#That he couldn't keep an eye on Pierce 24/7 and he has nothing on a hoard of pissed off demons

[stxrr-strxckk]

"Trust me darling, I'm not the man you think I am." part  II

Work rivals to lovers with Carmen Berzatto. (read part I here!!)

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x fem!reader

Synopsis: Maybe Carmy's work crush isn't as one sided as he thought...

Any warnings?: Not very proofread writing, cursing, and some innuendos

What's that on the record player?: Pretty girls make graves; The smiths

The only thing Carmy thinks about when walking into the kitchen is himself. Things like how he's going to smoke everyone in that damn kitchen like they were a pack of cigs on a smoke break. He'd make sure they knew he was the best, and there was nothing they could do about it. He was a man on a mission, laser focused on whatever he had to cook for that night. Nothing could get in his way.

Except you.

You, with the loud mouth and messy station and attitude like no other. If you weren't somehow royally fucking up another one of Carmy's dishes or moods, it was because you two were in a screaming match in the back of the kitchen.

So of course it's natural of him to be watching your every move, making sure that whatever the hell is going on in that brain, that it doesn't fuck up his routine like it has so many goddamn times in the past.

Right?

Yes, it's perfectly normal for him to spend every minute of his job, the one he worked so hard to get, ignoring everything but you. Hey, he's just being prepared. How else to make sure you're not getting in the way of his perfectly planned out station?

But lately? Carmen was beginning to realize his staring was a bit more than just a precaution.

God, ever since that fucking lamb he couldn't keep his eyes off you. That memory lived rent free in his mind 24/7, and he found his consciousness drifting there every free second he had.

Especially with what happened with the mint jelly.

"What about the mint jelly?" Carmy felt a little jolt go through his body. The look on your face, so innocent and pure. Something in him wanted to ruin it, make you feel the sin that covered his body. The hope in your eyes and the smile threatening to curve onto your gorgeous lips was enough for him to give in to your demands.

"Fuck, really? Yeah. Fuck. Let's do this." He could feel himself smiling, and you soon return the favor. How could you not? Carmen rarely smiled, but when he did? You had to admit, it was adorable. There was a child-like, naive charm about that grin. He was like a little kid again, and you just wanted to hug him in that moment.

"Great! Yeah, let's uh, let's go over here, and you can show me how to do this. Properly." God, were you really being nice to Carmen Berzatto? Fuck, what kind of demon had possessed you tonight?

You follow Carmy as he shuffles towards your station once again. He grabs the pan holding your runny jelly, grabbing a nearby spoon to taste. You feel heat rush to your cheeks. It was embarassing, really. Here was probably the best chef in all of New York-and he was taking time out of his shift to help you make a fucking jelly.

As he takes the spoon in his mouth, Carmy can feel his eyes widen. While yes, the consistency was off- it was barely even jelly, anymore, the taste was there. And it wasn't even half bad.

"Mmm," he savors the flavor, and you look at him anxiously. "That," he points to the pan. "is good shit."

"Really?" you let out a sigh of relief, and Carmy nods. The look on your face makes him want to smile again. Your bright eyes and wide smile have him thinking one thing: cute.

"Yeah, uh, I mean- it's not perfect. Definitely not perfect. Like, it's all runny and shit- and that's-that's not good. But the flavor is spot on. It's- it's fire." he replies, wiping the corner of his mouth on his sleeve before setting down the spoon.

"Thanks." you say awkwardly, gazing down at the floor. You hate to admit you're scared to meet his piercing blue gaze.

"Damn." Carmy says, placing his hands on his hips. "At least I know why they haven't fired you yet."

And just like that, Old Carmy's back.

"What do you mean, why they haven't fired me yet?" You inquire, looking up at him with slight annoyance. "Are you questioning my ability?"

"What? Oh fuck- no. No. Not at all." he stammers, trying to recover. "I just meant that- while the taste is good, the presentation is sloppy, which isn't- it's not what most restaurants want. So it's like, surprising if you haven't tasted the food that you're still around. But- but I tasted the food, and- you know what, I guess I was wrong."

"Wow, Carmen Berzatto admitting he's wrong? That's shocking, considering how fucking stubborn you are." you retort. Thank god, you were beginning to get worried that maybe you were a total asshole to this guy for no reason. But nope, you were right. Carmen's a dick.

"I- how am I stubborn? How? Give me one- one fucking example of me being stubborn. I fuckin' dare you." he raises his voice, and you take a step towards him.

"Gee, let me think. How about every fuckin' day, not taking any suggestions from anyone because you think we're all fucking below you?"

"Okay, okay- first of all, I don't think you're below me-"

"Then how come you never take anything I say seriously? It's like-"

"Don't fuckin' interrupt me, I'm trying to explain myself- if you'd let me-"

"Hey, maybe I wouldn't be interrupting you if you fucking listened to me every once in a while-"

"Maybe I'd listen if you had good ideas-"

"What, like your ideas are better than mine?"

"You know what, yeah! And my dishes are too, bitch!"

"The fuck are you saying about my dishes? You saying I'm a bad chef?"

"Actually- yeah! Yeah, I am saying that! You're a bad chef! You. Are. A. Bad-"

"Oh fuck off, Carmy!"

"Make me! Fuckin-"

"Last time I checked, this was MY station! So how about you leave me the fuck alone, Carmen?"

"I'm only over here 'cause you needed my help so goddamn badly! That lamb was fucking so raw I could hear it fuckin' bleatin' still!"

"I didn't ASK you to help! You just fuckin- sauntered over like some macho man-"

Ah, classic Carmen. Back to bickering with everyone he knew. Especially you. The other chefs start to gather around, watching your argument with the bastard. You two were leaned so close together, faces inches from the other's as you two screamed at each other.

"...Yeah, I said it, and I fucking meant it! And I'll say it again! You're a fuckin'-"

"HEY!"

Your voice fell silent, as well as Carmen's. The group of chef's surrounding you two turned, revealing a head chef who didn't look too pleased.

"Back to work everyone. This is a kitchen, not a preschool. Leave the fights for the playground."

That seemed to end it, and the crowd dispersed. You stared at where the crowd once stood, but Carmy snapped you back to reality.

"Back alley. Now."

You followed him, confused. Why were you going to the alley? To argue more? Or maybe he had something else planned. You shivered at the thought of him pushing you up against the brick wall, trapping you between his strong arms and doing whatever he wanted to you. You wish you didn't enjoy the idea.

As you left the kitchen, coat in hand, cold night air greeted your skin. It was accompanied by the smell of smoke. Carmy leaned against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a lighter in his right hand.

He glanced over at you, and raised his eyebrows. "Cig?" he offered the pack to you, and you shook your head.

"Smoking kills, you know." You shiver, and he shrugs.

"Why do you think I do it?"

"God, that was a stupid ass line." you laugh, rubbing your arms to try and warm them up. Curse these New York winters. You looked towards Carmy again, wondering the hell he could survive without a jacket on in his freezing weather.

"You cold?" he asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"No shit, sherlock. Great observation."

He chuckles, seemingly a lot more cooled down thanks to the nicotine.

You two sit in silence for a minute, before he speaks again.

"I got a coat, you want it?"

You freeze, contemplating both your shock and your answer. Why was he being so nice? Carmy's usually the biggest asshole in New York, maybe even the united states. But here he is, offering you his coat like it's some kind of first date? Fuck, it's kinda sweet.

You nod, teeth chattering. You figure no harm done; it was either this or freeze to death on the streets of New York. Carmy takes a final puff of his cigarette, before dropping it and putting it out with his shoe. He heads back inside, returning with a heavy winter jacket. He puts it around your shoulders, and you start to feel warmer.

"Thanks." you say. He doesn't reply, enjoying the background noise of the busy New York streets. You decide this is as good a time as ever to cool down, let off some steam. You had to admit, it did get heated in there. You regretted some of the things you said, but there was no way in hell you'd admit that to him.

"Sorry I called you a bitch."

"What?" you laugh. There's no way Carmen Berzatto just apologized. He never apologizes for anything, but now he's saying sorry to you? Of all people, you?

"I said I'm sorry I called you a bitch. Wasn't cool on my end."

"... Apology accepted." you reply awkwardly, trying not to smile. It was oddly sweet of him to actually say sorry for once. "Sorry I said you were an asshole."

"Nothing I haven't heard before." he shrugged. "Plus, you weren't wrong. I was being an asshole."

"Glad you noticed." a laugh escapes your throat. Carmy feels himself blush, but maybe it's just the cold biting at his cheeks.

"So, should we head back inside?" you offered. "I don't know about you, but I'm freezing to death."

"Yeah, sure." he agrees. "You go first, I'm gonna wait out here a bit longer." he adds, watching as you rush back inside, to the heated kitchen.

"Fuck..." is all he manages to say, staring up at the dark sky. It started snowing, he noted. There was already some piled around from the last few days, but this one seemed different. This was one to enjoy. This was one for friends, for family, for lovers.

He wished you'd stayed out here with him.

A/n: Chapter 2 of my work rivals fic is DONE! Hope y'all like it, I'm pretty invested in this series. Tell me if you've got any ideas on what should happen next! Remember to reblog, like, follow, and send in requests! XX, Starr!

Wordcount: 1,885

[casimania]

Next drabble idea I'll probably never write: AU season 4 where Lucifer still has to leave for Hell but it's Piercifer and he leaves Marcus behind who just... slowly spends more and more time at the penthouse until he's basically living there outside of work and moping around. Drinking, growing the depression beard back, cursing at Lucifer and God, badly singing sad songs and playing along with his guitar, just being a sad sack in general.

Except this is either also a Deckerstar AU (poly but a V with Lucifer in the middle) or Lucifer has been Chloe's closest friend and partner for years and she misses him, so one day she doesn't have Trixie and she just misses him a lot she sneaks up the penthouse. And there's just Pierce and his beard and a terrible bed head in his sweats and a t-shirt surrounded by empty bottles of not so cheap alcohol and half empty bottles of definitely not so cheap alcohol. And she's immediately backing away because she's good at second guessing herself and thinks she's intruding but he's like "He left you too behind, didn't he?" and waves a bottle in her direction. Cause of course she misses him too, and in a way they both remind each other of him. So she takes the alcohol and sits down. They don't talk much, just drink and sigh. She doesn't have it in her to leave when it gets dark outside so Pierce leaves her the bed since he's been sleeping there pretty much all the time. And he just throws his legs on the couch and passes out there.

[[MORE]]

... Okay I'm definitely making it a Deckerstar + Piercifer V, I just like the idea rn. Anyway, they go on with this routine for a while. Chloe comes over when Dan (or Dan and Charlotte together) has Trixie with him (they alternate whole weeks now, he's learned to do dad stuff in a timely manner finally). They drink and sorta grunt or sigh in each other's general direction and just amble around the penthouse. Sometimes Chloe puts a movie on to take her mind off things (stuff she watched with Lucifer) and a couple of times Pierce just sits down and read one of Lucifer's books and they fall asleep in front of the tv some of those ones.

One evening Marcus finds Chloe going through the freezer and she pulls aside a few ice cream tubs with like, unicorns or puppies on them (Marcus already saw them and was kinda "??", Chloe says Trixie likes the big screen and Lucifer playing songs for her so he bought some snacks for her for when she came over. She dives more into the freezer and they both pretend she's not suddenly holding back tears) she hits jackpot when she finds some ice cream with a fancy name and no cartoony animals or overly sweet flavours and she doesn't even both with a bowl, just takes a spoon (then goes back for another she throws at Marcus) . And she sits disgruntled in front of the TV and eats it. She's stressed over a case and just murders the absolute shit out of the ice cream, she pushes it Pierce's way a couple of times and he gets like the tiniest spoonfuls and then she's back at shoveling it back in her mouth looking absolutely miserable.

Pierce surprised them both by asking her about the case (they usually don't talk much in these moments). He knows the gist of it because he assigned it to her but she was decidedly in a better mood earlier. And she says it's not as much as the case being overly complicated, she has hunch, but for the first time she was in the middle of an interrogation or a investigating and she was suddenly hit with all the ways Lucifer could have influenced the situation. And then her brain just couldn't turn it off and she basically couldn't stop thinking about him. Going back to the precinct didn't help, he was always sitting on her desk. There's Marcus himself who Lucifer always made a beeline for a couple of times at least and he's looking like as sad as a saggy bowl of cereals too and that made her only think more about Lucifer being gone. She thought retreating at the penthouse could have helped but instead of being a comfort and making her feel like he's still somewhat around, it just makes her feel more the fact that he's not there and could never come back. And from there it's like, the gates are open. They start to talk about Lucifer. They get angry at him, they get angry at God, they get angry at the demons who came for him and at all the angels who didn't help and they it just ends up with them just talking about Lucifer in general. The hit he pulled that exasperated them, that was actually kinda funny or just so Lucifery you just took it as it came.

And it's a first for them. Not just talking about Lucifer or with each other at the penthouse. Just the two of them talking in general. They sort of exist in the same space because they both love Lucifer in this AU. But Chloe has to digest the Sinnerman thing. Cause I think she wouldn't hold onto the First Murderer thing because in her mind, ideally one would have had a trial and appropriate punishment in that situation. But between the time it was and who they were he got himself a literal Curse. He did a bad thing but she can't really wrap her mind around the punishment, people go to prison and never get out or people go to prison and then get out and try to live a normal life. He had God himself him Mark him as forever wandering the Earth alone and she's just... what does she do with that?? Biblical stuff is just too fucked up for her. She acknowledges that's stuff that happens 6000+ years ago and Pierce is gonna deal with that with Pierce and Lucifer. She had more of an issue with his more recent crime boss things. Lucifer skirts the line of what she finds okay, Dan went dangerously over some times, Pierce has been living on the other side for so long she's just no ok with that. But they all have a complicated situation. And in the 2 years he got to know Lucifer he sort of, dropped the whole thing (and may have been sort of ratting out some people because it seemed to make Lucifer happy because it made Chloe happy). She recognizes it doesn't make what he did retroactively better but look, she has a complicated love life. If what it took to make an old ass immortal man a little more nice and human is the Devil himself making puppy eyes at him and naming him feel bad about fucked up shit he does forth first time in millennia... she decides she can sort of deal with it. And for Marcus is sort of :/ over Chloe being a mortal, cause he knows it hurts losing someone to time and he can just imagine how Lucifer will suffer, especially since he feels just so much (and it takes him a while to get out of this mentality, that doesn't makes him think Lucifer gets attached to humans only because he's gotten to know them for so little compared to him, that with enough time they'll be the same, cause his is the only logical way of feeling over this). And in general he's got some deep seated fear that Chloe was put on Lucifer's path for nefarious purposes. They all have that little moment of doubt, like okay she has her feelings and takes her choices?? But what if God knew Marcus and Lucifer would have crossed paths and Chloe is there to prevent it in osns way? Or to be used to send him back to Hell? They reflect on it a little and get over it mostly, but Marcus still has this little voice inside him saying that maybe she's there for Lucifer to think "Why have him when I can have her?" the only things he seemingly brings in the relationship is immortality and understanding through that, but Lucifer lurks defying expectations and just went "BOTH BOTH I LOVE BOTH I WANT BOTH IF THEY'LL HAVE ME" and told them in detail what wonderful things they both brought to the relationship (Chloe needed that too. From her pov she's the one that can't fully get Lucifer and will just hurt him by dying in such a short time and maybe never see him again. But he proves both of their fears wrong). So yeah, until this point they were never really making comfortable conversation all the time and hanging out together. Just recognized each other as someone important to Lucifer that makes him happy and they were trying to work out if they could live in close contact when shit hit the fan and Lucifer had to go.

And from then they form some sort of understanding. They talk more about Lucifer. They get Eve, Maze, Dan, Charlotte, Linda and Amenadiel and try to make him contact other Angels and then shit happen with Azrael and Ella joins the Celestial-knowing club. They make concrete plans to get him out. They start being more like themselves and interact more in general.

Then one day Chloe is under the covers of Lucifer's bed and Marcus is on the other side and has kicked them off (it's easier than just taking turns, and while they never got to the point with having Lucifer time all together in an intimate way, they don't find it weird, sharing living spaces was something they had been considering before things got fucked up) and they suddenly wake up in a tangle of blankets and feathers and ashes and there's Lucifer looking absolutely terrible but he lights up like the Sun upon seeing them and they immediately pounce on him. He thinks he's dreaming and they tell him they've been just sort of living there together when Dan has Trixie and they want to know what's going on. Unfortunately it's not permantent, the demons are chilling enough he can fly up for a little while but he still has to go back if they don't find a solution. He mostly does it to get his Chloe and Marcus fills and cry a little about how much he loves them and wishes he didn't have to leave them and will find a way to come back to them permanently and he's sorry he left looking intend on not coming back (he tought it was the best option, but he just missed them so much).

And nothing. Shit's fucked but slowly maybe they find a solution. Didn't really wrote a plot. I just wanted Chloe and Marcus moping together over Lucifer and talking about him and helping each other get out of the dark pit of despair.

[hazbbyhaz]

sleepless || harry styles

twelve

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: he finds out the truth

disclaimer: nightmares, mentions of blood, mentions of head injury, talk of scars

All I do is mend to break you free

When he was twelve, Harry had attended his first piano lesson. He had heard the melody on the radio on the car ride back from school, and even though he couldn't recall its name, the melody was stuck in his head the entire day.

The sound of the keys, soft in the beginning but growing more desperate as the song went on amazed him. It made him want to learn how to do that, how to convey your emotions without using a single word.

At dinner, he had told his parents, upon first listen they were skeptical. Maybe it was because he had previously taken recorder lessons and violin lessons, neither sticking with him for long, but in the end, they decided to give it a try.

Harry never got good at the piano. He tried and he tried, he did. He tried so hard, but he never got where he had wanted to be. Somewhen he had forgotten the melody that had made him want to learn in the first place, and along with the melody, his ambitions vanished as well. Now he was able to play some things, just enough to fool someone who couldn’t play at all.

You didn’t need to know anything about the instrument to notice that Avery’s piano was completely out of tune. It was a beautiful instrument, a black sohmar, a decent brand that doesn't age well.

Harry made himself another tea at midnight, not a single noise had come from the bedroom and he had checked in Avery several times. Each time she had been curled up into a tight ball, as if she had been trying to attain the smallest ounce of warmth, and she had a small frown on her face. She looked like a small child.

While he waited for the kettle to boil, he called Francis. Francis was staying at his parent’s house for a couple of weeks, and knowing how he felt about being there, Harry called often. He picked up after the first ring.

“Hello?” Francis’s groggy voice answered, the sound made a small smile appear on Harry's face.

“Hey Fran, how are you?” Harry opened the cabinet to look for anything other than the bitter peppermint tea, only seeking out a single bag of earl grey. With a shrug, he dropped it into his cup.

“I’m okay,” Francis replied, and he could hear him chuckle at the usage of his old nickname, one that hadn’t been used in a while. “My parents are watching me 24/7, I feel like I’m in a zoo with the word fragile written all over me.”

“But your mom makes that amazing lasagna, so you have no choice but to forgive them.”

“She’s on a health kick now, so all my dad and I are getting is salads and stirred vegetables.”

“We should get takeout when you’re back, from that restaurant we both like,” Harry suggested, pouring the hot water over the questionable tea bag.

“Yeah, we should do that…”

“When are you coming back?”

“Three weeks maybe? My parents want to drive up to my cousin's bar mitzvah next week.” Harry knew how much Francis hated family gatherings, and hoped that his change of tone was because of the bar mitzvah and not the usual thoughts that lurked in the back of his mind.

They talked for a few more minutes. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, sorry I don't feel well. Must be all the healthy stuff…” His reply comes a little too fast, and in his head, all that Francis hears is his usual desperate pleas. Harry, I wish you were here. They make me sick, all of them. Please. Please, just take me home.

“Okay.” It comes out more of a whisper. “Three weeks.”

“Three weeks.”

After the call had ended, Harry layed down on the sofa. Earlier that evening he had let in Oliver, who had been scratching on the window. The feline was now sitting opposite of him on the sofa, watching his every movement. “What're you looking at?” Oliver lets out a meow before licking his paw.

“You’re a bit of a twat, you know that? Leaving your owner all of the time to find shelter here. That's a bit rude. But, I think you make Ave happy, so please keep coming.” Oliver jumps up onto the coffee table.

“Except if there are other people you visit. That would be cheating, and we don’t tolerate that here. We should-”

The ear-piercing, agony filled NO that echoed through the small apartment made both Harry and the cat jump.

“Please! Please stop! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It won't happen again…”

Don’t wake me if I have a nightmare, okay?

What? Why?

Just please don’t wake me. You have to promise me.

Okay, I promise.

As soon as he heard her desperate cries, he knew that he would be breaking his promise. How is possible that the small, introverted, quiet Avery could scream like that? Her voice filled with so much pain, agony, and pure terror. She sounded like she was dying. It was absolutely horrible.

He felt helpless and for a moment he wasn’t able to move. He could only listen to her cries and his entire body went completely numb.

After taking a deep breath, he quickly made his way into her bedroom, and what he saw made his heart physically hurt. Avery was curled up, gripping her sheets, knuckles long-gone white, her cheeks were completely soaked in tears, and she was biting her lip so hard that it drew blood. Her screams never lessened, still filling the small space with agonizing cries.

“Avery…” Harry mumbles, trying so desperately to find his voice, just to speak louder. Just to help her. He needed to help her. “Avery please… please wake up.” His shaking hand carefully reached out to touch her shoulder, gaining no reaction from her. “Ave… don’t- you need to wake up…”

“Avery!” He finally managed to gain some control over his voice. The sound of her name made the girl jump back. For a second, she looked completely and utterly lost. Harry watched as her troubled mind slowly made its way back.

“Harry,” She whispered, lips quivering. “I’m bleeding… Harry, it hurts… it really hurts.” Her voice breaks like delicate glass, she brings the sheets even closer to her, her grip on them only growing tighter.

“Where Ave? Where are you bleeding? Where does it hurt?” He carefully sits down on the edge of her bed, leaving a small distance between them.

“The back of my head… I-I smashed it… It's bleeding.”

“Should I look?”

Her shaking halts for a small moment before nodding her head, turning around so Harry could examine the back of her head. He slowly moved closer, carefully parting her soft hair, but he found nothing. There was no blood, no wound, only a sizable scar that had healed long ago.

“You’re not bleeding Ave…”

The girl turns back around. “No, there has to be! I hit my head, Harry. I hit my head super hard and there was blood. It hurts, It hurt so bad!”

“There’s no blood Avery. Everything is okay… come here.” He opens his arms as her exhausted body almost falls into his embrace. “It hurts…”

“I know, Love, I know… but it's going to pass.”

“Is it?”

What was he supposed to say? What the fuck was he supposed to say? Nothing would ever be correct. Nothing. There was nothing that he could say that would make this right. Nothing that he could say that would make this go away.

How often does she wake up like this? How often does she wake up screaming because something horrible happened behind her closed eyes? How long had she been doing this alone?

What could he do? He wanted to make it stop. He did. He never wanted to hear her scream like that ever again. This was a sight so absolutely heartbreaking. To see her so utterly helpless. Harry wished that it was him that had to go through whatever she had to every time she tried to catch even a small moment of rest. There was nothing she could have possibly done to deserve this. Nothing.

So, he said the only thing that seemed right. It didn’t matter that it was a lie, not now anyway. That was a problem for the future. Right now, all that matters is the crying girl in his arms.

“Yes.” He said, because if he has any say in it at all, it will pass. He will make sure of it.

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