The duvet remains draped menacingly over the back of the couch until Jamie comes back from putting the empty pizza boxes in the kitchen, at which point he sits back down, ever so slightly closer to Gary this time (though not close enough to spook him), and pulls it onto his lap.

Gary looks at him, spooked.

Christ, but he’s hard work sometimes. Jamie figures the best thing to do is pretend like this is perfectly normal, just two grown men sharing a duvet, so he spreads it out to cover both of them.

Gary still looks spooked, sitting there rigidly upright with wide eyes fixed unblinkingly on the TV. Jamie shuffles closer to him. Throws an arm over the back of the couch, no part of him making contact with Gary but still very much… there.

Slowly, slowly, Gary leans back.

By the next ad break, he’s asleep, his head lolled forwards, chin resting on his chest. Jamie pulls the duvet up higher around him and turns the TV volume down.

By the ad break after that, Gary’s slumped further into the couch, and if Jamie shifts just an inch or so – their sides would be pressed together. Gary doesn’t stir. Jamie lets his arm drop to his shoulders. Still nothing.

Gary’s warm, his weight solid at Jamie’s side. Jamie shuts his eyes, just for a second.

When he opens them again, it’s still dark out but the TV’s gone into standby and his watch tells him it’s still too early an hour to really be called morning.

There’s also a Manc drooling into his chest, one arm draped across his waist.

There are worse places to be, Jamie thinks, and lets himself drift back to sleep.

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 99 Zeppe-Let's Get Out of Here

Logico bbg what mindspace were you in when you made these titles

Murdle Advent Day 20

A-List Abalone has come to interrupt your peace with a loud song!

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

The pile of panicked citizens boards the zeppelin which leaves immediately. Everyone takes a moment to breathe. Logico looks out the window and watches the city burn, devastated at what their expedition came to. But not everything has a happy end.

Irratino checks into a private back room, where Uncle Midnight, Baron Maroon, Celadon, Raspberry, and Cloud are in a deep sleep. Finally, they’re recognizable - still very wounded, but slowly healing. The goat lord sits down and prays for them to get well soon. But one of the beds is empty-

LOGICO: IRRATINO, there’s a MURDER again and it’s the same person from last time. IRRATINO: What? LOGICO: I don’t know, just get over here… I’m so tired…

Irratino comes to Logico and runs into a terrible-looking Saffron.

SAFFRON: HIYEEEE! IRRATINO: [goat scream] SAFFRON: Oh my god, it feels like I haven’t seen you two in FOREVER, I don’t know WHAT happened back there ahahaha… How’ve you BEEN?? LOGICO: Oh good god Saffron, go back and get some rest.

Saff is still covered in deep cuts and disgusting lumps, and her eyes are pink.

SAFFRON: Oh pshh, don’t worry about it! Doctor orders are like those best-by dates, you don’t HAVE to follow ‘em they just WANT you to follow ‘em! HUG! LOGICO: No no no, do NOT touch me. Go to bed now!

Saffron groans and plops down on the seat next to Captain Slate, who was trying to sleep.

SLATE: Excuse me… SAFFRON: HIII Slatey!!  SLATE: Thank god I have my suit… SAFFRON: ReLAAAX, it’s not contagious! I think. Unless it gets in your bloodstream maybe? I dunno. 

She tries to squish Slate’s face but can’t through her helmet. Slate blinks in unamusement.

SAFFRON: Aghh, you’re just so CUTE I’m gonna throw up!! Wait. I think I’m actually gonna throw up.

She runs to the bathroom at top speed and makes an awful noise.

Sergeant Gunmetal is flirting with the real pilot of the zeppelin, the adorable robot.

GUNMETAL: It is amazing to be with someone of my kind… were you real once too? Did they take your organs too?

The robot doesn’t respond, because it is programmed to fly the blimp and nothing else.

Comrade Champagne is also there, sawing logs, gold spilling out of his open suitcase.

IRRATINO: Well, it’s nice that no one’s taking it. LOGICO: J- SAFFRON: GOLD? WHERE!

She runs back over and starts pickpocketing. Champ wakes up.

CHAMPAGNE: Hey hey hey hey! Get out of there!

Saffron looks up at him with her diseased eyes, and he bleats and smacks her out of impulse. Irratino flips through a travel guide, gets bored, and tosses it away, and it hits Gunmetal in the head.

GUNMETAL: HEY!!!  IRRATINO: Sorry! Sorry! GUNMETAL: You little…

He approaches Irratino, but is so, so slow. Too slow to be threatening. Meanwhile, Logico finds the murderer to be Captain Slate.

SLATE: No. LOGICO: Yes, look at the evidence! SLATE: [growl] I need air. Humans clog the air. I got rid of the human. And I wanted to get Gross Saffron to stop flirting with me. SAFFRON: [snort] It’s not flirting! …Is it? :0

Logico sighs and flops on the floor. Things were reverting back to their usual state, maybe with Gunmetal as another usual suspect to add to the pile, but the stable chaotic energy has returned. Logico closes his eye. It’s time to put Drakonia behind them.

The end!

Gotta admit, it was nice to write a silly episode after all the action

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[lukedanger]

Owlcatober - Day 5 - Forgiveness (WotR)

Fifth day of @owlcatober

[Ao3 Link]

“I thought you’d be celebrating with Arueshalae.”

Elaina looked to the side, grimacing as she had to lower her right wing to see properly. Seelah, with two bottles in hand, one of which was already uncorked.

“Who’s to say we haven’t already?”

The other paladin chuckled, settling down on the ledge next to her. The army - both the celestial reinforcements they had brought to Iz and the mortal one they had managed to extract from the ruined city - was camped around a small plateau which was used as its center. The Sword of Valor flew proudly above, alas still not returned to Iomedae’s colors and crest even as it bathed the camp in heavenly light.

“So, that’s a second demon lord to your tally,” Seelah continued as she handed one of the bottles to her. 

Elaina gave the common ale a quick sniff, then took a drink. “You say it like I was the only one fighting them. The Holy Wardens contained Baphomet, and I seem to recall Deskari being brought low by a couched lance while I was pinned against a building.”

Seelah shrugged at first, loudly thanks to her plate harness, but smiled. “It’ll be a good story for the next fair, then. Might even be a good painting one day.”

They fell into relative silence, especially in contrast to the rest of the camp in various states of good spirit. Some of it were happy songs and reunions, others were in joyful tears as celestials walked among the crusaders again, and in strength rather than just the Hand’s select company or those summoned by clerics.

One angel was coming from the camp, clad in black robes with bronze trim, a halo like a north-south compass overhead as he (they?) glided over the ridge and landed several meters past them. Both paladins looked back and saw that they were striding towards the Sword of Valor. Or, perhaps, towards the former inquisitor kneeling beneath it.

“Balisse, right?” Seelah asked as she turned back.

Elaina nodded.

“Guess he needs a lot of forgiveness,” Seelah shook her head. “Speaking of that - are you really burying the hatchet with the Queen?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I remember how angry you were in the Abyss,” Seelah explained as she leaned forward. “Even with my own problems I could tell it hurt. You don’t have to actually forgive her, even if you gotta play politics.”

“I know,” she admitted, feeling her new wings flap in anticipation. “But what she said, back at the library? That was the last few pieces.”

“Come again?”

“You’re right, it did hurt. I had looked up to her since the abbey - we all enjoyed imagining ourselves a hero like her, Yaniel, or Zacharius. I had archived it away with all the other ‘what if’ dreams I had as a child, then, well,” Elaina held out her free hand, the light of Lariel’s sword materializing for a moment.

“You actually got to do it,” Seelah nodded as the light faded. “So, what she said about destiny and duty was what convinced you?”

“Somewhat,” Elaina admitted as she took another swig from her bottle. “Do you want me to walk you through it? It might be the easiest way to explain it.”

“Do I need to get Nenio first? For the Encyclopedia, of course.”

Elaina chuckled, “Maybe, but I’m sure she’ll pester it out of me later if she wants it.” The paladin sobered up. “At first I couldn’t understand it. What had I done wrong? Was it because of how I was trying to reform the Crusader ranks into something more cohesive? Was it Konomi, especially after she told me to treat Konomi’s words as her own?”

Seelah nodded along. She was well familiar with Elaina and Konomi going head to head over the Isger issue or the Knight-Commander endorsing the Royal Council, and how Sosiel’s suggested compromises were barely keeping things from escalating. The possibility that Galfrey had actually been in agreement with Konomi?

“In the end, you saw what she tried to use. Arueshalae and the Sword of Valor. As if the mission itself might not be enough to warrant it, temporarily. If we ever came back. I started to think the queen was more concerned about her own power, just like the Royal Council or the noble families. About being right rather than doing the right thing.”

“So what changed?”

“Something Yaniel said - that Galfrey was still much the same decades later, but broken. As if the decades had worn her down.”

Elaina took a long drink from her bottle. This was getting to the heart of the matter.

“You started to feel bad for her, didn’t you?”

“Somewhat,” Elaina admitted, “but I think what I really started to do was ask how she could have ended up like that. Started trying to see what I was doing from her perspective. Started thinking about some of the older brothers and sisters at the abbey, and how worn they were. How much worse is it for someone who has seen generations grow up and die under the shadow of the Worldwound? And without victories like Drezen along the way?”

“I get it: she was tired, then we showed up and yanked the rug out from under her, didn’t we?”

“Exactly. All while she was still stuck in the same rut of holding Mendev together while someone else won all the victories. And you know as well as I do how people refuse to consider keeping the Abyss contained a form of victory.”

“That’s the jealousy she mentioned,” Seelah was catching on now. “And after decades of just going through the motions, something in her snapped? She tried to step up again, but couldn’t as long as we were there. As long as you were Knight-Commander.”

“That was the last piece that put it all together. But I was already prepared to forgive her, because…” Elaina finished the bottle. “I would have been no better in her place. I hope I would be better, but if I had to go through the same thing? If I outlived all my friends and only had followers left? I probably would have made the same mistake.”

Seelah stayed silent, unsure of what to say in response to that. She settled for finishing her bottle as well.

[thezombieprostitute]

Sparks Fly - Part 4

Summary: After working as an engineer for Wilford & Gilliam Trust for several years you find evidence of seedy dealings and burned books. After turning in the evidence you find yourself in danger and seek help. You're taken into the protection of a mob family where you run into your high school best friend, Mace.

Word Count: ~1200

Warnings: Implied violence and attempted murder. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

“DC,” Mace whispers between kisses. “DC, we gotta stop.”

“What? Why,” you whine as he gently pushes you away.

“You’ve had a roller coaster of a week,” he explains. “Your emotions have been, understandably, all over the place. I want to make sure you’re in the right state of mind, that I’m not taking advantage of you.”

You can see the pain in his face as he says this. It’s clear he wants to keep going but he’s putting your emotional needs first and it makes you want him more. But you know he’s right. You hug him tight and ask, “can we still cuddle on the couch? Make out some more?”

“Absolutely,” he breathes, making you giggle. “Want to do that now,” he asks.

“Gotta finish the fries first,” you tell him, moving back to your seat. He chuckles and nods, “okay. I submit to french fry superiority.” You giggle and he continues, “we probably should use this time to talk about what’s going to happen during and after your testimony.” You sigh but nod in agreement. “I’m currently waiting to hear back if I can be with you at the courthouse but I’m hopeful. Between GBH, Barton and maybe Fowler we’ll have at least one person outside the courtroom and one inside. The third would most likely be outside the courthouse."

“And you trust them,” you say more than ask. 

He nods in affirmation, “absolutely. They’re really good at keeping people alive.” You pause your eating and he thinks, “there’s probably a better way I could’ve worded that. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. I know what you’re trying to say.” You resume eating your meal so he continues. 

“As for after your testimony, I know from previous experiences that you’ll have a few options. One of them is your standard Witness Protection. We’ve got some connections with the Federal Marshalls and we can get you to them. New name, new city, and some protection. The other version of that is we set you up with a new name and enough money to start a new life in a new city. One of the primary differences being we could get you set up in another country all together.”

“What if I don’t want to leave?” 

“What?”

“I worked so hard to get where I am, I don’t want to just drop everything and leave.”

“DC, these people are trying to kill you. What’s the point of holding onto everything if it just leaves you dead?”

“I’m going to die eventually, regardless of whichever option I choose. I might as well choose the option that makes me happy. What makes me happy is living here, being with you again.”

“I…I don’t know,” Mace admits. “I’m not sure how much protection we can actually offer if you’re not working for us. You’re doing everyone a huge favor by testifying, of course, but…”

“Will you at least look into it as an option, AC?”

He thinks for a minute, eyes never leaving yours. “Let me call Teach,” he finally says. “If there’s a way, she can find it.”

“Thank you, Mace. I really appreciate it.”

“Mace,” Teach says over the phone, “I’m gonna need you to put me on speaker for this.”

He quickly pulls the phone away from his ear and puts it on speaker so you can hear as well. “Done,” he tells her.

“Ms. Y/L/N, can you hear me?” Teach’s tone is very serious. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” you’re quick to reply. 

“I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to be completely honest with me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you nod, even though she can’t see you.

“What is your primary reason for wanting to risk your life by staying in this city?”

You pause. She’s not beating around the bush at all. “My life is going to be at risk in any of the scenarios I was presented with. It’s just a matter of to what degree. The relocation options would certainly make it difficult for me to be found, especially the international one. However, the people who might occasionally check in on my safety have no investment to do so other than pay obligations. Additionally, I’d never know if I could actually trust anyone. I wouldn’t be living beyond going through the motions. I’d spend my life looking over my shoulder with minimal support.”

Looking at Mace, you continue, “whereas if I stay here, I have people I can trust. People who are invested in my safety."

“Will you accept one of the other options if we are unable to provide you the protection and means to stay?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“One last question,” Teach says. “Is your primary interest in staying because of Mace?”

You hold Mace’s free hand, fingers interlacing with his, “I’ll admit he is a major factor. But, as he pointed out recently, we’ve only been back in each other’s lives for a couple of days. I have a life here that I’m not willing to just give up without a fight. Or at least exploring all of the options. I understand your organization may not be able to offer more than this one time protection and one clean slate and I accept that. But I have to try.”

Teach is quiet for a moment, “okay. I’m gonna need a copy of your resume. Mace will know how to get it to me. In the meantime, please make sure to take care of yourself. You’ve got your testimony in just a couple of days. Which reminds me, Mace?”

“Yeah, Teach?” Mace moves closer to the phone.

“You’ve gotten approval to be in the courtroom but you are not allowed to actually be in proximity. Huffman needs to make sure none of our people are seen too close to her or the Defendant might be able to claim witness tampering.” 

“Okay,” Mace nods. “That makes sense. Just so long as someone tells me what room to be in and when I can go in on my own.”

“And Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Yes, Teach?”

“You’ll have to be careful to not make too much eye contact with Mace. I understand you want some emotional support for this, but we have to be careful to make sure your testimony isn’t dismissed.”

“I understand, Ma’am.”

Teach hangs up and you curl up against Mace. You work with him to get a copy of your resume to her quickly.

“Do you think she’ll be able to find something,” you ask Mace after he sends the file.

“If anyone can, it’s her,” he assures you. “She’s quite the fighter, especially when she thinks it’s for something that’s right.”

“I hope she finds something,” you whisper.

Mace nods, “in the meantime, we should make sure to get you ready for your testimony. Like she said, I won’t be able to be with you but you’ll see me. I promise.”

“Thanks, AC. I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”

Part 3 -- Part 5

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