#and i pulled out an old paycheck and it happened to be one of his from last year fjdjdkskkw

[rebelliousstories]

Ex Lover’s Lover

Relationship: Cooper Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 2,093

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Part Two: My Baby Shot Me Down

Summary: Cooper Howard gets introduced to a new up and coming actress after his divorce is finalized. What happens when Barb finds out that Janey has been spending time with the two of them?

The sound of giggles and laughter filled the beautiful California ranch home. It was a sound that had almost never existed there again, but that all changed. Two adults were running around their dinning room in just their bathing suits because someone decided to tickle the other one.

“You ain’t gettin’ me, Coop! Not gonna happen!” The sweet accented voice rang through.

“Oh yes I am, darling.” He replied, darting around the table just in time to catch the woman. Wrapping his arms around her, Cooper began to drag her back outside to make use of their hot tub. She giggled the entire way back, and laughed when Cooper picked her up in a bridal hold to set her in the warm water. There was a tray of drinks waiting for them from before they had gotten side tracked.

“Now that we aren’t goin’ to be distracted any longer,” he groaned as he slipped into the warm water. “Here you are, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, hun. Ugh, this is just what I needed. You have no idea the day I have had.” She took a sip of her martini and relaxed further into the water. Cooper squeezed her thigh underneath the water to prompt her into talking about whatever it was.

“So the new Nuka-Cola ads ran today, and I get it, they want the prettiest image out of the bunch. But the retouching they did afterwards made my lips look twice their size. I look like I have clown lips,” pausing to take a sip, “and when I brought up my concerns to John he said, and I quote, ‘that’s what the people want. They want sex appeal.’ I’m selling a drink, not myself for a few bucks for the hour.” She ended her long rant with another sip of her drink.

“Darlin’ why don’t you find a new manager?” He asked, following her lead with his own martini.

“Cause John is a family friend. If I didn’t use him as my manager, my family would freak out. I’m tryin’ to get them out of the slums in Dallas.” Her voice wavered as she thought about it.

“Well, baby. What do you wanna do about it?” Cooper set down his glass on the ledge and turned his body fully towards his lover.

“I don’t know, Coop. I’m just hopin’ this bullshit dies down before the new movie. I’m just so stressed all the time right now. And I wanna go back to when I was actin’ for the love of it. Not just the love of a paycheck.” Downing the rest of her glass, and eating her olive, her hands were relieved of its glass by Cooper. He maneuvered her from her seat to his lap, and wrapped his arms around her middle.

“Darlin’, you can do whatever the hell you want. If you wanna get back into acting for the love of it, you can. If you wanna change a manager, let your family be mad. You’re gonna take over the world one day. I just hope I’m round to see it.” Howard started to press kisses to any and all skin he could get access to. He was briefly interrupted by her hand hitting his own shoulder, and he began to chuckle.

“Shut it. You’re not that old. You’ll still be around to see me reach your level of stardom.” She teased, pressing her lips against his. Their lips moved against each other as hands began to roam. The couple lost themselves in the moment, and did not pull away for anything. That was, until, someone’s stomach growled loudly.

“You hungry there baby?” Cooper teased, rubbing the front of her bathing suit, right over her stomach.

“You know drinking makes me hungry.” She whined, hitting her lover again when he laughed at her.

“If you think it’s so funny, you can go get food to bring out. How about that?” And she scooted off of Cooper to the bench seat of the hot tub. The man groaned, but made the move to get out of the warm water.

“Alright. What you want, baby?” He asked, wrapping his robe around him to make his way to the house.

“Can you get the cheese board from earlier? That sounds wonderful.” She leaned up to give him a kiss as he passed by, before settling back into the water. Cooper walked into the house and quickly found the board that she had made for an appetizer before their dinner. He was about to leave with the board when the phone rang. Setting the food down, Cooper padded over to the phone, and answered.

“Hello?” He asked, waiting to hear the voice on the other end of the line.

“Coop, hey. It’s me.” It was his ex-wife, Barb, on the phone.

“What do you want, Barb?” As much as he tried to sound indifferent, he was worried it came across as rude.

“Listen, I need you to take Janey. I have a big meeting at work tomorrow morning and my babysitter can’t make it. Please, I really need this favor.”

“It’s a Saturday tomorrow, Barb. What the hell you doin’ that’s so important?” He questioned, leaning against the wall.

“It doesn’t matter. Please, Cooper. Will you come take her for the weekend? You guys can start your week early this way.” She pleaded over the phone. Cooper scrubbed a hand over his face while the other held the phone.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll come get her. Be there soon.” He hung up the phone before she could say another word. With a deep sigh, he opened the door to the backyard and made his way over to the hot tub where his lover looked like she was about to fall asleep.

“Darlin’,” he shook her and watched her slowly come back to the land of the living. “Gotta go pick up Janey. Wanna come with me?”

“Yeah. I’d love to. You know I love that little girl.” She stretched and made her way out of the tub where Cooper waited with her robe. They made quick work of getting dressed and ready for the evening drive. The sun was just about to set when they left their house and got in the car.

It was a little over an hour before they arrived at Barb’s new house where the lights were still on. The entire drive over Cooper kept squeezing her hand, thigh, or really and part he could hold. There was something nerve wracking about seeing Barb knowing what he knew. He was not looking forward to it, but she was the mother of his child; that would never be taken away.

Getting out of the car, Cooper ran around and opened the door for his lover, before grabbing her hand to walk themselves up to the door. He knocked, and waited. The door opened up to the face of his ex-wife. She relaxed upon seeing Cooper, but was shocked to see the woman beside him.

“Hey,” Barb turned back to her ex-husband, “thank you for coming to get her. Come in. She’s just getting her things.” The couple walked inside the luxurious home. Everything in it looked like it was from a magazine.

“Cooper, may I talk to you?” Barb whispered, beginning to drag the man into the kitchen. He turned to his girlfriend, and only went when she nodded. Walking into the kitchen, he placed his hands in his pockets, and waited for her to speak.

“What is she doing here?” She just came out and said it.

“What do you mean?” Cooper responded.

“Don’t give me that, Coop. I thought it was just her imagination, but now I can see that Janey wasn’t lying.” Barb continued, placing her hands on her hips.

“The hell do you mean?” He asked once more.

“What are you doing with a girl young enough to be your daughter?” It was finally out in the open.

“Barb,” Cooper began, “she is a wonderful lady and I’m really happy with her. She’s of legal, consenting age. I didn’t coerce her into anything. She makes me happy and she makes Janey happy.”

“But she is so young. What’s gonna happen when she decides she doesn’t want to be with you anymore and leaves? Then you and Janey are heartbroken.” Her stern words caused Cooper to reel back as if he had been slapped.

“Wow. You really think that she is going to leave me just like that? Because of my age?” He watched as Barb stammered and tried to back pedal on her words. But Cooper just held up a hand, and silenced her.

“Listen, we’ve talked about our age difference. Hell, this is not the first time that I’ve thought about that. But every time I try and bring it up, she’s the one that puts me in my place. We love each other, of course I want her to be around Janey. And they love each other.” Cooper had stunned Barb into silence. The sincerity in his words was shocking to his ex-wife. All she could do was nod without a word as she tried to think. But before she could get another word in, footsteps ran into the kitchen.

“Daddy!” Janey yelled, happily throwing herself at her father.

“Oh, hello sweet pea! You been good for your momma this week?” He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he set her back down. She nodded eagerly, and smiled, which prompted her parents to smile. Another set of footsteps came in the room.

“Sorry, I know y’all were talkin’. But she was so excited to hear daddy was here.” Cooper’s girlfriend had made her way into the kitchen. Neither her nor her lover missed the way Barb’s face screwed up at the mere sight of her. Extending her hand, she introduced and gave her name to the older woman.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you. Janey has told me so much about you.” Barb shook the woman’s hand with a firm grasp.

“Likewise,” she turned to her daughter, “alright. You go have fun with daddy and his friend?”

“She’s not just his friend. Daddy loves Cola like he loved you, mommy.” Her words held an innocence that only a child could have. The three adults looked in between each other with solemn looks.

“Come on, Janey. Let’s let momma and daddy finish their conversation. Can I have the keys, please?” She held out her hands, and offered one to Janey while the other waited for the keys to the car. Cooper handed them over and sent a smile towards his girls as they left.

“At least she’s polite. That seems to be a lost skill for this generation.” Barb commented, tapping her nails against the counter top.

“Yeah she is. Listen, she’s going to be a staple in my life and Janey’s for the foreseeable future. So just try and keep the comments to a minimum. Good luck at your meeting.” And with that, Cooper left his ex-wife’s presence.

When he left the house, he felt like he could breathe again. Letting out a sharp exhale, Howard did not notice his ex-wife watching him from the window with a mournful expression. He opened the car door and smiled at the sound of laughter.

“Now what are we laughing about in here, huh?” He pressed, turning towards his daughter and lover. They shared a look and giggled to themselves once more.

“Nothing. Just laughing about the new advertisement that Janey saved.” She replied, showing Cooper the clipped out image. It was the same one that she had been lamenting over earlier in the hot tub.

“Gotta say darlin’. Clown look is a good look on you.” Everyone laughed at that, and Cooper handed the image back to his daughter before driving out and away, back to his house.

“Can we get ice cream?” Janey piped up after a minute. Cooper looked in the mirror to his daughter, and then over to his lover in the passenger seat.

“Well, I don’t see why not. Whatcha say, Nuka-Cola? Want a Nuka-Cola float?” He teased, squeezing her thigh when she slapped his shoulder.

“Maybe a root beer float. Do you know the chemicals in Nuka-Cola?” She quipped back, holding Cooper’s hand tightly in hers on her lap.

“Alright, well, let’s go get something for y’all’s sweet tooth.” They continued driving, talking, and laughing all the way to the ice cream parlor. And it was there,the Cooper realized that he could find a second chance at love and a family.

[helluvapoison]

Hi! I feel a little awkward bc I’ve never asked anonymously but I really wanted to ask this but wasn’t comfortable enough to ask regularly, but I really enjoy your hazbin works and the hyperfixation has been gripping me HARD and I wanted to see what you’d think of a Lucifer x Reader where they have a sort of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts vibes, where Reader is his personal assistant and what your thought on that are?

~✨

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

i put my thoughts at the bottom :3c

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• As his colleague, Lucifer is rather frustrating. He hired you as his personal assistant but won’t let you assist

• In the beginning, the most he’ll ask of you is if you know where something is. The answer is usually in his hand or line of sight. Without making him feel dumb, you simply retrieve it for him

• It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucifer either. He praises you often and in the form of a soft, “What would I do without you?”

• “I’m sure I don’t want to find out, Mr Morningstar.”

• Maybe it takes a minute for the initial “I’m working for the King of Hell” shock to wear off and when it does you realize it was clouding your judgment. Lucifer truly does require your help but he’s incapable of asking for what he needs; it’s up to you to step in and make necessary decisions on his behalf

• That’s what he’s paying you for, right?

• You tell him exactly what’s going to happen before you do it so he’s not caught off guard. He still is. Baffled, really, that you got so ballsy overnight

• Let the banter and boundary pushing begin. Nothing major! You just keep to your word, continuing your courageous streak

• Plucking all the sticky notes off the wall and collecting the ones that were so old they dropped to the floor, you spend an entire day sorting through them. You give his schedule a must needed update and sync it to both your phones so either of you could make changes and be alerted to it

“Why do I need your play-by-play?” He asks teasingly

“So you don’t call me at 4am because you forget I’m not here. Y’know, like last time.”

• Oh yeah, personal space and boundaries cease to exist between you. He’ll sit right next to you, or pull your chair closer to his. When he’s bored, he’ll sit right on your desk

• When he brings you to meetings, which is always because you’re supposed to be focusing on his behalf, he leans in and makes jokes that have you pressing your lips together to be quiet

• “I need to take notes,”

• “And you’re doing great, now jot down how Asmodeus’ shirt is on backwards,” He snickers

• Texting outside your shifts is a regular occurrence. Messages sent back and forth until it’s beyond sleeping hours and you tell him to go to bed

• “See you in 3 hours.” He texts back like he’s counting down (he is)

• Miraculously, you covered all corners of his (rather empty) mansion. Nothing was off limits to you except Charlie’s old room. You made sure dishes left his room or office and made it to the kitchen, checks for the house staff went out on time, supplies were stocked, etc.

• You take paperwork off his desk, screen and divert miscellaneous calls to your phone instead of his, overall taking unnecessary weight from his shoulders. You go as far as to pencil in mealtimes. It’s appreciated even though he’d still forget if you weren’t around

• “I’m beginning to suspect you’re underpaid,” Lucifer partially jokes

• You’re really, really not

• Sure, he spouts his stream of consciousness and it’s up for you to decipher what’s important and what’s just him sharing random details. Yes, he has you sit on his chair while he gestures wildly and explains the mechanics of something you don’t understand just because he’s excited about it. And yes, maybe, you spend too much time in his house than your own

• But you’re disgustingly overcompensated. You thought he made a mistake when you saw your paycheck. If not by actual money, Lucifer spoils you rotten in ways he definitely shouldn’t and doesn’t for his other employees

• “You deserve it for putting up with me,” His voice is laced with more adoration than acceptable, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

• You haven’t been doing it for the money in a long time

• The two of you have been teetering over the line of professional and inappropriate, praying, begging really, to fall on the side of the latter

• You almost kill him when you say you want to quit. Lucifer’s ready to offer you Hell on a golden platter if you’ll stay

• “It’s not about the money. I-I can’t do this anymore, I feel like a gold digger and I hate it! I don’t want to be your assistant, I want more and I–”

• Lucifer heard more and is struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss you

• “How much more?” He asks instead, voice cracking in anticipation, “If it’s in my power, it’s yours for the taking.”

• “Mr Morning—“

• “You want more? I can give you more. I can give you everything, anything, just tell me what you want. I know I’m a mess but I can be better! I can— I can,” Lucifer scrambles to find something, his wild eyes searching the air between you for anything you haven’t already done for him. He sighs, “I can be better, I promise…”

• “Because I want more too. I want to take you on cheesy dates, I want to have you beside me everywhere I go, I want all of Hell to know you’re mine. I want you to come here and stay here because you want to!” He wheezes and tugs at his collar, “And now I feel like want isn’t a word anymore because I’ve been saying it too much— do you ever do that? You say it over and over again and it starts to.. to…”

• He stares at your hand, placed softly over his to stop him from clutching at his clothes. Oh fuck, he can’t breathe

• “You’re really working for that pride title, aren’t you?” You tease softly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his vest before stealing his other hand, “Tell me more about what you want, Mr—“

• “Lucifer,” He all but begs

• “Lucifer,” You hum and he shivers, “What else?”

• “Don’t leave me,” He breathes, “I’ll be better.”

• “You’re already enough.”

• Painfully aware of how close the two of you have become, Lucifer struggles to keep your eyes locked with his. Your lips look so enticing, they always have

• His voice is quiet, almost broken, when he says, “I—I need you to say it.”

• “I won’t leave you. I’m still quitting though,” You smile, hovering over his lips, “So you’ll have to find a different way to compensate me.”

• “Pfft. Easy peasy,”

• He says nonchalantly as if he hasn’t tripped over nothing imagining your lips on his before. It’s nothing compared to the real thing

• Once again, you’re overcompensated

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ hello hi ✨! you’re getting a kith, c’mere. I absolutely see the vibes you’re going for and I am here for it!

i think tony and pepper are hilarious and adorable but i recognise it isn’t the healthiest of relationships out there. i know that’s not what you were implying at all though! the flirting, the bizarre requests, the shameless spending, the nonstop talking, the nonexistent boundaries, the devotion– yes, i see it i see it i see it!

i don’t think lucifer would raise his voice (not to you, anyways) you could get away with actual murder and that’s before he realizes his feelings for you. he can get rid of a body easily

lucifer may (like tony) forget the day of important dates but when he realizes, he makes up for it completely! he feels awful about it

if you look at something for 3 seconds too long, he’s buying it. if you show him something, he’s buying it. if he thinks you want it, he’s buying it

(like pepper) you definitely do put up with a lot of similar antics behind them though are good intentions and lucifer’s better at accepting fault. so if they genuinely upset you, he’ll find a way to mend it... usually it goes over the top

there’s really nothing lucifer wouldn’t do for you, it just takes some reminding that you’d do the same for him

[lesbianrobin]

you were warm when everything was cold

5,470 words

lucas/max, steve/eddie, lucas-centric

Lucas can't stop staring.

“Whaddya think?” Eddie twirls, showing off every angle of his borrowed letterman jacket with Harrington embroidered across the back. “So, Harrington? Gonna take me to the prom?”

Steve laughs, taking Eddie's outstretched hand and spinning him around again. “What, are we going steady?”

Eddie gasps. “Why, Steve, what kind of girl do you take me for? Of course we're going steady, I don't just go parking in cars with any old boy!”

Steve dissolves into laughter, pulling Eddie close by his belt loops and resting his forehead on his shoulder until the laughter subsides. Eddie runs his hands through Steve's hair aimlessly, playing with the strands, and shit, Lucas needs to look away, but he just can't.

“It looks good on you,” Steve says, so low that Lucas can barely make it out. He raises his head from Eddie's shoulder, leans in close so their foreheads are pressed together.

“Would you be mad if I added a few patches?”

“You can add patches if I can fix up the rips in your jacket.”

Eddie frowns. “Hey, I earned those rips.”

“And I earned my letterman.”

Eddie hums. “You'd make a good housewife.”

“How's that?”

“Well, you like to sew.”

“It's a basic life skill!”

“That you often practice for fun. You do all the cooking, you look after the kids, you love to clean…”

Steve clicks his tongue. “Only one problem there, Munson.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. He's doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. “Oh really? What's that?”

Steve lightly grabs Eddie by the front of his jacket. “I'm not doing all that for a bum.” He pushes Eddie back a little just to pull him back in, knocking their foreheads together.

Eddie gives up on hiding his smile. “Oh, a bum?”

“That’s right. I need a man with a good job. Steady paycheck.”

“I provide.”

“You think I'm gonna raise children with a drug dealer?”

Eddie laughs, shakes his head, leans even closer to Steve, and—Okay, yeah, Lucas has gotta look away. He turns back to the pile of clothes he and Max have been sorting through.

Max is looking right at him, single eyebrow raised. Lucas’s stomach drops. “What?”

Max shrugs innocently, looking down to the stack of clothes in her lap like nothing happened. “Nothing. You like this?” She holds up a dark blue turtleneck sweater.

“Uh, for me or for you?”

“You, I can’t stand stuff around my neck like that.”

It does look soft. “I’ll try it.”

Steve apparently has an infinite abyss for a closet. Every time Lucas thinks Steve must have brought down the last of it, there’s another box, another armful of sweaters and t-shirts and polo shirts that Steve doesn’t need anymore even though they’re functionally indistinguishable from the stuff he wears every day. He’s got a lot of jackets, too, and Max has already claimed three for herself while Lucas has yet to snag one. Probably because he’s been distracted from their treasure hunt by… Well. He’s not sure what.

There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together.

Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.

Max has been more present lately. More herself. Honestly, if anything, she’s more herself than ever. Vecna gave her this… confidence, sort of. Sureness in herself. Like, she just has this aura now, like she’s been to hell and personally kicked the devil in the nuts, and even though he knows it’s because she did essentially go through hell and personally kick the devil in the nuts, Lucas still kind of loves it. It’s like he’s dating the actual Max Max, or Ripley from Alien.

And yet. Even though Max isn’t hiding anymore, even though they talk now, even though their relationship is objectively better than ever, sometimes Lucas is just a little bit sad.

—

Movie nights are becoming worryingly essential to Lucas's mental wellbeing.

It doesn't have much of anything to do with the movies. It's how he feels safe surrounded by all of his friends, how the darkness forms a blanket to block out the rest of the world. Everyone that matters is right there in the glow of the TV. He knows they're all safe.

Right now, half of them are asleep.

Erica conked out early. So did Robin, who's curled up into a little ball and snoring lightly against Steve. Steve is awake, but Eddie is asleep in his lap, Steve's arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Dustin is awake, but he keeps jerking his head suddenly, like he's trying to keep himself up, and Lucas figures it's just a matter of time before he's out, too.

Max is awake. She's lying on him, and Lucas knows from experience that his arm is going to fall asleep pretty soon if she doesn't move, but what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him? Maybe a guy who doesn't even like girls.

But he definitely likes girls. Like, that's not even remotely up for debate, and it's not some deep-seated repression thing, it's just the truth. He loves when Max lays on him, up until the point where his arm gets numb and tingly. So what gives? What's the problem?

Lucas closes his eyes. He tries to picture Max with short hair, although Eddie's hair is long, and El's is short, so maybe that doesn't mean anything. He imagines her with a sharper jaw, although Dustin's jawline is soft, and Nancy's is sharp, so that probably doesn't mean much either. He imagines a Max with broader shoulders, maybe an inch or so taller than him, a Max he has to lean up to kiss, a Max with more than just peach fuzz on her upper lip.

He's not particularly into it, but he's not repulsed, either. Franken-Max is still beautiful. Handsome. Lucas still loves him. But that's a bad example, probably, because he already has feelings for Max, and changing some superficial stuff doesn't change the feelings. Who's a hot guy celebrity? Max likes Ralph Macchio. When he thinks about Ralph Macchio, though, all Lucas really feels is jealousy, maybe a little bit of disdain. So he thinks of Han Solo. Lando Calrissian. Luke Skywalker. They aren't bad-looking, sure, but Lucas doesn't feel too strongly about any of them, appearance-wise. Maybe he just can't find guys in movies hot.

His mind drifts, as it often has lately, to Steve and Eddie. It's not the way they look that has Lucas obsessing over them. He knew Steve and Eddie both long before they were Steve-and-Eddie, and he never had this kind of fixation on either of them before. Well, sure, maybe he's spent some time looking at Steve's arms, but that was more of an athletic inspiration thing than anything else. What is it about the two of them together that's so fascinating?

So many little scenes are burned into Lucas's brain. Eddie holding the door for Steve, calling him sweetheart and babydoll and a thousand other little nicknames that make Lucas's face and ears go hot. Steve carrying Eddie piggyback through the rain because Eddie was wearing those ratty old Converse with the floppy sole and Steve was worried that if he stepped in a puddle he'd get frostbite or trench foot. The two of them sharing clothes, wearing each other's jackets. The way they move, how sometimes when the radio's on they'll dance, and first Eddie's the girl, and then Steve's the girl, and neither of them is actually a girl, and it doesn't even matter, it's all just whatever's fun in the moment, whatever makes them feel good, and holy shit. Oh, shit. Oh, God.

Lucas wants to fall asleep during movie night in Max's lap. He wants her to drape her jacket over his shoulders when he shivers. He wants her to put her arm around him, hold him like he's precious. He wants Max to want all of that, too.

His arm feels numb. If Lucas were a girl, or if Max were a boy, he'd ask if they could switch places. But he isn't, and she isn't, and what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him so he can use her as a pillow instead? Lucas isn't sure if there's a word for a guy like that. If there is, it probably isn't very nice.

So he lets his arm go numb. He tries not to look at Eddie, at the way he nuzzles into Steve's chest and Steve just holds him closer.

“Hey,” Max whispers in his ear. Lucas jerks a little in surprise and she huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”

“What?”

“You've been spacey lately,” she murmurs, “Usually you'd be trying to figure out the logistics of all the Muppet action.”

She's not wrong. Lucas is fascinated by how they make the Muppets ride bikes and stuff. There must be a lot of wires and people involved.

“Everyone's asleep,” Lucas whispers back, “Didn't want to talk. You know Erica hasn't been getting much sleep lately, didn't wanna mess it up.”

Max shifts, pulling Lucas' arm around her shoulders so she can snuggle into his side. It's a bit better, but now he's gotta endure the pins and needles phase.

“You're sweet.”

He can almost hear it, sweetheart like how Eddie says to Steve, but that isn't Max's style and it's silly of him to even think about it. It's not like he wants her to change. It's just nice to imagine a world where none of the gender shit really matters and they can be like Steve and Eddie, and Lucas can be held and feel safe because the real-life Ripley's got his back.

God, he's pathetic. Lucas sighs, flexing his arm to encourage that terrible tingling to run its course. He has an amazing girlfriend and he's whining about nothing. Well, whining to himself. In his head. It still counts. It's still total pussy behavior.

Lucas pulls Max closer, kisses the top of her head. He can feel her head turn to look up at him, but he keeps his gaze leveled at the TV, and she doesn't say anything. They're fine. He and Max are fine.

—

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Huh?”

Max turns her head sideways to take a bite out of her hot dog. It's cute. She always gets ketchup and mustard smeared on her nose if she just bites straight into it.

“It goes both ways,” she says, chewing, and it should be gross, but it's not, really, because it's Max. She finishes chewing and swallows before she opens her mouth again. “I'm your friend before I'm your girlfriend.”

“You got some…” Lucas picks up a napkin from the picnic table, leaning forward to wipe a smudge of ketchup off the corner of her mouth. He kisses her, quick, because he's there anyway, and she smiles into it before shoving him away.

“Nice try. You gonna answer me?”

“Answer what?”

Her smile fades. It's replaced by a look of concern that makes Lucas feel nauseous.

“You can talk to me. You know that. Right?”

"Right." Lucas takes a sip of his Coke, just for something to do with his hands.

“I'm not…” Max looks down, sighing before she meets his eyes again. “I'm doing better. I can… you don't have to be okay all the time, you know? You can tell me things. You can tell me anything.”

God, his chest aches. Lucas reaches out and takes her hand.

“I know,” he assures her. “I know.”

He hasn't seen Max look this deeply sad in a while. She looks down and lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, and his heart flutters.

“Okay,” she says. She lowers their hands, drops his, and picks up what's left of her hot dog.

As she tilts her head to the side and gets mustard on her cheek, Lucas gets the distinct impression that she doesn't believe him.

—

When did he start spending so much time around Steve and Eddie?

It sort of makes sense. He used to spend a small amount of time with Eddie, a moderate amount of time with Steve, and then they all went through some shit and bonded and Lucas's Eddie time got bumped up to moderate, and then Steve and Eddie became an annoyingly adorable package deal, and now Lucas can't escape them. He's a little pissed, honestly. Fuck them for being gay and in love and equal and shit. Ruining his life. Lucas has never really been the type to envy other people's happiness, and he feels like maybe Steve and Eddie are making him a worse person. Before, he always figured that if his friends are happy, then he's happy, and that's it.

Upon further reflection, though, it occurs to Lucas that perhaps he just never had friends with much of anything to envy.

“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Eddie states out of nowhere, and some small part of Lucas still expects Steve, with his jungle of chest hair and unreasonably large biceps and many years of womanizing, to shove Eddie away, to reject the sweet kiss Eddie presses to his cheek, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.

Lucas suddenly recalls the wild look in Steve's eye, the ferocity in his voice, the strength with which he batted the demodogs away back in the junkyard. It feels like so long ago.

Steve does sigh a little. When Eddie tries to move away, Steve tugs him to his side and kisses the mass of curls on his head. The vibe is kinda weird today. Steve seems… off. So does Eddie, but Eddie is so perpetually strange and erratic that Lucas could just be making shit up.

“Okay, okay,” Robin says, more to herself than anyone around her, “I think this is it? Yeah, this is…” She squints at the binder in her hand. “Okay, yeah!”

She hands over the impressively large binder to Steve and Eddie, who each hold one side so that it'll stay open and Robin can read her sheet music. Robin raises her trumpet to her lips. She pauses.

“Just remember, this is, like, totally unofficial, and I'm only playing one part, so it—”

Mike groans. “Oh my god, just play it.”

Nancy flicks his ear. He bats her hand away.

Robin waves Nancy off just before she delivers what looks like a devastating smack to the back of Mike's head. “No, he's—yeah, I'm gonna play it.”

She raises her trumpet, takes a deep breath, and then Lucas is hearing an incredibly loud rendition of the Star Wars theme reverberating through Mike's basement. It's honestly, like, really impressive. When Robin finishes, Lucas claps and whistles, and Mike says, "Holy shit, that was awesome," and Dustin and Nancy cheer too, and Robin's bashful smile warms Lucas's chest.

“Just imagine it with, like, a bunch of other trumpets and trombones and a tuba and some other horns and I think there's, like, piano and synthesizer and maybe a timpani too, but I think it sounds okay just with the trumpet. I mean, nowhere near as good, but you can, like, recognize it, you know?”

Robin's concert continues. This was supposed to be a big group study session, but Lucas doesn't mind the delay. Steve doesn't even need to study, he's just here because he's Robin's ride, so he'd probably say something if it was a problem. She plays Fly Me To The Moon and a few others that Lucas vaguely recognizes. Eventually, Robin tires, packing the trumpet away and condemning them all to hell.

“This shit sucks,” Dustin mutters, flipping a flashcard back and forth without looking at it.

Mike sighs his agreement.

Lucas shrugs. “At least we're not Eddie.”

All three of them glance over to where Nancy and Robin have been drilling Eddie for the past hour, only to find that he's nowhere to be seen.

“Huh. Guess he had enough.” Mike sounds jealous.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom,” Lucas says, “Do me a favor and kill me when I get back.”

“Kill yourself,” Mike says.

“Don't worry, I'll kill you,” Dustin says supportively, “I'm a real friend.”

“Thanks.”

Lucas leaps over the coffee table to avoid disturbing the pile of backpacks and textbooks on the floor. He takes the steps two at a time, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after an afternoon of sitting on Mike's couch. When he gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and he reaches for the handle but freezes when he hears a voice.

“...didn't mean it like that,” Eddie says.

Lucas puts his hand down, but he inches closer to the door, just shy of pressing his ear up against the wood.

“I know, I already said it's fine.” Steve sounds tired.

“But it's clearly not because you're upset.”

“I'll get over it. You had a point.”

“Well, yeah, but I was being a total dick about it.”

“You know I don't mind a dick with… wait. Wait, I meant… uh, I'm used to your… shit.”

“You're used to getting dick from me? Or… uh, you don't mind a dick when it's mine?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yes! Yeah, those. Ugh, you're a genius.”

“No,” Eddie whines, “Don't be nice to me right now, I feel evil.”

“Ed, it's literally fine. You're right, it doesn't matter if I look perfect every time I walk outside.”

“But you do, that was my point, you don't need to worry about—”

“Eddie. Let it go. It's fine. I'm fine.”

“Can I just… Okay, I know this morning it seemed like I was just being an asshole because you were making us late with your hair stuff, but can I just explain what I meant to say?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, go for it.”

“I just… I see you freaking out all the time about how you look, and what people think of you, and it's not that I think it's dumb, because I can understand wanting to feel confident and wanting people to accept you, but the thing is that you don't have to do that. You don't have to. You are the kindest, sexiest, most badass person I know, and that's not something you have to put on for other people, it's just who you are. So it drives me crazy to see you driving yourself crazy over who thinks you're a loser and who thinks you're a douchebag and all of that, because not only does it not matter at all what some random assholes think of you, but, like, when you're just yourself? When you're just being yourself, Steve, everyone falls in love with you, that's how I fell in love with you, and it breaks my fucking heart when you feel like you need to put on some kind of act or have perfect hair or whatever for people to like you, because you don't.”

Silence. Lucas waits, afraid that somehow they realized he was listening, but then Steve speaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes immediately. “Yeah, I hadn't mentioned?”

“Mm, no, no, I think I'd remember if you—”

“You sure? You forget things a lot, you know—”

“Oh, shut up, I love you.”

“Ardently?”

“If that means a whole lot.”

“More or less. Means passionately. It's, uh…” Lucas can hear the embarrassment in Eddie's voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie embarrassed before. “It's from Pride and Prejudice.”

Steve laughs. “God, I love you. Then yes, Eddie Munson, I love you ardently.”

“And I you, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, with a tinge of that regality he uses for upper-crust NPCs, but it sounds sincere at the same time, nothing about it even remotely artificial. “I love and admire you ardently.”

Lucas backs away from the door. His head feels kinda… buzzy, as he walks to the upstairs bathroom. He shouldn't have been listening in. That was a private moment, seemingly an important one, but Lucas has terrible impulse control lately and he has that feeling again, that one like he's reaching up for something that's barely out of reach, his fingers brushing it when he jumps, but he just can't quite jump high enough to get his hand around it and bring it down to his level.

When he gets back downstairs after his overly long bathroom break, he says he's feeling sick and heads home early. Steve seems concerned, but even as he asks if Lucas needs anything, he has this air about him, like he'd float right off the ground if his shoes weren't weighing him down. It's been a long time since Lucas felt like that.

He goes home. He switches out his jeans for sweatpants. He lays in bed, he stares at the ceiling, and he wonders.

Steve has kind of been, like, the pinnacle of being a man to Lucas these past few years. He's cool. He's strong. He's brave. He always goes in first, always comes out last, always puts himself between the people he loves and the source of danger, and Lucas wants to be like that. He's always tried to be a good friend, to listen and empathize and help when he could, but once the world shifted and suddenly bullies weren't the biggest threat in everyone's lives, he was left reeling.

He can still remember fumbling with his wrist rocket, shooting rocks at the Demogorgon because there was nothing else he could do, and he remembers the dawning realization that he was going to fail, and that his friends were going to die, and that it was going to be because he wasn't strong enough.

Steve fought off the Demogorgon.

He had a bat, yeah, and a lot more height and muscle than Lucas, but still. He did it. And if he could do it, then maybe so could Lucas one day, if he just kept working out, kept practicing with his wrist rocket and watching The Karate Kid. In retrospect, Lucas's logic wasn't great, but he was in middle school, so whatever. He's gotten a lot smarter since then. The wrist rocket is more useful for distraction than outright combat, and karate moves aren't really that helpful in a fistfight.

Steve was just… always solid. He always bounced back. He could take the worst beating Lucas had ever seen and then get up and save the world, and he was always okay at the end of the day, always Steve underneath no matter how bloody and bruised he was on the outside.

Lucas has never been hurt like that, but he's still had nightmares for about four years now. They never really go away. They aren't constant, but every time he thinks maybe he's kicked it, they come right back and leave him panting, sweaty, trembling with the lamp on at three in the morning because he needs to have a light or else he won't know that something's coming. He worries about not being strong enough. He worries about not being enough in general.

According to Eddie, all this time, Steve's been worrying too. Worrying what people think of him. Trying to earn his keep and be what everyone else wants him to be. Showing up late sometimes not because he was too cool to care about being on time, but because he was trying to make sure he looked perfect before going out in public. Eddie wasn't just complimenting him out of the blue earlier for no reason, he was trying to reassure him, comfort him, because Steve Harrington has insecurities. It should have been common sense, but the knowledge hits him like a firework to the face, lighting everything up and leaving Lucas disoriented in its wake. What else has he been missing?

When Steve and Eddie started dating, they didn't, like, announce it or anything. They just didn't hide it, and eventually everyone got the memo, and Lucas is still deeply ashamed of the fact that he was one of the last to realize. It was less about the fact that Steve was dating a man and more about the fact that Steve was letting a man stroke his hair and put a leather jacket on his shoulders and call him dollface, like, seriously. Lucas thought it was a joke. In his defense, he thinks a lot of Eddie's little nicknames are jokes, but there's also something painfully earnest about them that he recognizes now, like each one is a little I love you, and it had been hard for Lucas to see Steve as somebody who wanted that, as someone who needed reassurance and affection and wanted to be treated with care.

Maybe Steve has nightmares too. Maybe even muscles and a nail bat aren't enough to keep the demons at bay. Maybe if Lucas stopped hiding the fact that he needs reassurance and affection and sometimes he wants to be treated with care, maybe if he talked to Max… But Max has had to deal with so much worse. It wouldn't be fair to just dump all of his issues on her, too.

God, she'd be mad if he said that out loud. Lucas can almost hear her voice, saying something like, don't decide for me what I can and can't handle, and he smiles, alone in his room staring up at the ceiling, because he's been a little bit of an idiot.

If even Ripley can need some support now and then, why can't he?

—

“You seem lighter.”

“Hm?”

Max nudges his leg with her own. “That thing you've been weird about all month. You figure it out?”

Nobody is paying attention to them, sitting on the floor in front of Mike's couch side by side. The others are all debating something to do with DnD, he thinks, but he hasn't really been paying attention. Max rented The Karate Kid, and the two of them have been focused on the movie while everyone else got distracted.

“I think so,” Lucas says, and takes a chance. He leans over, resting his head on Max's shoulder, and immediately her arm comes up to wrap around him.

“And you're not gonna dump me?”

Lucas sits up to look at Max incredulously. “What? Why would I dump you?”

She looks embarrassed. She leans in and lowers her voice. “Okay, don't be, like, offended, and this might make me sound stupid, but I noticed you've been looking at Steve and Eddie a lot lately.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, and Max laughs.

“So, you’re not…”

“No.”

“That’s good.” Her eyes widen a little bit as soon as the words leave her mouth. “Uh, I mean, that’s good for me as your girlfriend, not, like, in general. And I mean, obviously you could like guys and still like me, but, you know, you seemed really deep in thought, so…”

Lucas laughs. “Wait, so you thought I was, like, having a sexuality crisis, and you didn’t…”

“I didn’t want to push you on it,” she shrugs, “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But then you just seemed like you were getting more upset about it, and you were doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t have feelings—”

“What? I don’t—”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”

“...Maybe.” Lucas sighs. “I kind of was. But that wasn’t… it wasn’t about, like, guys. Trust me, I tried, and the closest I got to being into a dude was you.”

Max’s face scrunches up. “Me?”

“It’s… listen, I was going through a lot of hypotheticals!”

She giggles. “And one of them was me as a guy? Was I hot?”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, I wasn’t not into you.”

“High praise.”

“No, it was…” Lucas trails off, unsure of how to say it. He turns back to the TV and lowers his head to Max’s shoulder again. She lets him, wrapping her arm around him, and actually, how did Lucas ever think this would be wrong? It’s Max. It’s only Max.

“I wanted this,” he mumbles.

“This?”

He grabs her hand where it rests on his arm. “Yeah. You know, they always… like, I just wanted you to hold me.”

“Lucas,” Max says, her voice uncharacteristically tender.

“I’m not saying I wanna be all gross like them, but… I don’t know.”

“...Could I give you my jacket sometimes?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Lucas says, and Max laughs.

“You don’t even know how many times I’ve wanted to give you my coat because you never learn—”

“I learn!”

“No, you dress for fashion instead of function and then you freeze your ass off!”

Lucas laughs too, turning to bury his face in Max’s dark blue jacket, one of the ones she snagged from Steve, and she tugs him closer until he’s practically sitting in her lap. He feels light, like he might float away if she wasn’t holding on to him. But she is. She’s holding him, and she’s laughing, and none of their friends seem to have noticed anything different. It’s just Max, and Lucas, and they’re better than ever.

—

Lucas holds the door for Max, letting her enter Family Video ahead of him. Steve and Robin are at the counter, Robin gesturing wildly as usual. Steve raises a hand, waving as Lucas and Max approach. “Hey, nice jacket, Sinclair. Is that one mine?”

“It’s mine now,” Max says, wrapping an arm about Lucas’s waist and pulling him into her side. “He only wore a t-shirt even though it’s freezing out because he needed everyone to see his arms.”

He rests his arm over her shoulders. “I don’t need to bring a jacket, I have you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know, one of these days I’m not gonna take pity on you and I’m gonna let you freeze to death.”

Lucas hadn’t even been cold when Max took off her jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She had just done it out of the blue, stepped back, grinned, and said he looked good.

Robin sighs. “Ugh, you two are adorable. See, Steve, this is what I’m talking about!”

“And I’m telling you, all you have to do is have a conversation like a grown-up!”

“But it’s scary,” Robin whines, leaning her forehead against Steve’s chest and groaning. He pats her head comfortingly.

“I know. Max, I got your stuff on hold right over there.” Steve nods at a small stack of tapes on the counter. “Already checked them out for you.”

“You had stuff on hold?”

Max had spontaneously decided she wanted to have a home movie night instead of going to the theater, and Lucas had assumed it was just because she didn’t feel like going out.

She pulls him over the counter, and Lucas sees all three Star Wars movies in a neat pile.

“Surprise!”

Max isn’t that into Star Wars. She likes watching horror movies on date night, and she hates sitting through more than one movie at a time, but here she is with three space operas and a tentative smile on her face, and Lucas can’t help it.

“I love you.”

Max raises her eyebrows before dissolving into laughter. “That’s it? This is the moment?”

“Yes, shut up!”

She does not shut up. Max continues laughing. “Really? Because I rented Star Wars?”

“Because you know me.” Lucas grins. “You love me.”

“Well, yeah,” Max says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’d said that the sky is blue or that El’s a superhero.

Lucas hears a high-pitched squeal, and he turns to find Steve with a hand clamped over Robin’s mouth. Her eyes are wide and excited.

“Go have your little date before she explodes,” he says, waving them off.

“Thanks, Steve.” Max takes the tapes and turns to the door. Lucas jogs ahead to open it for her.

As Lucas follows her outside, part of him feels like he might just float off the asphalt right into the clouds, but he doesn’t worry about it. There’s no need. Max is right there, and he’s wrapped in her jacket, and she’s taking his hand for the short walk from the store to their bikes. No, Lucas won’t float away.

Max will keep him tethered.

[novaauster]

“Did you break Kevin’s hand?” Thea doesn’t know what complete failure of survival instincts happened, to make her bring the topic up. Renee would call it God, but Renee is insane.

Riko smiles, a sort of hand-in-the-cookie-jar expression. Oh no, you caught me. “I would do it again,” he says.

Bizarrely, Thea is reminded of one of her brother’s many school plays. Julius Caesar, because her paychecks went straight to Vicky’s art school tuition and any art school with a reputation pulls out the Shakespeare every once in a while. It had disturbed her to watch the Senators, each more corrupt and power-hungry than the next, conspire against their King. None of them wanted justice. They all wanted to take his place, and what was worse was how they were played by teenagers. A royal court is no place for you, she’d thought as the four-hundred-year-old lines were spoken solemnly by squeaky young voices. 

Vicky was assigned to play Marc Antony. The plain-talking liar, the one who speaks at the funeral. I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.

And this is the line that Thea speaks: “You all did love him once.”

edit: full version can be found here! updates twice a week, this scene in particular will be in chapter ten

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Drawn to you | Pt. 4

(A/N) This one's a bit shorter, but I hope you like it! Also, thank you so much for 2500 Followers!!! Aaaahhhh I love all of you so much!

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: flashback to life on earth, sexism

Synopsis: Your life back on Earth.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Earth - 1920

“You’re late.”

You raised your head to look into the glaring eyes of your boss. The fat, old man regarded you with a scowl before turning around and stomping towards his office.

“I-I’m sorry Sir. The bus was full, so I had to wait for the next one, and-”

He turned to face you again, his face red with anger.

“I don’t care! You are paid to be here on time! The next time you’re late, I’ll cut it from your paycheck, understood?”

You frantically nodded while holding your breath. Pointing out that you were actually twenty minutes early and just ten minutes late from your usual thirty minutes early, would just enrage the man even more.

With another huff, the man walked into his office and slammed the door, making you jump at the sudden, loud noise. You sighed and quietly made your way to your workstation, where you sat up for the day. You smiled at your colleagues that passed and led pleasant small talk with the ones that stopped for a chat. But the whole day went by without you seeing your favorite person even once.

Not that he had to stop by or anything, but he sometimes did and those were always the best moments of the day. He held such a passion for this job, it always infected you, made you hold on to the dream of one day being a host yourself.

But in your heart, you knew that that dream was foolish. A woman? A radio host? That would never happen. If you were lucky, maybe you could become the secretary, but your voice would never be aired live. At least not in this century.

With a sigh, you got to work. You quickly wrote up the weather report for the day, before handing it over to your boss, who would give the final go. After that you filed through letters and parcels, delivering them to where they needed to go.

You were basically done with your day’s work and it wasn’t even time for lunch. So, you decided to work on your dream some more. Whenever you had free time, you’d type out what you would do if you were the host. Corny jokes and funny advertisements. You’d make a list of the songs you’d play and what you’d be talking about.

Your shoulders slumped as you finished your dream program, the realization that that would never happen, catching up to you. Sometimes you wondered if playing into the dream made reality harder to bear. You still continued your wishful thinking, lost in a dream where you were calling the shots and where you would yell at fat, old men.

Two hands suddenly covering your eyes pulled you back to reality and a grin took over your lips.

“Guess who?”

You chuckled, trying to think of a witty response.

“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”

The laugh that escaped the man behind you made your heart race and butterflies erupt in your belly.

“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”

You shook your head with a smile and the hands lowered until they rested on your shoulders. With a wide grin, you spun in your chair, to come face to face with your favorite person.

“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”

You rolled your eyes as he guided your right hand to his lips, before pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”

The usually smiling host’s expression hardened when you mentioned the fat, old man. He glared in the direction of his office. If looks could kill, that man would be dead.

“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”

With wide eyes, you raised your hands against the man’s mouth to shush him.

“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”

He turned back to you with his signature smile.

“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and quickly lowered your head, a coy smile playing on your lips. Your reaction caused the man to chuckle, before carefully ruffling through your hair. A complaint crossed your lips at his action and he stopped with a playful laugh, before helping you to fix your hair.

“So, what’s on your agenda today?”

You grabbed the pieces of paper and went through the different points you had written up, ending on the big story you’d talk about, were you in any kind of position to.

“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”

The man nodded thoughtfully, taking notes in his head. He was about to say something when his name was called from the other end of the office space.

“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”

He was already walking away, still facing you.

“I always do.”

He grinned, before turning around and running to where he was being summoned, leaving you with a soft smile and a racing heart.

By the time you had to clock out, you were sure you were dying of boredom. It was bad enough that you had considered asking for more work, but thankfully you made it through the day without. You quickly put on your gloves and hat, before you left the radio station and made your way home.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you hurried to the old radio in your kitchen and turned it on, just in time to hear him introducing himself.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the evening show. I’m your host, as usual, Alastor!”

Hell - now

“Why don’t you remember me?”

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @dasimp777 @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a second part to our rec list of domestic fics. In case you missed it, you can find the first part here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog the post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) To Make a Home Where There Is None | Mature | 3,907 words

Harry shows up and doesn't want to leave. Louis doesn't mind too much.

2) Harmony | Explicit | 6,175 words

Alpha Harry and Omega Louis don’t have the most amicable relationship at work. When they get stuck together in an elevator, Harry scents Louis after nothing else works to bring him out of his panicked state. Their time trapped in the elevator together brings to light some misunderstandings, and maybe some feelings for each other, too.

3) Too Nervous to be Lovers | Mature | 6,445 words

Louis doesn't want to spend quarantine with Harry, his straight roommate, who doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

4) Oranges, Whipped Cream and Blueberries | Explicit | 9,135 words

Louis was an omega of a pure bloodline. He had known since he was merely eight years old that he was to be bonded with a high ranked alpha. Not the one of his choice, but the one deemed suitable for him by the elders. Little did he know that the alpha would be the leader of his pack; the greatest pack known to their kind.

5) I Glow Pink In The Night | Explicit | 12,128 words

“These are academic articles,” Harry argues lightly. He runs his hands up and down Louis’ smooth and tan legs, grinning when Louis purrs. “I just want to learn more about you. We’ve only been dating for a few months.” Louis bites down a smile, warmth filling his belly and a flush coloring his cheeks. Pulling his fluffy black tail around him, he picks off lint and flicks them onto the floor. “Well, then ask me.”

6) With The Certainty Of Tides | Mature | 13,980 words

“Love you,” Louis whispered in the dark. He didn’t know what time it was or where the light had gone, he knew that he was in Harry’s arms, basking in the afterglow of all their love and he’d be a fool to not tell Harry that. As if Harry didn’t know. “Love you,” was whispered back, as if Louis didn’t know. They confessed to each other as if it was their first time saying it, raw and painful, and listened to it the very same way, but they knew those words to be the only ones true. With all the certainty of the tides, with all the light from the sun, with all the steady beats of their hearts, they were deftly in love, in secret and so loudly. They were brave and fearless and strong and hopelessly devoted in every sense of their breaths. “We made it, baby,” Harry mumbled, bringing their lips into a final kiss, sweet and soft and the color of pink. They already knew that, didn’t fight tooth and nail and argued through every petty year and bleed their hearts into the words they sang and on their skin for them to have not made it home. They were home.

7) Hungry Heart | Explicit | 16,100 words

"So you're using me and my kitchen for a bigger paycheck?" Harry asks. "What do I get out of it?" "What do you-" Louis parrots in disbelief. "I get a job that doesn't make me work ten hour shifts just to barely pay my rent while you get three meals a day cooked for you." "So, what, you're like some glorified housewife?" Housewife, personal chef, Louis doesn't care. Contract's signed and done; T's crossed and I's dotted. Louis will wear an apron and twirl his hair all pretty if that's what he wants. Even if the job feels more like some drawn out jail sentence, Louis hopes this isn't going to be a long summer.

8) Three’s A Crowd, Four’s A Party | Mature | 16,569 words

“Morgan, sweetie, mommy and daddy have something we want to talk to you about.” The little girl looks at them confused, having no idea what’s about to happen. “First I want to tell you that we love you very much and nothing will ever change that, okay?” “I love you too!” Louis smiles. “What we wanted to talk to you about is that there’s going to be some changes around here soon.” “Why?” “Because mommy’s having a baby.”

9) Hijack My Heart | Explicit | 18,105 words

Harry Styles loved challenges. What was life without challenges? he asked himself at 17 when he failed his A levels and had to switch schools. Challenges made life interesting, he said at 20 when he moved to New York, all alone, away from his friends and family. Challenges are what make life worth living, he thought at 25 when the nurse handed him the most beautiful baby girl on the planet, and asked him to give her a name. Challenges suck, he thought at 25 and a half, when he held a wailing baby in his arms on the 6.00 AM flight to London, from New York.

10) Tennis Court | Explicit | 18,285 words

Louis and Harry are co-workers and Louis is sure Harry hates him because he always refuses to help him with his heats.

11) What Happens In Vegas...Doesn't Stay In Vegas | Explicit | 21,976 words

What should have been a fun one-night stand in Vegas turns into something a lot more complicated. Because getting married is easy but getting unmarried... not so much.

12) True Blue | Explicit | 23,409 words

Louis and Harry are the most codependent couple. Harry's life purpose is to take care of his omega & Louis' is to be doted on. After a few too many jabs from their friends and coworkers, Louis is determined to show Harry that he's capable of surviving on his own while Harry is certain that Louis is going to break up with him at any moment.

13) My End And My Beginning | Explicit | 24,749 words

When Louis starts as an intern at a new company, he becomes particularly fond of the boss’ five children. And maybe the boss himself as well.

14) Yours To Lose | Mature | 25,742 words

Louis always gets distracted with his mummy duty and he eventually catches Harry's attention.

15) Confections Of The Heart | Explicit | 25,877 words

Louis is a single mom, Harry is a pastry chef, and Oliver just wants his mom to be happy. With a teaspoon of love and a sprinkle of fate, the three might just find a home in each other.

16) Through Chaos As It Swirls, It’s Us Against The World | Explicit | 31,728 words

Corporal Styles is sent on a suicidal mission, at his hands the lives of hundreds of men that are going straight into a trap. He ends up finding Louis, the french and most beautiful boy he has ever seen, and a baby, in a basement of a dead city.

17) Deleted Scenes | Explicit | 33,623 words

Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

18) A Common Place Affliction | Explicit | 36,508 words

“You should go home,” Louis muses, and Harry can feel the omega crouch down to become eye level with Harry, poking his cheek with a dainty finger. Harry lifts his arm, taking a peek at Louis’ face. Louis looks tired, he notes, but not exhausted, and there’s an eyelash stuck to his cheek. Harry doesn’t hesitate to lazily reach out and thumb over his cheek. “Can’t,” Harry croaks, blindly twisting his hand around to grab at Louis’ offending finger and just holding it. “C’mere. Take a nap with me,” he asks after a beat, opening an eye to look at Louis. Louis raises an eyebrow. “M’not going to nap with you in the middle of the ER, H.” Sighing, Harry squeezes the young nurse’s finger. “Nobody cares.” He knows they do; they’ll annoy nurses and probably worry patients when they catch sight of a nurse and surgeon sleeping on the job. Let alone in the middle of the emergency ward hallway. Harry can hear the complaints now: ‘these are the people we’re supposed to trust with our lives?’

19) All This Devotion | Explicit | 38,047 words

Louis is Harry’s work wife. The already blurry lines of their friendship are smudged further when they get caught up in a web of lies.

20) Kiss Me On The Mouth And Set Me Free (But Please Don’t Bite) | Mature | 42,036 words

Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.

21) A Silent Whisper (That's Left Unsaid) | Explicit | 50,848 words

Note: This fic is locked and can be only be read by AO3 users.

A Fake Relationship & Exes to Lovers AU ft a failed proposal ten years ago, an oblivious Harry, an overworked Louis, Zayn as the protective best friend, a meddling aunt and a lot of talks about weddings and rings.

22) Forgive The Urgency, But Hurry Up And Wait | Explicit | 53,701 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic. We'd suggest reading that one first.

Louis' going to do better. He’s going to have all of the uncomfortable conversations and the relationship talks. He’s going to make himself be a good boyfriend. And he’s got absolutely no idea where to start.

23) Strawberries & Cigarettes | Explicit | 76,633 words

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

24) Saving Symphony Hall | Explicit | 124,766 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic. We'd suggest reading that one first. This fic is locked and can be only be read by AO3 users.

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.” “Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.” “Wait, what?” Zayn asked. “Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,” “What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand. “I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.” “That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

25) Love Me Until The End | Explicit | 207,311 words

AU where Louis, an Omega, is the head nurse of the hospital in charge of running the nursing staff. Harry, an Alpha, is a highly respected surgeon working at the same hospital. They also happen to fall in love.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My Sweetheart: Part 1

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You purchase a vintage sweetheart bracelet from an antique store and with it, comes the spirit of the woman who owned it. Through her, you go on an interesting journey to find out what happened to her old lover.

A/N: I’m obsessed with sweetheart bracelets and I hope to purchase one some day. This idea came to mine while I was looking at some online. Also, look, I’m writing for Bucky again! uuuhhh i guess this is a mini series.

You'd been eyeing the bracelet for a month now. Ever since you came across the little antique shop in Brooklyn, you've been coming twice a week just to make sure the bracelet was still there. It was a gold stretch bracelet. In the middle, the charm was heart shaped and had a cute but simple design of a flower etched into it. It was $150 and you're somewhat surprised it doesn't cost more. Looks like it's in great condition, looks practically brand new. Nonetheless, you needed to save up for it. Living in New York wasn't cheap.

After you visited the shop for the fourth time in a row, the shop owner, Stan, said he'd keep it on hold for you since he knows you plan to buy it.

"No rush, sweetheart. I know you're good for it."

"How? You barely know me?" you can't help but ask the old man.

He shrugs, "I just know."

"Well thank you, so much. I really appreciate it. I get paid again in two weeks. After I pay bills, I should have enough for it."

He gives you a wave, "I'll see you in two weeks then."

___________________

Once your paycheck was deposited, you paid your bills in an instant. With the rest, you practically skipped to Brooklyn, ready to buy the bracelet.

You enter the store with a big smile towards Stan, "I'm ready."

He claps his hands together, "Congrats!" he goes to the back and brings out the bracelet. You gently pick it up and slide it over your wrist. It fits perfectly. It's not heavy. It's just...perfect.

You pay Stan in cash and you give the old man a hug, "Seriously, thank you so much for holding this for me. I just-I don't know what it is about this bracelet. It's so beautiful, like it was calling me."

"Probably because it was calling you. It's special, just like you."

You give him a wave as you exit the store. You watch your new bracelet gleaming in the New York sun. It's gorgeous.

_______________

At the end of the day, you get ready for bed. You take off the sweetheart bracelet and place it on your nightstand. You slip into bed and as your head hits the pillow, the sink in your bathroom turns on.

You shoot up, turning to the bathroom with wide eyes. You turn on the light and see your bathroom door wide open. You grab the pocket knife you have on your night stand, armed and ready in case an intruder some how snuck into your apartment without you noticing.

Once you approach your bathroom, you turn on your light and see no one. You look down at your sink and twist the handle that controls running water. The water stops for a millisecond before it's on again.

"What the-" you turn it off again and it turns on again. You leave it on, watching in confusion and slight fear. As the water grows hotter, steam starts to form.

That's when you jump back, wide eyed and suddenly frozen.

FIND JAMIE.

"Okay. Um, I don't know who Jamie is, whoever you are. But can I know who you are?"

DOT.

"Dot who?"

You wait for the steam from the water to cover the message. A minute goes by and then another, "Uh, hello? Dot?" You slowly reach out for the sink handle, turning the water off. It stays off.

You slowly shake your head, "I must be really sleepy," you head back to your bed. After turning off the light, you pull the covers over your head and fall asleep.

When you wake up in the morning, you're a little groggy, but well rested. You look towards your bathroom and suddenly remember the events before you went to sleep.

Surely, that was all just a dream right? Just a really weird dream.

You shake your head and slip the bracelet onto your wrist, proceeding to get ready.

_________________

"It's not a ring..yet, anyways," he smiles as his girl admires the bracelet on her wrist, a sign of his love and adoration for her.

"It's so beautiful," she looks up from the bracelet, "You really shouldn't have spent your money on me like this, Jamie."

He shrugs, "I don't care. I just...I wanted to give you something to remember me by. Just in case, you know?"

She shakes her head at what he was insinuating, "You're coming back to me. I'll write to you...I'll wait for you."

"I wouldn't be mad if you don't though," he gives her an understanding look.

She shakes her head again, "I'm waiting for you, Jamie. You don't have to worry."

"I love you, Dolores Millard."

"I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You come back to me, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he mumbles as he seals his promise with a kiss.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

The Exchange

Summary: Being the new girl in town you were desperate for work but little did you know what that work would entail. Your boss Neil ensures that you’d be given a paycheck as long as you work for it.

warnings : NONCON, abuse of authority, degradation, humiliation, boss!Neil x employee!reader, smoking, hitting, wedgies

Requested

There you were standing in that tight black dress, your hair flowing freely as you stood at the register helping a guest. The fabric was tight around your hips, plumping your ass right out like it was going to burst from the seams. Neil stayed just around the corner staring intently but not trying to make it obvious to the customer until he decided for himself you needed some assistance.

“Sir, you’re nearly a week past your return date I-“ The feeling of Neil’s hands grazing over your thighs startled you, but you played it off like nothing happened as this was a normal occurrence. The reason you hadn’t left was because you needed the money, you were just a girl trying to make ends meet and Neil would hold that over your head whenever you mentioned his advances made you uncomfortable. The touching was all that had happened and you had conditioned yourself, convinced yourself that a little touching was nothing compared to being homeless on the streets, whether you liked it or not. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t be making any money, and he would often let you keep any tips just to keep you around, his little primadonna. You cleared your throat and continued on explaining the policy while Neil made side comments here and there to get this guy out of there quicker, eventually telling him he’d cut his bill in half.

“Have a great day, hope to see you soon!” You quivered, eyebrows furrowing together in discomfort when his finger tips trailed slowly up underneath your dress gripping the soft, jello like skin of your asscheeks, making you pull away from him.

“You know you shouldn’t be dressing like a whore, most managers would send you home, even fire you for walking in like that.” You were taken aback by his words and scoffed in disgust, refusing to make his day and look at him by retrieving the returned movies to put them back in your place.

He’d hate to see you leave from his proximity but he loved to watch you walk away, his eyebrows raising with each step of your feet as your hips swayed.

Glancing around the store, he had purposely only scheduled himself and you as other employees wouldn’t question it as it was a monday, and mondays were slow.

When he didn’t see a customer in sight and noticed you were too busy being his good little employee, paying close attention to the alphabetical order he nonchalantly began to whistle as he swayed his way to the door, locking it and flipping the sign over to closed.

The sound of his feet approaching made you wince in fear of what he had in store, trying to quietly inch away around the corner to another aisle but he was quicker than you.

“Ah-ah.” His hand wrapped around your forearm in a tight, menacing grip that was sure to leave a bruise.

“Neil, I can’t stay tonight. I have to get home I-I have laundry, dinner and- and a date…” You shouldn’t have been concerned to tell him that, or even had to of mentioned it to your boss. He noticed the hesitation in your voice and his crystal blue eyes locked with yours, noticing the submissiveness and cowardliness in your eyes.

His lips turned into a grin as he held back a laugh, not releasing your arm.

“You? You have a date? With who? You just moved here and no ones going to want a woman who dresses like that for work. If anything I’d say you dressed like that to get a reaction out of me and now you’re getting one.” Before you could react, he reached for you other arm, bending them behind your back as he forcefully guided you, and pushed you over the back of the orange sofa that was old and filthy.

“Hate to ruin your plans sweetheart but the only date you have is with me.” The sound of his belt unbuckling forced anxiety to rise within you, realizing what was about to happen.

“No don’t please! Please I’ll- I’ll work over time, I’ll- I’ll do your- your paperwork, the taxes. All of it! Just let me go, please Neil.”

“Oh bribing your boss now are you?” The enjoyment in his voice made your stomach twist in knots while tears brimmed at your eyes when you felt his hands push up your dress, making you feel exposed and completely at his will.

A desperate cry poured out from your lungs when you felt his length up against your most private area. It felt hefty, and stiff against your hole, there was no getting through to him.

His hand swung back, and slapped harshly against your ass, forcing the tears out, streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re so fucking desperate for money you’ll just let me do whatever I please to you, are you really that much different from a prostitute on the street? I mean c’mon Y/N. I know your new to the area but allowing your boss to grab at you all day and not even make an effort for me to stop? Sounds pretty desperate to me.” The sight of you bent over, nothing but the thin fabric of your underwear covering your most sacred areas made his cock twitch against you.

His fingers delicately slid underneath those pink ribboned satin panties, and you felt his finger tip graze over your back entrance, making your thighs attempt to clench together as your body pushed forward trying to escape his touch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His free hand gripped your strands of hair, forcefully yanking your head back to where you could feel his lips just ever so slightly touching your ear.

“Please- please don’t hurt me.” The desperation and pleading was like music to his ears.

When his lips began to kiss the top of your ear lobe, he slid his tongue on the back of your, causing your face to scrunch together in disgust and discomfort.

“We play by my rules, and that little cunt of yours is going to accept my cock. Consider it your payment for me keeping you as my employee.” He threw your head back down, pulling your underwear tightly up just barely lifting your feet off of the ground.

“Hmm. I wonder if I pull hard enough it will break.” He stretched it up higher, causing a burning sensation to take over your pussy and ride up your ass. You felt embarrassed, completely helpless, you knew you could fight him but you needed a paycheck. 

Lifting it once more your underwear was now hanging by a very thin thread and he began to bounce you up and down on the couch until it snapped in half revealing your reddened, swollen lips to him.

“Wow, that was better quality fabric then I’d expect for a woman who makes only ten an hour, plus tips if you’re good occasionally.”  Your eyes burned from the physical pain your pussy was feeling and the reddened skin around your asshole.

He aligned his head with your entrance and to his surprise you were already practically dripping, you could feel warmth sliding down the inside of your thigh, your cheeks turning red from embarrassment that it only took fabric to make you wet.

“God, that’s all huh? You are soaking, aren’t you my sweet little fuck toy.” He slapped your pussy before pushing two fingers inside of you without any warning. His movements were aggressive as he was not gentle to start with, his fingers drilling in and out of you while you began to practically drool on the couch, trying to resist from moaning.

It was painful yes but the thickness of his fingers made it feel pleasurable and you hated it.

You screamed out to mask any pleasure, grunting loudly against the couch.

Neil knew what he was doing, making you hate your own body for getting any sort of pleasure from him.

When he decided you had enough he pulled out his cock that was leaking of precum, tapping it ferociously against your dripping hole.

“Can’t wait to see that needy pussy stretched out by my cock. It’s kind of a turn isn’t it? How much you’ll do for your job, to keep me happy at any extent?” You whimpered, as the pain began to come back, and the weight of his cock was to show how much more you’d be in but he was right, if he was wrong you would’ve spoke up.

The bills added up and you were beginning to regret ever thinking moving away from home was a good idea now that you were at the mercy of Neil Lewis.

You gasped loudly when he plunged in your divine succulency at the sudden intrusion.

He watched as you took him mercifully, his cock disappearing within you, widening your hole beyond an extent you believed possible.

“Oh fuck, didn’t expect a whore to be so tight, think we might have to do this another way.” He pushed your weak body over, onto the couch before laying beneath you, grabbing your wrists and forcing you on top.

“Oh, is little broke bitch gonna cry?” He mocked your misery, and in a swift movement yanked you forward before picking up your sore ass and dropping it right down on his dick in an instant.

You began to cry, biting your trembling lips while your nose sniffled. The make up you once had on smeared down your cheeks as the tears ruined all of it.

The length of his cock was unimaginable and the width didn’t help with the stinging pain like you were being torn a part from within.

“Ride me, go on. You want that money don’t you? Or I could just withhold your paycheck until your behind on rent.” You batted your watery eyes up at him, your cheeks heating up, turning rosy red as you did what he said.

Gliding up and back down to slow for Neil’s liking causing him to roll his eyes.

“Haven’t you rode a cock before, or are you too stupid to figure anything out?” When you began to whimper again he became fed up, growing impatient.

Taking matters into his own hands, he continued to hold your wrists, as he flew up into you with a hard thrust, sending blood rushing out on top of him.

He didn’t care, he drilled into you relentlessly, watching intently as your boobs bounced up and down faster than the speed of lightning, he couldn’t help but take enjoyment at how round and hardened your nipples had became.

“You like that don’t you? Like being used and being my own little private slave.” Your body was too weak to fight back, the constant move of the head of his dick brushing with each movement against your most sensitive sweet spot, you were in crumbles.

Your ass cheeks were bouncing off of his thighs, you legs quivering on top of him.

He was biting his lip in satisfaction at the sight of you crying, knowing damn well you felt disgusting for allowing him to do this just for a paycheck.

Your thoughts began to spiral as your inner walls clenched against his cock, shame washing over you that your body would betray you like this.

He began to speak in between his groaning and moaning from your pussy soaking his throne, he could tell you were close.

“Look down I want to see you watch yourself get off on me, I want you to see me ruining that stretched out not so tight hole while you get off on it.”

Painfully you looked down watching him pound into your throbbing pussy, his balls acting like a cushion for you each time he bucked his hips up forcefully.

Your toes began to twitch and you wanted to close your eyes, you wanted to pretend you were anywhere but here being raped by your boss but you couldn’t. Not if you wanted your rent money.

Moans escaped from your parted lips, and you hated yourself when your hips began to move along with his movements just searching for the sweet release your body wanted so desperately bad.

“That’s my girl, c’mon ride me. Ride me for that money.” Your pace quickened and your moans became louder when that unexplainable, euphoric feeling rode through your entire being, your back slightly arching as you watched all of your orgasm stream down onto his cock.

The sight was like a scene out of a movie to Neil and he couldn’t hold back any longer. His seed oozed into your heat like a pool, coating your insides white.

“Maybe I should put us alone more often.” He chuckled darkly before pushing you off of him into the corner of the couch.

Some of his seed spilled out of you and you could feel and see the puddle forming on the cushion making you feel complete disgust and shame for yourself. What had you come to, what have you done?

Wrapping your arms around your legs you curled up into a ball and began to sob silently to yourself while Neil pulled his pants back up.

He excused himself for a moment and when he came back he had an envelope in his hand.

When you went to grab for it he pulled it back, making you angry and scared that you did this for nothing.

“I earned that money!” He sat down next to you, still keeping the envelope at a distance away.

“You earned half the money, if you want the rest and want to continue being payed you will attend my needs every weekday of the night until I get tired of your useless stupidity. Don’t you get it Y/N? You’re my property to use as I please. I know your landlord, he’s actually a close family friend of mine if you will.” That couldn’t be, he was lying he was trying to get you not to say anything, which you wouldn’t at the expense of having a place to live and money for food and gas and bills.

“He knows how I feel about you. Hell he even told me how easy you were. One word from me about any wrong move, say taking money from the store thinking you wouldn’t get caught, all I have to do is call him and you’ll be out on the streets. Who do you think he’ll believe. A friend he’s known from grade school, or some skank that can’t even take care of herself?” You were in disbelief and felt like you were at a crossroads. If someone had warned you about Neil Lewis before you moved here you never would have and you felt like you had no privacy, no nothing anymore.

You pondered in your head before you locked eyes with the man who had you at his fingertips in a death grip for life.

Taking in account how speechless you were, he knew what the answer would be.

“So tomorrow night then?” He had a shit eating grin plastered on his face, his blue eyes and the way he smirked made you sick but what choice did you have.

Nodding silently, he tossed you your clothes before throwing the check on the floor, waiting for you to crawl to your golden ticket.

“You can put the clothes on after you go get that piece of paper on your hands and knees, thanking me for being so generous. Give me a kiss.” You leaned in, placing your lips against him reluctantly. His tongue dove in, exploring every inch of your mouth before he bit down on your lip harshly, drawing a small amount of blood.

He tasted of arrogance and cigarettes, a volatile mixture.

He looked at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Thank you. Thank you for taking care of me Neil.” He nodded and eyed the envelope on the floor.

He relaxed back into the sofa, lighting a cigarette as  he watched you fall to the floor his hand mark on your ass cheek, crawling over to the envelope.

You’d always crawl back to him.

[jhilsara]

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 3

She’s standing outside the pub waiting for Hobie to pick her up. She’s bouncing on her feet in excitement as she looks down the street seeing his silhouette.

His hands are shoved in his vest pockets as a crooked smile crosses his face when he sees her.

“I take it you're ready then?” He asks looking her over with an amused expression. She's practically vibrating with joy. 

“Absolutely! I love this group, I didn’t even know they were in town.” She says smiling brightly at him.

Hobie’s eyes lazily look over her and she raises a brow. “What, is it there something on me?” She asks cocking her head.

“Nah, you just look good is all.” He says flicking a golden star on her dangling belt that’s attached to her skirt.  "Color compliments your skin." 

She gives a quick spin in her outfit, showing off her skirt and some glitter flies off of her. “Thanks, wanted an excuse to wear some fun colors!” She snickers and starts walking down the street. “C’mon I don’t wanna be late.”

Hobie just gives a chuckle as he shakes his head and walks beside her comfortably.

The small rock show is playing inside one of the shitty abandoned buildings on the streets of Old York. The place is practically falling apart but that’s half the charm of it. Many bands have played shows there for years and it’s mostly safe. Occasionally a brick will fall but it’s usually not around people. It's in a warehouse that's in some old industrial district, MJ's been there for a few other shows and has always had a great time. This show is probably the biggest crowd she's seen at this venue.

The two of them make their way in and shove through the sea of people. MJ is practically vibrating in excitement and Hobie’s just watching her joy. She can feel his stare but when she turns to look he's just giving her the softest smile. It blossoms a warmth in her chest.

When the band walks out and starts playing the crowd roars to life. The building may be cramped but it’s fun and has electricity in the air. The band had brought a fog machine and the lights were bold colors of flashing pinks, yellows, and purples and it flood her senses. It's hot and sweaty as she dances and pulls Hobie along. He’s more than happy to join her, meeting her beat for beat.

The tight crowd makes it a little muggy but she doesn't care. Her olive tan skin is coating in a thin layer of sweat and she's scream singing along to the lyrics. Her hands are on Hobie's shoulders as she jumps to the beat just enjoying the night. Hobie's hands are on her waist as he holds her in place. Making sure she doesn't slam into anyone.

The ground shakes from the crowd dancing and singing together, but that’s normal. MJ has her head thrown back in laughter and joy, just enjoying her night. The people, noises, and lights over stimulating her in the best way.

Then the building starts to wobble. In a way that’s not a part of the music. It makes MJ trip over her own feet, Hobie catches her easily and they both look at each other in concern. She turns to look around and other people seemed to be stumbling as well. Even the band had stuttered in their music. Hobie’s hands move to graze her arm when another quake shakes them. The band keeps going and the rest of the crowd seems unphased at the second tremor.

MJ’s about to suggest they leave, feeling a pit in the bottom of her stomach. She's suddenly on edge and feels a shiver run down her spine when something crashes into the old building, shaking its structure causing parts to collapse. Hobie pushes MJ away from him and before she can yell to warn him. She narrowly misses the pillar that falls between them. Screams of panic disorient her and she can’t see past the smoke and dust kicking up. More tremors shake the ground and the building comes falling down in chunks.

“Hobie!” She screams, coughing and trying to find a way around the rubble separating them.

“I’m alright! Get out of here, I can’t climb over this. I’ll find you!” He shouts back.

Her body is telling her to run but she feels dread fill her at the idea of running off, “I’m not leaving without you!” She yells back, looking up over the fallen architecture.

The loud atmosphere of screams and falling debris almost deafens her. She can hear that there’s something flying around above them. She briefly wonders if it’s Spider-Man.

“I’m not asking you Mariana, I’m telling you to get out!” He shouts back, his tone leaving no room for an argument.

MJ freezes at him using her full name and she finds herself nodding even if he can’t see it. “Fine! But if you’re not outside in less than ten minutes, I’m coming back for you!” she yells her voice firm and determined.

She can almost see him shaking his head at her, “Got it.” He shouts back.

MJ turns to find an exit, she tries to follow the small amount of people who are left scattering. There had been a few more tremors and something exploding to cause a fire to start on the edge of the building. The fire licks at the feet of the brick walls tempting to trap the remaining people inside.

She’s trying to follow the crowd but upon turning the corner she’s come face to face with the culprit of the damage. She almost trips over her own feet as she back peddles to hide behind a piece of fallen wall.

The Vulture stands before her, hunching in on himself as he looks around. His movements are shaky and sporadic. He looks like a creature from a horror film with the way he moves his body. Her heart is racing as she realizes she’s stuck where she is until he moves. His body blocking the only exit she can make out, the fire blazing behind her.

“Arson I can handle, ruining a good show, that’s a real criminal offense.” She hears jokingly from above.

She looks up to see Spider-Man landing behind the Vulture, shooting his webs out and pulls the massive bird closer to him for a punch. She looks on in awe for a moment. She’s never been so close to an actual event like this and she’s frozen just watching him.

“Ugh, course it’s you.” The Vulture groans swatting his claws and cutting the webs.  He flies up and shouts, “That wasn’t music, that was a public nuisance! Like you.”

The Vulture shakes his metal wings, shooting some of the sharp fake feathers at Spider-Man. Spider-Man easily dodges them, dancing around the projectiles. “Trying to kill people for the sake of your own personal music tastes feels a little…bitter? Petty? Dontcha think.” He says in a mocking tone. 

MJ sees Spider-Man look down at her. She knows she needs to move, but she’s just watching the two of them fight. Her eyes watch them and she looks to the exit, it’s still dangerous if she tries to run for it. The Vulture is blocking the only good exit near her and the last thing she wants to do is get caught and used as a hostage against Spider-Man. 

Spider-Man had been staring at her, he even nudges his head to the exit, but she shakes her head no. While he’s distracted the Vulture is able to attack knocking the spider down and rolling into the rubble.

Her eyes widen and she tries to not gasp. She knows he was begging her to run but she couldn’t. Now he’s laying on a broken wall unmoving.

She shuffles, trying to run so she can just find Hobie and get out. The Vulture encroaching on Spider-Man.

His body doesn’t move and it worries her. She sighs and curses under her breath, she doesn't debate for long before she’s looking for a heavy piece of debris. She tosses a few in her hand before she lands on one she’s comfortable with and looks over at the Vulture. His arm is raised toward the spider on the ground and she doesn’t think twice about chucking the heavy brick in her hand hitting the metal bird man directly in the head.

She ducks quickly and hides, holding her breath.

“Who’s there?!” the voice roars and echoes around her.

A shiver runs down her back but she tries to silently escape, hoping the smoke and dust will hide her. She just needs to give Spider-Man enough time. He had to be fine. He’s handled worse before.

“Who are you calling for, falling rocks? It’s almost like you knocked down a whole building.” A voice chuckles lightly from the distance.

She lets out a breath of relief and watches Spider-Man shoot webs and flinging the Vulture across the building. She uses her chance to escape sprinting toward the open air.

Once she’s outside, she’s panting and hacking up a lung. She looks around the street seeing everyone from the show has either scattered or stayed to watch what they can only hope to see through the layers of smoke. She’s covered in dust and she tries to take deep breathes, not realizing how much smoke she had inhaled.

MJ is frantically looking around, trying to find Hobie. She can’t see him in the sparse crowd, and he was someone who stood out. If it wasn't his height as a dead give away it would be his wicks. She knows Hobie wouldn’t have left without her and she whips back around looking at the collapsing building in fear.  She bites her tongue making a collective decision to go back into the fire.

She takes a step forward but stops when she sees a silhouette walking toward her. She hopes and prays that it’s Hobie, but she just sees Spider-Man. She starts to feel her breathe quicken as panic sets in. Her body moves on its own as she rushes to go back into the thick smoke.

Spider-Man’s masked eyes widen and he reaches out quickly and grabs her shoulders stopping her from going back. “Hey, hey! It’s dangerous in there! Ya bonkers or what?” He shouts like she’s insane, which she probably is.

Her eyes are wild as she looks at him, tears brimming her eyes, “Please, I think my friend is still in there! I- I can’t find him.” She tells him, her voice is hitching and she starts to hyperventilate.

His grip tightens on her and he ducks his head to look her in the eyes. “I’ll find him if he’s in there okay? Promise.” He says softly.

Her eyes are trying to search for the truth but all she finds is the stark white of his masked eyes and she has to chose to trust him. It’s her only option.

“Please," her voice breaks  "you have to find him.” She whispers, begging him.

He releases her and gently pushes her back toward the edge of the street where it’s safe. She just watches his back as he goes back into the destroyed building. She watches until she physically can't see him past the smoke and fire.

She’s clenching her hands tightly, leaving marks in her palm as all she can do is wait.

She sees another silhouette make its way towards her and the outline of his wicks has her releasing a shaky breath from her lips.

She sprints towards him and wraps her arms tightly around, hugging him close. She shoves her face into his shoulder, “I thought you fucking died in there!” She chokes out gripping onto him.

She feels him tense up for a moment, but it lasts for a split second before he’s exhaling and holding her too.

“Sorry, sorry, I got trapped for a moment.” He says, voice hoarse from the smoke.

She finally let’s go and pulls away and squints looking back toward the building. “Where did Spider-Man go?” She asks.

“He’s looking for others, in case they’re stuck.” He quickly tells her, moving himself to stand in front of her line of sight. His own face is concerned as he looks her over, “Are you okay?” he asks.

“I, uh,” She blinks for a moment trying to collect her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just smoke in my lungs, but that’s nothing new.” She jokes with a light laugh.

He nods giving her a smile, “C’mon let’s get out of here. Place is falling apart.” He says as a joke and plants his hand firmly on her lower back guiding her away from the wreckage.

[ladyxnocturnal]

His Sinful Craving

Leon Kennedy X Fem Reader

Summary:

You are Bartender, working yourself off day and night. Having to deal with stress and people that were too tipsy at the night club. Every night has been hell for you until you noticed a male that studied you from a far every night he would come in, nothing else but YOU. Until then.. you wondered, what was going through this makes head of his..

Warning: Obsession, Smut, Alcoholism, Dirty Talk, Oral, Unprotected Sex, Slight Angst, Rough Sex, Hair Pulling

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

{A/N: Back at it again with another fanfic! I’m sorry if it’s not any good but god all I can think about Damnation Leon in a bar. Like I see it lmao. ENJOY! :D}

MINORS GO AWAY PLEASE

“Don’t you dare to forget to clean up this goddamn place this time when you close, got it there sweetcheeks?” Your very “kind” of a boss demanded you. It’s been a while ever since you stepped your foot into this job. You had no other choice to really sign up for this shit of a job. Who would want to work in such a disgusting place like this? There was too many negative behavior on the daily, drunken brawls that led you up the walls to break apart. Even worse to add on, drunk old men that would come in every late at night to pick their poison to flirt with young women like yourself; disgusting.

Hearing those words of your boss could make your eyes roll but you didn’t dare to cock an attitude, what was even the point anyway? An argument? Getting fired? Seems about right. All you could do is just give in at this point, it would be a waste of breath to stand up.

“Of course, I promise. I’m very sorry about last time, it will never happen again sir.” You could gag for being so positive around your own boss for much of an asshole he can be and lash on other members here for no reason. Working is tiring but was there really a reason to show negative behavior to others? Absolutely not.

“Better not. Or I’ll cut your paycheck like I did before with the rest, so you better not fuck this up. I’ll be on my way now. Do NOT forget.” He scolded you like you was some child, paced right past you in a flash as you were left at the counter. You couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief from his normal routine of being this rude. If you could just show your true colors by now, he wouldn’t be even able to survive.

You quickly snapped out of this aggravation and didn’t want to waste any time, just an hour then you can close this place for the night. The thought made you excited, already hearing your bed call your name. You put a smile on your face to continue the night, running the damp rag across the marble counter in front of you to clean up the sticky substance of alcohol that stuck to the counter, scrubbing it down to make sure it’s spotless to of course your bosses liking.

The thought of your boss clouded your head again with stress and rage, getting lost into your burdens. You kept overthinking the rudeness, how it was awful to work in such a place like this. Taking all the bullshit from everyone around you, even working for. When you were lost in your little troubled world, you felt a presence from afar like someone was watching every move you make.

All that rage rushed away as your head peeked up to see a male leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, looking right into your direction. You immediately noticed this mysterious male, he would always come in sometimes to catch a drink. But.. he would always watch you? Strange. You couldn’t really comprehend how he looks from how darken the bar was but he seemed tall and fit, as fit like he belonged into the military type of fit. Either way, he seemed to really caught your interest. You felt a quick wave of embarrassment of staring back at this unknown male you haven’t even talked to yet.

“Fuck. Don’t poke around the job Y/N. Not too long now.”

You cursed to yourself, going back to work. Organizing bottles to the right places, replacing empty ones with new ones that came in stock. The extra training worked like a charm after all thanks to a fellow member that worked here longer than you, taking the advice pretty well for such a job like this. It was like you were an expert after all, too much easy for you.

“See Y/N? Everything is going so amazing! Everything is going to be just fine..” you sighed in relief, trying to hold your head from all this stress over your shoulders.

“You seem tense there sweetheart.” A male tone came out of no where behind you, making you quickly turn around to see the male that always stood from afar that finally came out of hiding.

You finally got a better close look of this unknown man. He had dirty blonde hair but looked brown in some of the darkness of the bar, with some fringes on each side of his toned face following with those greenish blue eyes that lit up in the light above the marble counter. You felt yourself in awe for how handsome he really is, your eyes scanning his features but quickly snapped back to reality. But did he really call you sweetheart? You felt butterflies in your stomach from that, the actual first time you didn’t get disgusted by a man ever here.

“Well, I’ll just say working here isn’t the best when people want to treat you like a dog really.” You responded with a drained tone in your voice, shaking your head as you placed the rag to the side.

The male that caught interest in you took in your stress. “I see. People like that just doesn’t deserve your worth.” His tone was softened along with his gaze on you.

You even noticed how understanding and truthful he was, making your eyes light up. Sighing, you made your way next to him to sit on the stool, placing your elbow on the marble surface to take your cheek into your hand.

“You really think so? I mean, this is all I have right now. But I’m used to it anyways. Not fun exactly.”

You felt kind of strange to randomly vent to someone you barely knew but something about this man made you feel eased to talk to, it was nice to talk to someone every once in a while if they actually cared anyway.

“I know so. And it seems like you’re not having fun, I’ve noticed it every time I come here. I wouldn’t put up with peoples bullshit if I were you. By the way.. The names Leon. What’s your name sweetheart?” His tone was so soft, keeping his contact on you.

Leon? You made sure to take mental note to remember this unknown male. Again with that ‘sweetheart’ was enough to make your face lightly heat up. “Y/N.” You responded a bit hesitant, noticing everyone beginning to leave the bar. Some struggling to walk out from how tipsy and drunk they were. It was a daily routine to see for you, you were very used to it at this point.

It was finally time to close the bar which made you sigh in relief, turning back to Leon. “Thank you for listening to me Leon, it was very nice of you. I’ll remember your advice, it means a lot. But now, I have to close and it’s not going to be fun either for such a clean up to do.” You groaned with stress, putting your head down from so much mental energy draining you.

Leon placed his hand on your shoulder to lightly massage to comfort you.

“Hey, it will be okay. Here, I’ll help you out okay? So it can make things faster here yeah?” He made sure to make you feel better, Leon wanted to help after all from seeing how much stress you had already that bothered you. You peeked your head up to meet his gaze, surprised for such an offer.

“You really don’t have to do such a thing-“

“You have no other choice. Look, you’re not getting away from me that easy.”

The words were really taken out of your mouth. You smiled gratefully for the less stress. You could thank any god right now for Leon at this point. “Okay Okay. I owe you one. Thank you so much Leon.”

Leon didn’t waste any time on helping you out with your struggles. The both of you picked up trash around the tables, sweeping underneath tables, wiping down table tops to make sure nothing was sticking to the surfaces. Leon mostly helped by picking up trash and straightening up chairs. You were mostly the one that loves the sweeping and wiping off tables.

Leon managed to do his part, leaning against the wall like before to crossing his arms. His eyes wondered around the place but immediately stopped when you were in the picture in his eyes. The way you were cleaning the tables, slightly bent in an angle to show your perfection, that apron hugging around your waist that made him start to think of so many places in that wicked mind of his that toyed his thoughts. It was like he was craving..craving you to be exact. It drove his mind wild to think such of thing by your existence, just doing what you had to do. He knew this had to be wrong of him but ever since he came to this bar and saw you working hard, it made an inner feeling of his release in him. He craved you. He wanted you. But you were stressed which made him feel so much sympathy over your struggles. So much stress filled you but, he knew another little stress relief too but he just couldn’t do it, it would be very wrong of him.

Wiping the tabletop, you hummed to yourself to keep focused but noticed that familiar gaze from afar just exact like the beginning. You knew he was staring at you from behind, making a pit in your stomach that made your face flushed but took the hint. This was wrong, you couldn’t just feel this way for such a make you barely knew but he was too understanding and sweet. That’s what you really cared about but, the way he kept his eyes on you, scanning your perfect features, made the butterflies in your stomach grow stronger. You liked it and was very curious. With that being said, you ‘accidentally’ made your angle that you was in slightly move even more bent to show off yourself more. You felt foolish for doing this but you didn’t want to seem crazy, you felt his gaze all on you.

Leon immediately felt his eyes darken from your body bending even more down on that table top. His mind was racing, imaging himself over there making you a mess. He wondered what you felt around him, grunting slightly from that thought. But he quickly felt his mind lightly disappear when he started to get erected in his jeans. There was no turning back now.

“What do you think you’re doing sweetheart?”

‘Sweetheart’, the way he says that was enough to make your face flush even more. Looking to the side to meet that wicked gaze of his. “What do you think YOU’RE doing looking at me like that for handsome.” You gave him back how exactly you felt when he calls you ‘sweetheart’.

And oh boy did it work. Leon’s wicked behavior battled him more. The male couldn’t hold back any longer, making his way towards you to turn to look him right into his eyes like a challenge, his hand placed on your jaw to force eye contact from you.

“You really want to know why I’m always looking at you?” He chuckled, his thumb slowly swiping across your bottom lip. “I can’t help that you’re the only woman I crave for. I mean look at you, you’re gorgeous and I can’t help but want to make you mine. Only for me hon.” He voice lowered an octave as he spoke.

Your face was nothing but a huge shade of red, taking in every word of his that made your mind going into other places; desire.

“Really now? How exactly do you want me to be yours then?” You teased, your eyes locking up at the male so ‘innocently’.

Leon could read you like a book, he figured you were teasing him which made this more fun for him. “How about, I show you then rather tell yeah?” He smirked with a light chuckle.

Before you could say anything, his lips connected to yours with passion, not even hesitating to match with his kiss. With this passionate kiss, the male wrapped your legs around his waist to boost you up to take you onto the marble counter to untie your apron around your neck to fall smoothly off your body. Your hands ruffled into his messy hair, combing his fringes back with your fingers. Leon broke the kiss a brief moment to take off your shirt, you helping him out of his black jacket to clatter to the ground. Leon started the kiss back again, craving more of your lips moving against his.

This was an amazing feeling to you, I mean you pretty much did ‘owe him one’ but not only for his satisfaction, it was for you and his satisfaction. You both craved each other. This whole knew feeling was making you hungry for more desire, your hands running down his shoulders to his chest to his belt to unbuckle quickly to pull from his loops to fall to ground. Leon couldn’t help but to chuckle in the kiss, pulling away to take an amazing sight of you in your bra. “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was soft, his hands unclipping the back of your bra to reveal your breasts.

His voice felt like music to your hears, bringing him closer to give him a kiss onto his lips. Leon made his hands fondle your breasts, his thumbs softly grazing onto your nipples that ran shivers down your spine. “What’s wrong? You’re already sensitive sweetheart?” He teased, lowering his mouth to suck onto your nipped that made you gasp in awe. “Fuck- Leon-“

Hearing his name come out your mouth like this was making his craving even more worse. He was growing impatient. He brought his lips to your neck to leave slow trails of kisses to find your good spot to mark just right. You whimpered, the anticipation was killing you. It was strange how this male suddenly took a big toll on you, catching big interest in you and now here you both are, having a sinful craving together.

Leon wasted no time to pull your pants down along with your underwear, lowering himself on his knees. His arms pulled you close to him by your legs to hook his arms around your thighs. “Fuck, you’re so fucking breathtaking.” He cooed, his eyes staring right up at you.

You locked eyes with him, watching himself inch his mouth close to your flower. His mouth connecting perfectly to your bundle of nerves. Your eyes closed to take in this pleasure the male was giving you, one of your hands gripping into his hair to bring him closer, the other gripping into the the counter. “Fuck! Oh my god Leon..-“ you moaned out in satisfaction.

Leon loved hearing you moan for him, feeling very confident with his actions to making you feel this good. He gently sucked onto your clit, receiving pleasured moans to escape your mouth. Your body slightly jerked from being sensitive but pleasure overflowing you all over.

He loved how you taste; lust and like candy to him. You were going crazy from this pleasure high. Wanting even more of Leon. “L-Leon!- Please..!” You whined with hitched breaths. He stopped his actions, his thumb rubbing your bundle of nerves slowly in a circular motion to look up at you with a grin. “Please what baby?”

“Please!- Please fuck me already!.” You begged, making you slightly embarrassed to beg in a state like this. Seeing this whole side of you made Leon surprised, he wasn’t complaining one bit though. Begging was enough to make his confidence boost up from getting to you so easily.

“You’re so adorable, begging already for me to make you a mess? You’re naughty after all.” He chuckled, making himself get up to make you bend against the counter. Making the tip of his cock teasingly rub between your folds that made his cock wet. “Just to let you know sweetheart, you’re not gonna be able to walk for a week.” He quickly added, immediately slamming himself inside you to make you squeal.

You were taken back from how fast he slammed inside you that easily, gripping into the marbled counter. “Le-! Ah!-“ your breath hitched, his hips moving in a fast pace in no time to make you speechless but making you a moaning and screaming mess.

Leon groaned from how amazing you felt around his cock, catching brief sight of seeing himself move in and out of you so perfectly along with your wetness. “Fu-Fuck you feel so fucking amazing.” He growled under his breath, his hand gripping into your hip, the other pulling your hair to make your head go back.

You couldn’t speak from how much he was abusing your good spot, your body trembling in so much pleasure. Tears formed into your eyes in ecstasy. It was crazy for how Leon was going so fast and rough with you. His grip tightened more into your hair, pulling you back more to make sure your body was angled just right to make his cock hit asking your good spot each time he thrusted inside you.

“L-Look at you, taking my fucking cock so perfectly. This cunt is all fucking mine.” He growled between each thrust, drilling into more with all his energy.

The pit of your abdomen started to build up with your climax, trying to hold back to not cum just yet but was failing so miserably. “Leon!!- I’m- I’m-!”

“What? Are you going to cum? Do it. Cum all over my fucking cock.” He chuckled, his breathing getting more heavy as his thrusts were more sloppy and full of the rest of his energy. The more he thrusted, the more he was going to release his climax as well.

With that being said, you didn’t hesitate to release your climax. Your body feeling weak from all the aggressive sex Leon was giving you.

Leon quickly pulled out to pump himself a couple of times to release his seed onto your ass, grunting to himself as he felt the aftershock messing with him. “Fuckkk…”

You panted, managing to hold yourself against the counter weakly, looking behind you to see the messy male. “S-So, I’m all yours now huh?” You chuckled playfully, causing him to laugh.

“You got that right sweetheart.” His gaze softened, grabbing a rag to wipe away the mess he made on you. “There we go. How about we get the hell out of here and go to my place?”

You couldn’t help but smile, trying to get the strength to bend to get your clothes to place back on piece by piece. “I’d love that.”

End

[centralperkchenford]

Chenford ❤️ Chris proposes to Lucy and she ends up at Tim's door

This is just a short little fic! I hope you like it anon! 🩵

Chenford ❤️ Chris proposes to Lucy and she ends up at Tim's door

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

Lucy looks around the restaurant that Chris had chosen. It was fancy maybe a little too fancy. The waiters were in black and white and all the tables had candles on them. When they had been seated, they were immediately offered wine that cost more than Lucy’s last paycheck.

Chris is sitting across from her going on about something that happened at work. Lucy was half listening as she picked at the bread on the table.

“Lucy?” Chris says bringing Lucy back to the present. He is smiling at her and he reaches for her hands and squeezes them.

“I’m glad we are doing this.” He says seriously. “I know you have been busy lately.” Lucy tries not to grimace as guilt rises up in her. She has been busy but the truth is she also has been avoiding Chris like the plague. She was going to break up with him but she just couldn’t figure out how without completely breaking his heart.

She knew Chris loved her and she didn’t want to hurt him but she just didn’t feel anything for him. She wasn’t sure if she ever did. She needed to end it before he got any crazy ideas.

“Right.” She says. “Listen Chris I need to—”

But Chris cuts her off with a big smile on his face. He gets out of his chair and comes to stand in front of her. Well fuck.

“Let me go first.” He says still smiling as he looks at her. Lucy swallows hard as she looks at him and his eager expression. “I feel like we are in a good place and I really love you. So..” He gets down on one knee and pulls out a small box. Lucy closes her eyes and prays that this is just a horrible dream.

“Will you marry me?” He asks. She looks down at him and then around the restaurant. People are staring at them and whispering. She closes her eyes as thinks about what she is going to say.

Lucy looks down at him again and then stands up backing away. “No.” She says. Chris’s face falls immediately and Lucy takes another step back. “No Chris, I will not marry you. I-I don’t love you. We have nothing in common and I— no.” She swallows again and is aware of everyone whispering loudly. And Chris’s face of disappointment. She ignores it all as she turns around and leaves the restaurant.

***

Chris calls her about ten times as she’s leaving the restaurant and getting into her car. She starts her car, tears burning at her eyes as she backs out.

How did she let her relationship with Chris get to the point where he thought he could propose. She should have broken up with him last weekend, when they stayed in and ordered take out just like they did every single weekend. They never tried anything new, they never did anything new. It was all about Chris and what he wanted.

Her hands shake as she drives and she’s not even sure where she is going but then she turns onto a familiar street and of course.

She had driven to the one person who understood her better than anyone.

Tim.

And things haven’t been perfect between them but she still considers him a friend and honestly the only person she wants to see right now. He just makes everything better, he makes her heart race with his smile and he makes her skin feel like it’s on fire with his touch. And she may be falling for him.

She parks in front of his house and hesitates a bit. Her hands still shaking, her phone buzzes again and she looks over to see Chris on her screen. She turns it off and then heads towards the front door.

She stands in front of the door wondering what she is going to say to Tim, she doesn’t even know why she’s here. She knocks on the door once and then twice her heart pounding. She is just about to turn around when she hears the door opening.

“Lucy?” Tim’s voice rings out and she turns to face him her eyes burning with tears ago. He frowns a little before he’s reaching out and pulling her in. Once inside he lets her go and steps back.

“What are you doing here?” Tim asks quietly. She looks up at him and he’s wearing a concerned expression on his face.

“I-I um..” she says. “Chris proposed.” She watches as Tim’s face goes from concerned to heartbroken in about three seconds and then her heart breaks. Because she wasn’t expecting that.

“Oh.” He says. He looks at her hand and then back at her face. “What are you doing here then?”

She chews on her lip and then steps forward. “I wanted to see you.” She replies and pauses as Tim takes in her words. “I said no to him. To Chris.” Tim face changes as a smile twitches at his lips.

“Yeah?” He asks. “Why?” Lucy sighs and they both step forward together.

“He’s great in some ways but he’s not…” She trails off while Tim steps forward more.

“He’s not what Lucy?” Tim asks. Lucy blows out a breath, her heart is pounding and she just wants to be in Tim’s arms but she doesn’t even know if he feels the same way about her.

“He’s not..you.” She answers. Tim’s face softens immediately a smile lighting up his handsome features.

“Well..” Starts Tim and then he reaches out for her his hand on her waist and suddenly they are chest to chest and she can feel his heart beat. It’s racing just as much as hers. He nuzzles his nose into her neck. “That’s quite a coincidence. Because you have ruined me for anyone else. All I can think about is you.”

Lucy’s heart nearly leaps out of her chest. All they had done is kiss but…

“Yeah you pretty much occupy my thoughts too.” She replies. Tim’s lips ghost her lips as she grins up at him.

The feeling of dread she had when she was at the restaurant with Chris was gone. All she felt was pure joy and happiness, and she realizes this isn’t a new feeling she feels like this when she is around Tim. All the time.

Tim kisses her lips once lightly and then harder. And god it’s perfect and just as good as last time.

Tim spins her around so she’s pressed against the wall next to the door. His hands trail up her body, and hers are in his hair scrapping her nails across his scalp.

“Tim.” She whispers. He breaks away from her reluctantly. But he gazes down at her like she’s a treasure he’s not never going to give up.

“Hmm.” He mutters kissing behind her ear.

“Y-you want this? Me?” She asks. She doesn’t know why she’s asking this because it’s pretty clear by the way Tim’s looking at her and touching her he wants her but she just wants to be sure. She’s not sure she can take losing Tim.

Tim cradles her face and when he speaks it’s with the upmost sincerity. “Lucy, you have no idea how much I want this.” He reaches down to tap her thigh gently. “The fact that you showed up on my doorstep and—” He kisses her still cradling her face, “Yes Lucy I want you.”

Lucy swallows hard. “Good.” She says. “That’s good.”

“It’s very good.” Tim agrees his hand dropping to her thigh and lifting her up on the wall. He holds her there so she doesn’t slip down.

Lucy kisses him as if he’s the oxygen she needs to breathe and maybe he is. Maybe this is what she has always needed.

In the distance she hears her phone buzzing but she ignores it she will deal with Chris later. Right now all she wants is to be here in the moment with Tim. And he must feel the same way, because he pulls her off the wall and then walks her backwards towards his bedroom never taking his eyes off of her.

And this is the perfect end to her evening.

[fullofgutsndopamine]

i'll wake (with coffee in the morning)

Having a late night with hasan, where he breaks down about how much stress he is under with work and Amelie and stuff so you both go to bed super late. Letting hasan sleep in the next morning cause he doesn't have work or a morning skate and to be honest he doesn't get enough sleep. Him freaking out about trying to get breakfast together for amelie and him coming downstairs to you having made breakfast for both of them, just trying to do small things to help because you care about them both so much omg I'm so soft for this series sorry I'm rambling

tw/angst (genuinely, this is all angst), curing, mention of past abuse/toxic family,

FITPS verse, not necessary reading, but more in the same verse here if you're interested

"Hasan."

it's the third time he rolls over in bed with a huff, that you realize sleep won't be finding hasan tonight.

The light from the shitty convivence store the next block open with the fluorescent OPEN sign that blinks and hums in the dark shines in your eyes, no matter how you reposition yourself

He huffs, doesn't answer, scoots up in bed so his back is against the bedframe.

And you sit up, turn the light on and illuminate the small room, your hand on his chest, voice is borderline pleading: "hasan, talk to me."

this happens, ocassionaly.

it's been awhile, since he's been like this, when the anxiety hits and the sleepless nights find him.

But when they do find him, it's usually after a long week, him struggling to juggle Amelie, her school and hockey practice, and him-with his job; business has picked up, and while it's good for paychecks, you can't ignore the dark bags under his eyes and the groaning of his bones when he goes to pick Amelie up, throw her in the air, the missed dinners he's passed by, sleeping on the couch, too tired to even walk up the stairs-

he doesn't answer.

stares straight ahead, runs his hands through his hair, shaking, unsure of himself, his voice cracks, and he doesn't look at you, like this has been on the back of his mind for a while-

"What if all of this was a mistake?"

He laughs, but it's without humor, his eyes dark:

"Like, what if she's actually fucked by me raising her? What if she turns out like me?"

this is heavy, especially for a Thursday night, but you know this song and dance, are an expert in it-

"hasan, come on."

"No," He shakes his head, "You come on-"

He's spiraling, and there's only one fix.

You throw the old quilt off your body, wiggle your toes against the cold wood floors as you pad to his side, hold your hand out:

"hasan, come on-"

He doesn't say anything back, but allows you to tangle your hand into his, to pull him out of bed, and lead as you slowly lead down the creaking steps, to the couch where you let him fall onto, curl next to him:

"hasan," You try, your voice borders on pleading, "What's going on?"

You pull him closer, against his chest, your hands tangled into his hair, pulling at it gently, something he usually likes, finds comforting-

His voice is weak, like he's thought about this all week, tossed and turned, lost sleep over it-

"I don't want her to end up like me," His voice breaks somewhere in the middle, "Like, to be fucked up like me? Didn't even fucking finish school, working at a shop like a fucking loser. Maybe my Dad was right."

He snorts, but there's no humor, his eyes dark.

"hasan, come on. You just need some sleep." Your voice borders on pleading.

instead, his voice is dark: "Like, this is the kicker, right?" he snorts, "You grow up and your family is shit, dies early, leaves you alone to raise a kid, right?"

He laughs, shakes his head, "And the whole time, you're terrified you're going to fuck her up. Turn out like her Father, or even worse, like you, right? And you can't do a damn thing about it."

"hasan," You plead, "You aren't a fuck up-"

"And it's all going to be my fucking fault," He shakes his head, "I can't blame anyone but myself."

Sometimes, when he gets like this, there's no talking him off the ledge.

instead, it's laying against the couch, pulling him into you, gently ruffling his hair, letting him rant into your pajama shirt, goes from borderline yelling, to sobbing, whole body shaking weeping that leaves wet stains on your shirt that you both ignore, holding him close, praying for it to be over-

by the time he's exhausted, when his eyes are drooping and low, from lack of sleep, and from crying, he leads you by the hand up the creaking stairs, to the old bedroom-

the only saving grace, you can think of, as you lay in the bed, is that tomorrow is his only day off after a full week of working late, showing up to Amelie's practices just in time, peeling his grease stained shirt off in the parking lot, trying to look presentable after a long day, the world beating his ass day after day-

Birds outside the powerlines wake hasan up.

Which is unusual, since usually, his alarm has him up at 4am, when birds dare sing yet, still trying to sleep in for five more minutes-

this causes him to panic, naturally.

"Fuck!" he all but screams when he rolls over, the alarm clock says 10:06 in red, as if mocking him.

You aren't in his too small bed, and your spot on the mattress is long cold, which also worries him-

one thing at a time your voice comes through his head, the gentle voice you use on him when he's spiraling, when you hold either side of his face in your palm, making him look at you: one thing at a time, hasan. Just one-

a deep breathe and he nods, hops around on the floor as he gets into his old work jeans, worn with age and from working, covered in a mix of grease and who knows what fuck else-

he's buttoning his work shirt, which he's 90% sure smells and he'll need to Febreze, as he runs down the stairs, to the kitchen, yelling to Amelie:

"Aimes!" He yells, running his hands through his hair, is going to have to skip a shower since his alarm didn't go off, "sunshine, we got ten minutes, baby girl. You gotta get up!"

Breakfast will have to be quick, instant, something that will make the mothers in the pick up line clutch their necklaces and lean their heads in to whisper about that brother, the one who's raising his kid on a steady diet of store brand poptarts, instant oatmeal, and most days-pleading and begging with whatever god exists to stop making him a fucking joke for the love of god-

"hasan," Amelie giggles as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. "We're up already, silly."

she's giggling, a smile on her face as she wears one of his old shirts from marching band, far too big on her, down to her knees, is kneeling on an old mismatched stool as she helps you pour flour into a mixing bowl-

"We're-" he pauses, his shirt buttons fucked up, "Late?"

It's a question, not a satement.

"It's Sunday, honey." You smile warmly at him, walk over and fix his shirt for him, "Come on, breakfast will be ready soon."

"hasan," Amelie giggles, "We're making pancakes."

She giggles like it's a secret, when in reality, it's just a rare treat. Panckes are money and time consuming-and he has neither.

"I see, sunshine'." He smiles as he sits down next to you, "With chocolate chips?' He tickles her side, kisses the side of her face, fond on his face.

"Here." His head looks up, and he's immediately handed a warm mug of coffee into his hands. He inhales it deeply; smells perfect-

"You didn't have to do this." His voice is gentle, small, like he's scared, isn't use to this kind of treatment-

"I know," You shrug, as you grab the bowl of batter, "But it's what you do for people you love."

and you say it so simply, so matter of fact.

the first i love you he's ever gotten, that's ever meant something, isn't matched with the rug being pulled out from under him, without the kiss of a fist-

"Yeah," Amelie parrots, "For people you love."

and you ruffle her hair as she helps you pour the batter, the love is said with the same mocking siblings do, but the smile says she loves having you around, another parental figure, someone to help hasan-

Your eyes slowly drag up, as you realize what you said, afraid he'll be upset, or not feel the same, will yell or kick you out, scare him off-

instead, he comes into the kitchen, drags his finger through the bowl to taste it, another dip to touch it to the tip of Amelie's nose, before his hands go around your waist, his chin on your shoulder-

"Yeah," he says gently, into your ear, before he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his voice is low and deep, how you know he means it: "I love you too."

[whumblr]

Agonising

I come in peace, I come bearing gifts. This is not the Bad Place. This is what happens to Zayne while Jay is on his way in the trunk of a car :) Follow-up to chapter Antagonising.

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

So. This was it.

No way Emery was going to let a betrayal like this slide. And as soon as the bag was ripped from his head, when his eyes adjusted to the bit of light there was and he instantly recognised the warehouse, their old hideout, yeah, he knew he was going to die here.

With a grunt Zayne landed hard on his knees. Hands tightened around his shoulders, pressing him back down when he struggled to try and get back on one knee. He wasn’t going to just let this happen but even he had to admit defeat against two of Emery’s bodyguards who had the high ground. These weren’t owned pawns; they were paid and had their own motivation for helping Emery out. Money. Fear can only get you so far. A pawn controlled by fear would only gladly step aside to let a bullet pass right into a hated boss. Zayne knew he would. It's why Emery used him as a weapon instead of a shield. But when the paycheck stops along with your boss’ heartbeat… that’s a different matter.

His jacket was ripped away from him and leather cuffs were replaced by the bite of metal around his wrists.

He couldn’t suppress a shudder when the cold swept over his bare arms, when it stabbed right through his flimsy t-shirt. He glared up, teeth grit, hoping his boiling fury would serve to keep him warm. And to keep him from giving up.

“The only thing you have going for you right now, Zayne, is that I know this wasn’t your idea.” Emery slowly advanced on him now that he was safely contained on his knees, having cowardly kept a few steps back, slinking in the shadows to let his pawns fight Zayne to his knees, too afraid he would snap towards him. “So consider this your one and only chance to start talking.”

Zayne scoffed and turned away but a gloved hand snagged in his hair and pulled him back, forced him to look up.

Emery’s face of thunder told Zayne that not in a million years the guy could have seen this coming. So once the wince of pain had retreated, Zayne merely scoffed again, this time with a gloating smile.

“You should start preparing your exit instead of bothering with me.”

The hand in his hair slid away and he braced himself. Emery couldn’t throw a punch to save his life, hell, couldn’t make a dent in a pack of butter if he tried. So unsurprisingly, the gloved hand instead simply made a gesture to the man standing behind him.

And something akin to a brick to the face made his head snap to the side.

He couldn’t contain a grunt of pain, couldn’t fight off the haze that nearly paralyzed him for a few seconds. Then he shook it off and sat upright again, as if nothing had happened.

“Is it really that strange I want to see you go down?” he snarled.

“No. But your talk of your reporter looking into things and suddenly you want me to go on record to admit to plans of murder? Not that hard to see the full picture.” Emery’s face twisted into the condescending smile Zayne knew so well. “Not to mention you don’t have the brains to come up with such a plan yourself. You were even too stupid to bring it to a success.”

Before Zayne could growl out a reply, a bare hand curled in his hair again, pulled him up. Another fist blasted full in his stomach, followed up with a backhand to the face.

He doubled over, coughing, wheezing. Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain for the brief moment that he could conceal his face while leaning down.

His breath came in shallow shudders, pain and something he didn’t want to acknowledge making it hard to regain a steady rhythm. But he pulled himself up as far as he was allowed on his knees, straightening up and baring his torso as if he dared them to go for another.

Emery just watched, looking down on him, unmoved by the violence.

“So tell me, exactly, why I shouldn’t bother with you. Hm?”

“They know everything. Police will come looking for you soon.”

“Please.” A casual wave of his hand and Emery shook his head. “Don’t tell me you actually went along with your reporter’s fantasies?”

A cry of pain slipped free when a fist caught him right smack in the face. He felt his nose give, felt it break. Blood gushed down over his lips, dripped onto his knees. His chin drooped, making a red stain where it rested against his chest. Yet again, he forced himself back up.

And he spat out a glob of blood right in front of Emery’s polished shoes.

Didn’t matter that he missed. His nose was going to give him plenty of material to try again.

He hadn’t noticed one of the men had circled him and the kick from behind came out of nowhere.

His hands automatically moved, trying to catch himself. But he only managed to scrape the skin of his wrists as he yanked them against the unyielding metal. He barely managed not to smash his broken nose against the floor. Blood still spilled over his chin, staining the grey dust with red. Increased the splatter as he coughed hard when a kick to his side connected.

It became harder and harder to fight his way back to a kneeling position. A position that allowed him to hold on to the few fragments of pride he still had. He sure as hell wasn’t going to slump down on his knees in defeat. Doubled over in pain. Looking down. He wasn’t! Even if it hurt to breathe, hurt to strain his muscles, he was gonna get back up damnit!

Unexpectedly, and very unwelcome, the man behind him helped with that. Zayne felt something poke against his back, touch over the inside of his arm. He glanced back. Noticed the guy behind him standing on one leg. And before he could even think about taking advantage of that, an immense pressure tugged against his wrists.

 The handcuffs dug into his skin as the man stepped onto the chain and pressed down.

Zayne hissed, hid a cry of pain into a choked off grunt. He could already feel the blood drip down his wrists and he had no choice but to follow as he was leveraged up, shoulders ready to pop if he kept resisting. His back arched, his chest tilted up, his torso now even more vulnerable than before and—

He retched hard when a fist buried into his stomach again. Crushed against ribs. Into his side. A knee rested against his back, slowly moving down and it felt like his wrists were getting torn off. A hand slid under his chin, fingers bruised his jaw as the man behind kept him from slumping over. And only let go when he finally cried out after several more blows to his ribs.

He nearly collapsed right then and there. Going by how painful it was to even breathe right now, he was pretty sure something broke. The coughing really didn’t help either.

Something cold pressed under his chin and he went still. He followed up as the gun tilted his head until he looked into the dead cold eyes of his former boss.

“Mercy?” Emery asked, tipping the gun so the muzzle pressed into the underside of his chin.

“Fuck no,” Zayne growled.

The gun pulled away and something almost like a smile crossed Emery’s lips. “Good.”

A sudden bright light lit up the room and Zayne squinted, turning his head. Unwise. He didn’t see the fist coming this time and it nearly blew him right to the ground. It took all his core muscles to stay upright.

When he peeked a glance, he realised it came from the headlights of an approaching car, shining right through the entrance, engulfing Emery in light. His silhouette stood out against the beam, unmoving, the gun by his side, his coat merely rustling in the wind.

Then it died and he heard two doors slam shut. Heard some commotion, followed by eerie silence.

Two men marched in, dragging in a third caught in the middle of them. There was no resistance. The blond man in the middle didn’t move. He was draped over their arms letting them carry him, hands tied behind his back, head lolling, feet dragging. They dropped him without a care and he collapsed like a doll with its strings cut. And he didn’t move.

Zayne caught the whispered “no” that was about to emerge from his throat, but then the figure twitched to life. Jay groaned softly, rubbing his forehead against the concrete. And Zayne felt himself exhale, flooded with relief. He was still alive.

But… he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“If you don’t want to tell…” Emery sneered, “maybe he will.”

That actually made him laugh. And it earned him another punch. Didn’t need it; his ribs already punished him for that snort. “Yeah… good luck with that,” he said, revealing a bloodied grin.

Emery ignored him. Walked over to Jay who flinched back. Said something Zayne couldn’t hear. With him standing over the barely moving man, Zayne found himself leaning forward, wanting to snarl at him to leave him al—

A well-timed punch across the mouth shut him up. Another followed. Stay put, they said. Don’t move. Don’t interfere.

The whole left side of his face was pins and needles by now, battered and bruised. Would be nice if they’d stop slowly pulverizing his left cheekbone to dust and he found himself wishing they’d mix things up a little, with a backhanded slap or something.

“It doesn’t matter that he’s here,” he tried – a total lie – when Emery returned and loomed over him. “You can kill us both, but you’re still going down.” Jay’s words echoed in his mind.

“Well, you won’t be there to see it,” Emery said, still eerily calm. “Even if I were to keep you alive you wouldn’t.” He took a step back so they could both look at Jay, who by now was in full-blown panic mode. “Shame you didn’t kill him when I told you to. Now he gets to kill you instead.”

“Wha—"

“While it would be my pleasure to drive a bullet into your skull myself...” He twisted the gun in his hand, pressed it into the hand of one of his men, and considered Jay. “I think I’ll allow your victim to do the honours.”

Then his gaze shot back to Zayne, studying his trembling form, the swelling on his face, the pain in his eyes, and the fury that despite all of the former still blazed brightly.

“But maybe… a little payback is in order first.”

-

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful

[carmenized-onions]

NEW CHAPTER, 14, new recap (can you believe the first one i recapped was chapter 5 oh my) lets rip some coke and goooo

“I thought it was a good bit!” “Cause I’m a piece of shit?” - IVE MISSED THISS

CHARMIN SOUNDS LIKE CHARMING 🥹🥹🥹

the deer in headlights bit is v funny, you’ll see when you see the memes (which i made before the chapter, i am nostradamus)

she is fruity for sure

nodding like i understand food talk (tf is a3)

unrelated but the same therapist thing reminded me about something i keep forgetting to bring up - RICHIE IS HR. so when you mentioned the bear needs an HR, well they do. and as long as carmy treats chip right i think he’ll accept the co-worker relationship (anything to be able to work with chippy)

THE CAT. he is those cute curly kitties. the shat, iykyk

the fact carmen wants to say ‘i love you’ this early (something he struggled a lot to say to his family) IS SOOOOOOOOO

OMG CHIPPY GOING TO WORK FOR THEM FOR REAL????:333333333

This has been Carmichael Burrowski, folks! Don’t call no one— — DNEKRKRIOELEKDKFODNEKE CARMICHAEL BURROWSKI

Ugh, boyfriend? What kind of word is ‘boyfriend’? That's fucked. - THEYRE SO SIMILAR AND PERFECT TOGETHER

And you cannot say you love him because that would be weird. - OH SHUT UP THEYRE SO

“I’m going to kiss you.” “Yeah, okay.” - THAT IS SO FUNNY SJDJFJKF

He’s fine with the touch of hair pulling, on your part— Possibly more than fine. — *giggles in meme*

“You’re so pretty.” You tell him anyway, speaking into his half open mouth.  Whatever thought he had, it’s dead now.“—Jesus fucking Christ.” - i need them to know how much i love them jesus fucking christ

“I’m not a fucking virgin.” - LMFAOEKRKKEOEKEKRNRKRKRKEKEKEKE

“It was a recent development, okay?” “Darn. Sorry I was late.” - 🥺🥺🥺 imagine -

“I want you in every sentence.” - FUCKING KILL ME WHY DONT YOU CARA MIA😭

to bite you like a cannibal - this man and his hickeys🤭🤭🤭

“Fak is still outside, I’m pretty sure.” - CHIP??1?2?2?3kr3kr3kr3kr838484kr4&4&4

“Wait— Are they?” Oh, so Richie’s here, too? Good. - oh great everyone’s here, bet squid is there too

NUZZLING NOSES

her old cat, her old pu-

Nuzzling your face into Syd’s cheek - squidink as she’s holding carm’s hand?? wild

“First of all, wrong placement.” - ofc it is

When shit happens, you call me - 🥺🥺🥺 bestie!!!

“Get your weird little hands off my Chip, you perv—” - LMFAOOOW DJEJEJDJDJ I LOVE HIM SO

and syd’s reply sidjdifi

“Y’know how going to a different barber is like cheating—?” - SJDJDJ GET HIS ASS CHIP. they swapped her for fucking ted fak???

“You’re still— We’re still sharing, right?” - SYD SHENJEHEJE

I’m sexually normal - very normal thing to say, it me tho

OMFG IF CHIP RECOGNIZES DONNA AND PETE FROM OUTSIDE THE RESTAURANT

“Baby’s do traditionally experience time, yeah.” “You n’ that smart mou—” - their dynamic is unmatched

You have to respect the power in that. “Damn.” - that reminded me of marcus

“Oooh, Charmin gets his first paycheck suddenly he’s all that—” “You wanna come up to my room or not?” - i was gonna comment on the charmin thing but HELLO1??1?23)kr3:kr

THEY CAN HANG. SURE BRO

THEYRE WATCHING RATATOUILLE OMGGGGG

Sleeveless black turtleneck? Maybe black palazzo pants - HOT

Please say yes to the white apron. Please say yes to his team. He'll get your initials monogrammed and everything. - *passes out*

the wonderful rat chef

ON GOD

“Yeah. I’ll answer.” - bc 🥺😭

“You’re fucking Carmen!” - GOODBYEEEE. not carmen outing them YET AGAIN

“So fuck you, actually.” - 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

“Fuck off! I’m already coming to fucking Time Square with you, don’t be whiny.”  - this is giving when dwight was like ‘of course i’ll get that stuff for you so just shut up’

“I nominate Carmen.” “I second the nom.” - tag-team<33

Don’t fuck in a fuckin’ Holiday Inn Chip’s worth mo - he’s so sweet and yet so???

HE CALLED CHIP BABY I REPEAT

It's absolutely going in Carmen's top five favourite expressions of yours. - 🕊️🕊️🕊️

“Syd said she will be knocking violently if I’m not back at midnight on the dot, yeah.” - SQUID GIVING HER GF A CURFEW

THE BERF SHIRT

“God, it’s over—” - squidink is so over rn😔

“Baby, just say you’re happy for me.” - BABY. THEYRE SO BACK

squid can stab men, a little, as a treat

You hand her your water bottle when you spot her looking at it. - 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

her instinct is to call chip, oh OH oh

“I didn’t ask you to be great.” Syd says it before she thinks it, and it’s enough to make your eyes water - MINE ARE RUNNING TOO ACTUALLY

God you’re dehydrated - *careless whisper plays* i mean what I SAID NOTHING

squid out🦑🦑

“It’s so crazy that you think that’s gonna happen—” - I LOVEEE SHEEE

Your shoulders touch as you both stare at the ceiling. - CUTIES

She hums, pointing to the popcorn tiles - namedrop! jk…unless?

“Oh my fucking God it’s that bad—”- GET THEIR ASSES SQUID

In front of everyone, accidentally while saying goodbye, off-handedly while hanging up, over text, and so on and so forth. - all of those are cute actually

“Now it’s three.” “Fuck, it’s gaining interest?!” - WE’RE SO BACK!!!!

“Wait, what the fuck, Syd, say it back!” - REAL!!

this was so cute!! just them and their adventures

LETS. GET. ROLLLINNGGGG!!!! (papers!!!) (we both can do drug jokes in this house!!!) (there will be a wip under all this as a treat I promise)

I’m honestly shocked Charmin isn’t a canon nickname (yet!!), cause like. IT DOES SOUND LIKE CARMEN!!! AND THE TOILET PAPER BEARS!!! AND THE TOILET PAPER BEARS ARE BLUE NOW TOO!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!

You are frfr an oracle with your memes, occasionally I look at em like hmmmmm,,,, this is gonnna be a lot funnier after the next one. My comedic Nostradamus genius. (the secrets of the universe ARE in the popcorn ceiling!! U!!)

The benefit about writing about food for people who did not come for food is that I also don’t have to fully understand what I’m saying. Had to look at a wagyu chart and make a lot of assumptions. I am not going to make steak with pop rocks to find out if it’s any good.

OKAY WHAT THE FUCK I S RICHIE’S JOB I’M BEING SO FR I DO NOT !!! Carmen’s Exec, Syd’s CDC/Head, Richie is… HR/Co-Manager/Host??? No wonder he can afford fuckin eras tour tickets bro is getting THREE DIFFERENT PAYCHECKS WHAT!!! But this does make sense. Bro IS THEE Human Resource.

Had to look up photos of sheep cats. Yeah that’s him. That’s Carmen but a Cat for sure.

RAHH. The held back I love yous are very. Very rah. Theres a lot of thought behind them for me but I shant share because I feel like that may give too much away I fear?

Carmichael burrowski is brought to you by seeing Carmichael company vans a lot and Mae Burrowski from Night in the Woods. Thank u both for ur service.

I completely forgot about the ‘that’s fucked’ convo with Fak until I saw a gifset and went OH YEAH…. It IS fucked. They are so stupid. They are also both unable to say I love you because that would be WEIRD!!!!!!!

I am so happy with the incredibly funny smooch because it was very much to mimic Carmen’s —

I think funny kisses are the way to go. There is something very charming (CHARMIN!) to me about awkwardly expressed consent.

YOU DIDN’T PUT THE RATATOULLIE MEME IN THIS ONE FOR THE PUBLIC TO ENJOY AND FOR THAT!!! YOU’VE DEPRIVED OUR PEOPLE!! i knew if I was gonna make him watch ratatouille and have him relate, he’d have to relate to more than just remy.

I’ll call them and let them know you love them, promise. Whenever they get out of the bathroom.

Carmen 30-Year Old Virgin Berzatto— Or 28-29, time line is UNCLEAR!! Regardless, I couldn’t take away my man’s one W. He fumbles most people, I had to let him have the one he canonically got. And also it was too fun to consider him absolutely STEWING as Tony recounts her emotional relationship with Mikey, just thinking in the background “I need to tell her I am in fact. NOT . a virgin!” I hate this man.

I WANT YOU IN EVERY SENTENCEEE RRAAAWHWHWHEHE!!! Loved that. Loved writing that paragraph. Love love. Love wanting to have someone so intrinsically in your life that in order for someone to know you they have to know them. WOOOOOO!!!!!!!! Carmen give her a hickey before we have to confront the emotional implications, GET HER BOY!!

Well how much did you bet on syd being there because now I owe you

CHIPS GOT TWO HANDS FOR A REASON BABY!!! I’m kidding the triangle would never work. But they should try anyways.

Whole Richie scene makes me :)) it’s fun to navigate these two going through like, so many internal emotions obviously over Chip’s trauma dump, and deciding what Richie would actually take a moment to comment on. And I think it absolutely has to be the ‘imagine your friends are dead’, bro 100% HAD TO BE HELD BACK FROM RAMMING THE DOOR DOWN TRULY TRULY. Don’t imagine I’m fuckin dead cousin!!!!!! I’m not a fuckin ghost!!! Call me!!!!!!!!! I am literally your guy!!!!!

Watching season 3 and seeing half of the season unnecessarily focusing on a Handyman (Ted) really had me clutching my pearls like. Bro. where’s my baby. Who the fuck does this guy think he is. This is CHIP TURF!!

BIG SHOUT OUT TO SYDNEY ‘THE SQUID’ ‘SEXUALLY NORMAL’ ADAMU!~

Donna!! Donna!! Finally semi-time that I have to face my white whale of writing,,, da mom… I’m still mentally tackling how to write her, but we’ll get there when we get there…. (truly thought she was gonna fucking die this season I didn’t think I was gonna have to DEAL WITH IT!!)

Everyone simultaneously did a record scratch at ‘do you want to come up to my room’ and I think that’s beautiful. I think that’s everything I wanted and more. They can hang bro. and watch ratatouille. Like hang out and be normal and fantasize about easily removable aprons with monogramming done.

Carmen is a certified shoe in his mouth yapper. Sugar, hand the crown to your brother, you may step off your throne; because this fucker has gotten caught like three separate times simply by being himself.

VERY DWIGHT Very like, sibling texting ‘fuck you I hate you what do you want from mcdonalds im omw home’. That’s the Richip dynamic to me. And then they kill carm.

Chip baby!!! This is not a drill he finally called her a pet name!! men, to your stations! And she didn’t even have the brain to COMPUTE IT, alas.

The post squid scene was so tough I was like, ‘do I cut this and just end on carmen?’ but then I knew, I’d never write this scene, cause spoiler alert, we’re doing a very slight time skip. So like. I just wanted Squidink to have their actual last beat to their sad no contact era because!!! So many feelings to be had over not contacting your boy in forever!!! But god its so OVER!

‘Didn’t ask you to be great’ is SUCH a punch to the gut, esp for a people pleaser like Chip (or me, man). Like. Fuckin. GOD. It’s the same sentiment Richie had in Just Dropped with ‘I’d love you even if you weren’t useful’, but like, this side of it is pre-useful. Like. Not only would I love you if you weren’t useful, I would never ASK you to be useful. HELL.

All of those I love yous are cute you say? Well I will have to up my game in coming up with something truly mortifying, then.

Shout out to me, directing on set, and demanding that my crew says it back when I say I love you. Genuinely my ‘Heard’ is a reciprocated ‘I love you’. No one call Richie/HR.

also the memes. immaculate as always. AND THE AUTHOR/CHIP COMPARISON,,, ART IMITATES LIFE, what can i say? if carmen/chip manage to live together at a point i really can't imagine him denying anything she wants. i think he would only have opinions on the kitchen and maybe efficiency of moving through spaces. (WE NEED TO PUSH THE COFFEE TABLE BACK!!! SIDLING AGAINST IT TO GET TO THE COUCH IS CAUSING A 3.4 SECOND DELAY IN MOVIE TIME!!!!) psycho.

Anyways. As always, a pweasure to hear your thoughts. I am hoping next weekend will finally be the fucking weekend I put something out. It’s hard slugging through this next chapter because it’s basically our so much fucking dialogue chapter, and navigating action and meaning AROUND that has been a nightmare. I think I’m probably over thinking the fuck out of it, to be fair. I feel so bad making y’all wait, so here is a juicer snippet.

THANK YOU LOVE YOU APPRECIATE ALL UR PATIENCE AND ALL UR THOUGHTS I LOVE TO HEAR FROM YALL!!

[dickmedowndc]

Bad Days - Bart Allen x Reader

Word Count: 1,637

Summary: If the universe could just give you a break that would be great – reasonable, even, after everything that had been going on in your life. As it currently stood, that was a far-off dream. Everything had accumulated to this one moment. Stood before you was some new villain of the week, unrecognizable, whom you had been lucky enough to stumble upon during his escape. You didn’t care to know who it was – just intent on getting out of the situation before ending up a hostage. 

Notes: I need this to sort of vent. Unlike the reader in here though, at least my phone was found. Did I run across to grab it out of the road? Sure. Should I have? Mm, maybe not. 

…★…

Of course. 

Of course, this is how your life was going for the moment. It had been an interesting enough few days to say the least. Your car had determined that it was no longer going to work for you – instead deciding to idle while your foot was on the gas before shuddering and forcing you to pull off on the side of the road. You were thankful enough the breaks were still up to doing their job. It had been one attempted fix after the other and your finances were beginning to look bleaker than normal if the current trend continued. At least without another paycheck due soon and rent due even quicker. Then in the glorious process of setting your phone on the hood while you checked over the tires, you had failed to remember the device only to realize later, after the tow-truck had dropped you off, that it was likely slung onto the road or somewhere in the abyss beside it. Never for your eyes to see again. 

After days of little else going your way, you were done. With only $5 left in your account, you couldn’t miss another shift at work. No matter how badly you wanted to call out. So that left one thing to do – pull on your uniform and walk the entire way there. Something you were less than keen to do in the humidity and sun, but your options remained far too limited. 

It was slow going, admittedly, running across roads and weaving through people. Desperate for a little reprieve from the sweltering heat beating down on you, the choice to cut through the back alleys was easy enough. You knew this area like the back of your hand, and you knew you had plenty of time, if the old phone your roommate had let you use was anything to be trusted. 

But maybe you should have paid more attention to your surroundings. Walking on autopilot, you paid no mind to the commotion ahead, writing it off as normal Central City excitement. An unfortunate misstep, you realize, when you feel yourself collide with a solid body. 

The shock has you reeling for a moment, blinking up in surprise – making dead eye contact with a man dressed in a gaudy outfit who seems just as caught off-guard as you do. 

It’s a moment longer: one, two, three. And then ‘click,’ you realize exactly what is about to happen. Standing before you is some new super villain. Not a Central City regular, at least not yet if so, because you don’t recognize the device at his side or his outfit. Much less him. And you feel the dread settle in your stomach as you watch the light behind his eyes come on; you, in all of your underpaid, sweaty, too-done-with-the-universe-right-now self has just volunteered as a hostage. In reality, you had the moment you took the backways. 

You have to wonder in that moment if the pros outweigh the cons: Pros, the Flash family seem cool enough that one might even run you to work afterwards – and oh, now that you think about it, that is approximately one single pro; the cons, however, you’re not in any mood to be dealing with someone who just crawled out of “Food Weekly for Villains,” you’re not in any condition to be meeting a hero, and you don’t want to show up to work roughed up more than your commute is leaving you. 

You try to make a break for it, gaze set past him before moving to enter into a dead-sprint. But the cogs in his brain seem to finally be turning, which you guess explains the smell of smoke, and he catches you – just barely. But it is enough to throw you off balance and pull you back flush against himself, one arm wrapped tight around your neck. 

You don’t know who he is, you don’t know what he’s capable of. Plenty of dangerous villains look like they got their outfits at a knock-off Halloween store, but they still prove to be deadly foes. It isn’t worth it to risk angering him, as giddy as he seems now, you worry that his mood could change in an instant if you try to escape. Choosing then the better option, especially with limited airflow, to keep your mouth zipped and listen to the monologue he had begun. 

“I left a note for those speedy rats – and now when they show up, I’ll have even more leverage because of you. Who knew Central City would be so easy! A step up from Gotham!” He hollered, causing you to flinch as he waved his weapon in the air, tightening his grip. 

Of course, he had come from Gotham. Of course. 

You had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes, just in case your captor decided to look at you when you did so. That seemed like something that the world would set up right now. 

But too busy thinking of how to tune out the shrill joy of the man holding you hostage, and trying to leverage how much damage you would cause yourself trying to bust his shin, you notice a moment later than he does when a gust of wind hits and the hand that held his weapon is suddenly empty. It’s when he stops to stare at his weaponless hand that you finally notice something is wrong, before realizing someone new is standing in front of you. 

“Looking for this, Condiment King?” 

Your mind blanks for a moment. Condiment King? You had heard of him. Most people had. Some C-list hack of a villain out in Gotham. 

You got taken hostage by fucking Condiment King? 

As though the last few days and the fact you were going to be late for work from stepping straight into a criminal plan hadn’t proven to be embarrassing enough, now you were finding out you were being held hostage by one of the worst villains to exist. In front of the most attractive speedster, you realize when you get a better look at the hero before you – Impulse. 

Maybe this was a sign that you should move, you reason silently in your head. 

The illusion was broken when Condiment King finally seemed to realize what was happening. “It doesn’t matter, I still have a hostage.” He seemed sure of himself, as smug and almost as giddy as he had been the moment that he had grabbed you. 

He tightened his hold around your neck for a moment while he spoke; you grabbed at his arm, trying to pry it away from yourself enough to keep breathing. You had to give him credit though, he was stronger than he looked, and you weren’t in the best position already. A second later you could breathe, thinking he had loosened his hold on you until you realized that your surroundings had changed. Though your back was still flush against someone’s chest, you were no longer staring at Impulse, but at Condiment King, with an arm protectively swung around your shoulders. 

You didn’t need to see the speedster to hear the amused and taunting tone in his voice when he next spoke. “What hostage?” 

“That isn’t fair, you-” 

Condiment King’s words were cut off in the next moment, and between blinks he was gone. A gust of wind and a trail of electricity left in his wake before Impulse stood before you once more, a satisfied grin on his face. “Are you okay?” 

“Uh,” you paused, trying to wrap your head around what all had just happened. “Aside from being late to work, yeah.” As you spoke you began to pat down your pockets, ensuring the few items that had been on you still were – thankful to find that was the case. 

“Need a lift?” 

“If you’re not too busy then please,” you practically begged, shoulders slumping in defeat. 

“Where to?” 

You told him where your job was and began to regret your decision when you saw the sly smile on his lips. “Hold on.” 

“Hold o-” You never got to finish your sentence, instead ending it with a squeak when he lifted you up, instinctively throwing your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what I was expecting, honestly.” You admitted in surprise. Not that you minded. 

It wasn’t that it took long for him to get you to work, but it almost felt like it should have taken even less time, not that you had really paid attention when you shut your eyes the moment he started moving. 

The other thing you probably should have considered was that he was going to drop you off directly in front of your job. Where all of your coworkers and the patrons could see you. 

As you were being held. By Impulse. Who was waiting for you to stop tensing so he could let you down safely. You did so, mostly avoiding looking too awkward before thanking him. 

“Not an issue,” he assured. “Sorry I couldn’t get you here faster, but I don’t think your manager will be too mad.” 

“Maybe I should just start getting kidnapped more often then if it gets me a free ride from you.” 

He seemed surprised by your comment before his same amused grin returned even brighter this time. “There’s easier ways to get my attention,” he promised before winking and taking off. 

His words left you frozen for a moment before they finally set in. “Oh,” you said, though it was to nobody but the air. Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself for the assured onslaught of questions to be faced once you went inside – trying to decide if you should admit just who had taken you hostage to begin with. Though, you mused, maybe it was worth it today after all. 

[hsdiaries]

‘til forever

chapter one - 3.3k

master list

I used to judged my therapists, based on how their offices were decorated. Plants and warm tones meant they were safe and understanding. Clean lines and modern furniture meant they were there for just a paycheck. Obviously, this wasn't a set in stone fact, but the concept and idea worked in my mind. It worked as a way to avoid therapy for months - until I walked into Jackie's office. Rugs and pleasing mixed patterns, scattered green plants and mix matched thrifted furniture. Her office screamed care and compassion, so I couldn't walk away any longer. I no longer had a valid excuse other than I was scared to deal with everything. I was scared to deal with the fact, Louis was dead.

"You know, if I close my eyes, that night plays back in my memory like a nightmare I can't escape. I remember the look on Niall's face when he came to our house to let me know what had happened. He didn't even have to say anything for me to know something was wrong. His eyes" I paused, swallowing, inhaling sharply, "His eyes were blank, as if no words or emotion could describe what he was feeling at the moment - like there wasn't a feeling known to us that could describe the ache he was carrying in his heart."

"Are you still close with, Niall?" Jackie asked, sipping tea from a giant orange mug, definitely meant for noodles and not tea.

"Yes. He's the only one of our friends I still talk to." I said, fiddling with the hole on my jeans, the threads barely hanging on. These light washed pair of jeans were as old as my relationship with Louis had been and carried the same amount of wear and tear that our relationship had developed over its four year time span.

"Did you two heal together then?" She asked, and I nodded, palms running down the tops of my thighs.

"In a way...we used to talk about it, a lot. But, neither of us dealt with it professionally. I think we held on to the idea that - as long as we talked about what happened over and over, it would eventually not hurt. Or be easy to process. But, obviously I'm here so," I shrugged, licking my lips, cracking a small smile to break any awkwardness I seemed to always create.

"Well I'm glad you came here. I think loss always hurts, we just get it to a place that's bearable." She smiled as a small beep was heard, signifying our hour was up, "Same time next week?"

I pressed my lips tightly, nodding, "Yeah,"

"See you then Bentley." She smiled as we both stood, walking out of her small office. 

In the waiting room was Niall, his brows furrowed as he worked through the next puzzle in his crossword puzzle book, glasses barely hanging onto the bridge of his nose. His eyes flickered up momentarily, his face softening the instant we locked eyes.

"Ben, all done talking about your feelings?" He teased, pushing his glasses on the top of his head. Niall hated the idea of therapy, and speaking to a person who, in his own words, just wrote down your feelings to paraphrase them back to you and pretend they are giving meaning to them. I wouldn't say I completely disagreed with him, but sometimes, that's what I thought a human needed. Someone to sort out their feelings and explain it right back to them.

Though, I wasn't really sure anyone could explain my feelings back to me. I wasn't exactly sure how someone could bring any justification to the fact that Louis wasn't here anymore. How could anyone truly make me understand the reason why he couldn't walk home safely. Understand why someone would pull a gun on him, and shoot him. Once in the chest, and twice in the head.

All I understood was, the man who murdered him wanted to make sure he was successful. 

It had only been six months since that night in November, our final phone call playing constantly in my head.

-

Thanksgiving Night

"Baby, there aren't any fresh cranberries left. But I promise, I can make the canned one taste just as great," Louis puffed over the phone, the hustle of the store could be heard in the background.

"Louis, this is why I asked you to get them earlier this week. Canned doesn't taste the same. It's never going to fool anyone," I said, basting the turkey one final time before closing the oven.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. You're right, B. I should have gone when you asked. Look, I'll try that overpriced shop on the corner before the house, okay? If not, I swear, no one will know the difference." He cooed over the phone, trying to soften me up, and of course it worked.

I took a deep breath, realizing I was being too much, on the day I should be most thankful for what I have, "No baby. You know what, just come home-"

"-No, B, I screwed up. I'm going to make it better. That's what I do, remember?" He said, and I could hear his smile through the phone, soon reflecting on my face as well.

"You do make everything better, sweet boy. Okay. Um, call Niall while you're at it? He's almost here and maybe you two can meet up. I know he was walking over with two casserole trays and I love him but-.."

"..-he's the clumsiest ever?" Louis chuckled, making me laugh.

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll be there soon. I love you, B."

"I love you too, sweet boy."

Niall never met up with him. He heard it all happen over the phone. By the time he found him, Louis was already dead.

-

"So you still want to grab an early dinner?" Niall said, his arm moving around my shoulders, crossword book stuck under his arm, pencil behind his ear. He looked so sharp, pressed shirt, soft sweater over it. I loved how he always smelled so clean, a twinge of apricot always seemed to mix into the smell of fresh sheets on his skin.

"Ummm, as long as it's Rizzo's, then yes. I'm in need of a giant pastrami sammy." I smiled up at him, as always, counting the dark flecks of blue that filled his crystal seas.

"Ben wants pastrami, Ben gets pastrami. Come on then," he smiled, leading me out of the office.

Niall had been Louis's best friend since middle school when Louis moved to the states from London. They hated each other on Louis's first day and by the second day they were inseparable. In my mind, that's why he stuck around, never letting me push him away like I had with Mitch, Pauli and everyone else. In my mind, he stuck around because he felt like he owed it to Louis.

He was my best friend now. The reality of it being, he was my only friend. When I isolated myself from everyone, he waited outside my bubble until he realized he needed to pop it and save me from myself. 

My mother had other ideas, constantly alluding to the idea that Niall and I were meant to be together. That the universe knew we needed each other, bonding us for life.

Personally I hated when she made that statement, making me constantly feel like Louis had died for a reason. That reason being Niall and I being together. It was disgusting and made my heart ache in ways I couldn't even describe.

As we entered Rizzo's, I pushed free of Niall gently, walking over to the picture of Louis on the wall from when he won their Massive Sub Eating challenge, kissing my fingers and pressing them against his framed face. He looked handsome as ever, straight hairs on his forehead, facial hair adorned with mustard or marinara, I couldn't remember anymore.

"Miss you babe." I whispered, turning to face the kitchen as loud banging could be heard from the back. A couple dishes could be seen flying up through the order window.

"Holy anchovies, what did I do now!" I heard Linda exclaim from the other side, Niall and I looking at each other and snickering. Linda was the owner of Rizzo's, inherited from and named after her grandfather, Rizzo Manger.

"You alright back there Linds?" I called out as I approached the breakfast bar.

"Is that my Benny girl! Did you bring the leprechaun with you? Clearly I need some luck on my side." She said, her face finally popping up in the order window. Her voice always sounded like she had smoked one pack too many, though she never had a day in her life.

"You know, most Irish people would have sued you for discrimination or something of the sort for that kind of name calling!" Niall teased, Linda shrugging.

"Thankfully you love my subs way too much to even think about that, right?" She chuckled, making Niall roll his eyes as we took our usual seats at the breakfast bar. My eyes looked down at the carving of our initials, 

"L + B + N = 2KFS"

I traced over it with my fingers laughing a bit. Niall looked over, leaning in close to me, "Too cool for school-we were such idiots." He laughed a bit, his finger moving to trace over the end my finger wasn't until they met in the middle. His face so close to mine, I could smell his aftershave even stronger than before.

"New shampoo?" He said, moving back to his seat, looking over the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order.

"Huh?" I said, leaning on my hand and raising an eyebrow.

"Your hair smells different today." He muttered, glancing over slightly. Before I could answer, Linda walked over to us, order pad in hand.

"What can I get you two?" She says, already writing our order down without us even answering.

"Steak, rare, with lots of carrots on the side," I tease, Niall joining in shortly after.

"I'll take a burger, just the lettuce and tomato please."

"You both think you're great comedians don't you? One pastrami sam, one mari sub, and two large cokes coming right up." She winked before walking away.

"So, Mitch got a new girlfriend." Niall said, turning in his stool to face me completely.

"Oh, that's nice," I smiled a bit, moving my gaze back down to my phone. I clicked the home screen showing no missed notifications, Niall being the only person who ever sent me anything.

"He asked if we wanted to meet up with them, Chase and Pauli. Get some beers and play pool tonight," I turned to face him, his baby blues filled with so much hope.

"Mmm, I have to organize my pantry. Tomorrow is grocery day, so I have to make sure of what I need and that there is room for new things." I said, pushing hair behind my ear.

"Ben...your pantry?" He said, his face filled with disbelief at my excuse.

"Niall, just...no, okay? You go. Don't push your friends away for me. Go hang out with them, come back and tell me all about Mitch's girl." I smiled, trying to reassure him as much as I possibly could.

"They are your friends too, you know?" He said gently, knowing it was a touchy subject for me.

"Niall. Please." I swallowed, looking back down at my phone, unlocking it and aimlessly scrolling on social media.

"I'm just saying Ben, it's been six months. They gave you the space you obviously needed, but...you need friends Bentley. And they miss you."

"I have friends. I have you. And Linda. And Pug. Pug is the best listener too." I said, pulling out a photo of my corgi making Niall have to attempt to hold back his smile.

"You are...," shaking his head while rolling his eyes, he reached over, pulling me tightly against him. He pressed his lips into the top of my head, making me relax into him.

I couldn't begin to explain how grateful I was for Niall. The way he had stepped up these past six months for me, was everything. We were bonded in this traumatic experience and no matter how hard I tried, he never allowed me to push him away.

During that first week, he wouldn't leave me alone. He was over everyday, even if I didn't want him here. Using the spare key Louis gave him, he would march in, make sure I was fed, bathed and resting. If I asked to be alone, he would leave me in my bedroom while he remained in the living room. He kept my home tidy, stocking it with everything I may need.

Eventually I joined him in the living room. Eventually we talked about Louis. Eventually he made me laugh again. It was like he was finding ways to streamline my pain into other things, reminding me that I had to continue to live.

Because it was what Louis would have wanted.

He couldn't make me hang out with our old friends, that was the only thing he failed at. It wasn't that I didn't miss them; it was simply that I didn't want to have to speak about Louis. I didn't want to rehash emotions with each one of them individually. I had that with Niall, that's all I needed and all I could handle. Maybe it was selfish of me, maybe it made me lack compassion; but it was all I could handle right now.

Linda brought us our food, each of us digging in, and I was grateful when Niall didn't bring it up again. Instead, we talked about Harry Potter. It was the first time he was watching the series, having just sat down with me through the first and second. I explained to him the differences between the book and the movie, small pouts when he wished that they would have kept certain things in. We argued about him being a Gryffindor, me emphasizing that he was too much of a Golden Retriever to be a Gryffindor. He glared at me, throwing chips at me making me cackle.

"You are clearly a Hufflepuff and that's okay. Personally I think they are the underrated house at Hogwarts." I shrugged, dusting away the chip crumbs.

"So you think I'm underrated? That my amazingness isn't valued at its true potential?" He wiggled his eyebrows, making me reach over and shove him.

"Niall James, be quiet." I laughed, his hand catching my arm and pulling me just a bit closer to him.

"Facts are facts, Bentley Rose and I know you only speak truths." He titled his head slightly, his smile big, then soft as he took in my face.

I wasn't an idiot. I was aware of the certain heat that rose between the two of us at times. The sparks that searched for enough friction to try and burst into flames. I was also aware it was all bonded through trauma. Which wasn't healthy. Which wasn't what I wanted nor needed.

Above all, I couldn't handle loving after Louis, another reason I pushed everyone out.

I cleared my throat pulling back, "We should go so you're not late. You're going tonight and I don't want any excuses!" I said pointing my finger at him, making him laugh.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he rolled his eyes. We finished, paying the check and walking outside to the warm summer air, my eyes closing at the pleasant feel of it.

"So you are absolutely sure?" He asked, grabbing my waist gently, pulling me slightly towards him.

"I just don't want to deal with all the, 'How are you really doing?' and hearing how much people miss Louis. I know it's selfish...I just..."

"I get it, Ben, you're fine," he pulled me closer, our hips pressing together, "You have your mace? Taser?"

"Check and check, location is on, and I will text you when I get home," I smiled, my hand pushing back his thick mousy brown hair.

"Okay, you know I care for ya?"

"I know, I care for you too," I smiled, kissing his cheek, before pushing away from him softly, "Have fun, be safe...get laid?" I giggled, shrugging my shoulders as I backed away, turning around and heading home.

Walking down the familiar path, I reached into my purse, pulling out my keys and placing one between my fingers. I hated that my mind was always set to the defense, but after Louis being murdered the way he was, I wasn't taking my chances. I never wore headphones, I paid attention to the footsteps that surrounded my own, their pace, their distance.

And that's why I was in therapy.

I moved down the street, like clockwork, my heart started beating faster as I approached the block before the expensive store on the corner. I stopped, normally turning right on Baker St. and taking the long way around to get home. It was so unnecessary, but I couldn't get past the idea of picturing how it happened. It had been described to me from so many different angles during the investigation, I couldn't help but feel like I would enter a movie scene I couldn't escape if I walked past the store.

And that's why I was in therapy.

I chewed on my lower lip, looking down the street, my feet moving forward before I realized what I had just decided. Before I realized that for some reason, I felt brave tonight, moving closer and closer to the shop. I stopped at the window, the shop name etched into the glass in a beautiful gold.

"Posh Finery"

Taking a deep breath, I moved inside quickly, heading to the little cafe in the corner. I pinched my lip as I looked over the pastries for sale. They had some prepackaged and ready to go, while others were meant to be picked out from behind the glass display. I spotted the last chocolate croissant, pairing it with an iced matcha seemed like the perfect way to end my night. I moved to reach for the chocolate croissant, a tattooed hand reaching at the same time. I jumped back slightly, bringing my hand quickly to my chest.

"Sorry, sorry. You can have it," I pressed my lips tight into a smile.

"No drama, kid. Take it," I heard the tattooed hand say before my eyes traveled up to take in the rest of him. I felt my eyes widen, not in shock from his appearance, olive skin, long hair, piercing green eyes that sat under furrowed brows; but by his use of a phrase I had only ever heard come from Louis' mouth.

"Excuse me? What did you say?" I stood straight, taking in his eyes as he raised a small eyebrow and chuckled a bit.

"It's means no worr-..."

"...-no I know what it means, I've just...sorry. I um, I only ever head one person use that phrase and it caught me off guard," I exhaled, my cheeks burning as I quickly grabbed a bear claw, "You can have the croissant. These are just as good anyways." I smiled, walking past him to the cashier.

"Thanks," he called out, and I turned over my shoulder nodding a bit. I ordered my matcha, handing them the bear claw to be heated up. After paying I walked over and sat at a table, waiting for my drink, watching the man pay for the croissant. He glanced over at me, holding it up and giving me a small nod before making his way out the door.

As he moved past, I couldn't help but envision Louis walking out in the same manner. Fresh cranberries in hand, making the quick turn before heading up to our home. I swallowed, shaking the thought from my head. 

It never happened. He never even made it in the store.