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tortillamastersblog · 6 months ago

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♕ No Matter What - Part 6 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: It seems as though you’re not the only one who’d like to leave the past in the past.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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“Here you go, Jess,” I say, setting a cup on her table.

She looks up with a rare smile and takes it. “Thank you, Y/N.”

I nod in acknowledgment and take a sip of my own coffee. “So, what’s the boss up to?” I ask.

Jess checks her laptop. “Uh… I’m not so sure. She doesn’t have a meeting until 3, so I don’t know what she’s doing right now. I heard her on the phone while you were on your coffee run though.”

“So you think I can go in?” I gesture in the direction of Lena’s door.

Jess shrugs.

I take that as a yes and knock on the shiny white door before entering after a beat of silence.

“Ms. Luthor?” I frown. She’s not at her desk or on her couch. I step further into the office and look around the corner but she’s not at her bar either. “Ms. Lu—“

My words die in my throat when I see her hunched over on the balcony outside, her back turned to me. I quickly set my cup on her desk and go outside.

“Ms. Luthor?” I ask tentatively, a cool breeze hitting my face.

She stiffens for a second before turning around and that’s when I see it. The running mascara, her bloodshot eyes, and the dejected look on her face.

My stomach drops and I take a step forward. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Lena just shakes her head, biting her lip to prevent a sob from escaping.

I take another step forward and tentatively reach for her. “What is it? Talk to me.”

Lena’s chin wobbles and more tears spring to her eyes, making my concern grow. She parts her lips to say something, but only a whimper escapes.

She rushes forward in the blink of an eye and throws her arms around my shoulders, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

Stunned, I hesitated to return the embrace, but then her body shakes with a sob and I can’t help but pull her closer.

“Hey, hey, hey…” I whisper against her temple. “It’s going to be alright. Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Lena claws at my clothes and breathes shakily. Her tears seep into the collar of my shirt, but I don’t mind. I just hold her close and let her feel what she’s feeling.

“My brother…” she whispers against my skin, her voice breaking with emotion. “He–“ I hold my breath in anticipation–“He escaped from prison.”

Well, shit.

“How?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around this new information.

Lena shrugs and lets out a strangled breath. “I don’t know, but he just called and– “ anther sob shakes her body and her grip on me tightens– “he said see you soon, sis before hanging up.”

An unmeasurable amount of anger floods through me and I grind my teeth to stop myself from storming off and dealing with that bald, good-for-nothing son of a bitch myself. Lena’s been through enough and now, thinking she was finally free of him, he comes crashing back into her life to do God knows what.

“I’m scared, Y/N,” Lena whimpers against my neck and it stokes my anger even more.

She’s one of the most amazing people I know. She’s smart, funny, and kind, and she doesn’t deserve all this shit life is giving her.

“Ms. Luthor.” I pause. The last thing she needs right now is a reminder that she’s a Luthor. So, I try something I haven’t done before. “Lena,” I say hesitantly, running my hands over her back.

Her breath hitches but nothing else happens, so I continue. “Lena, listen to me. I swear that as long as I’m around, your brother will not get anywhere near you. You hear me? I won’t let that happen. As long as I’m around, you’re safe. I promise. ”

Lena pulls back to meet my eyes while her arms stay wrapped around my shoulders. “You promise?” She sniffles and searches my face for any trace of a lie.

“No matter what,” I say, surprising myself in the process. I’ve never said that to anyone except Sam and maybe Ruby once or twice.

Lena’s green eyes flicker back and forth between mine before dropping to my lips for a split second. It’s so quick, I almost think I imagined it, but then she does it again.

My stomach flips at the action and I can’t help but mirror it. Lena seems to notice because curiosity and some hesitation flits across her face. Her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, but in the end she doesn’t act on her impulse.

Instead she exhales and closes her eyes, letting her forehead rest against my collarbone. “Thank you…”

I rub her back again and only pull back when she loosens her grip on me. She smiles sadly and I mirror it, using my thumb to wipe away the rest of her tears.

“Okay?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

She nods and runs her hands over her blouse to smooth it down. “Okay.”

After Lena’s breakdown I stayed in her office with her while she worked. Not only to keep her company but also to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s fine.

Sam stopped by a couple of times to ask Lena something about a business deal and gave me a knowing look every time she left.

Now I’m just getting out of the shower after a late night gym session. The whole time I was there, going to town on the punching bag, I pictured Lex’s face in front of me. That smug, ghoulish, punch able face. I will keep my promise to Lena. He will not touch even a single hair on her head.

I dry myself off and put on some sweatpants and a hoodie, going to the kitchen to make myself a protein shake. It’s the middle of the night and I already had dinner, but after the workout I just put myself through I’m starving.

I drink it in a couple of big gulps and place the empty bottle in the dishwasher before going to bed. I know I won’t be getting much sleep because my mind is working overtime right now, but I have to at least try to get some shut eye.

I turn off all the lights and shut the open window, slipping under the covers of my bed with a sigh.

How did Lex manage to escape from prison? I thought something like that was only possible in books or movies. Well, looks like I thought wrong.

I go over the extra security measures we put in place for Lena, ranging from several more cameras around her buildings to extra guards stationed outside her apartment building.

The chances of anyone getting past all of that are basically zero. But then again, the chances of escaping from prison nowadays are also basically zero and Lex Luthor has managed to do exactly that.

I toss and turn as sleep continues to elude me, until my phone lights up on the nightstand. I sit up and grab it, not knowing what to expect.

It’s Lena.

My eyes widen and I quickly accept the call.

Did something happen? Is she hurt? Is it Lex? Did he manage to get to her?

“Lena, are you alright?” I blurt out, foregoing any pleasantries.

“I— Yeah, I’m alright…” The reply is quiet and soft. I exhale, relieved, and sit up so I can lean back against the headboard.

“Then what is it?” I ask gently.

There’s a pause at the other end of the line and I take my phone away from my ear to make sure the call hasn’t disconnected.

“I can’t sleep,” Lena admits with a sniffle. “And I’m scared, Y/N. I’m so scared.”

The thought of her being alone in her dark apartment, scared and crying has me getting out of bed immediately. I turn on the light and put Lena on speaker while I grab an empty duffel bag from under the bed.

“I know, I know. Just hang on. ” I shove a change of clothes and some toiletries into the bag. “I’m on my way.”

“W-What? No, you don’t have to do that, Y/N.” Lena tries to reason, but I’m not having it.

I shake my head even though she can’t see me and zip up the bag. I sling it over my shoulder and slip on my shoes by the door, leaving the apartment to hail down a cab outside “Nonsense. I told you I’d be there whenever you need me.”

“I…Okay.” Lena gives in with another sniffle. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” I say. “Now, do you want to stay on the phone with me, or is it okay if I hang up?”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Lena denies and I assure her once more that I’ll be there in no time before hanging up to tell the cab driver where to go.

When I get to the apartment building the security guard by the door nods in acknowledgment and lets me inside without a word.

I ride the elevator up to the top floor and get out, using my keycard to open the door to the familiar apartment.

“Lena?” I call out into the dark. “Where are you?”

A lamp turns on to my right and if it weren’t for my concern I’d have been startled.

Lena’s sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her face is makeup-free and she’s wearing a matching set of blue striped pajamas.

“Hey,” I say softly, taking off my shoes before crossing the room.

Lena’s vulnerable and bloodshot eyes meet mine and she mumbles a tired, “Hi.”

My insides melt and I stop in front of the couch with open arms. Lena gets up immediately and sinks into my embrace. I sigh and rest my chin on the top of her head.

“Thank you for coming,” she says again my chest.

I squeeze her in my arms and guide the two of us to sit down on the couch without breaking the hug. “Always. Now, how about we watch a movie?” I ask.

Lena wiggles around and shifts her blanket so it’s covering both our legs before settling back into my side. “Yes, please. Can we watch Titanic?”

I chuckle and grab the remote, turning on the TV to find the movie. “Sure.”

Once I’ve found it and hit play, I settle back into the couch and start drawing shapes onto Lena’s back. She seems to like it because she lets out a content sigh and rests her head on my shoulder.

We watch the movie in silence for quite some time before I look down to see how Lena’s doing. That’s when I notice that her eyes are closed and her breathing has shallowed. She’s asleep.

A small smile makes its way onto my face and I turn down the TV’s volume to make sure she doesn’t wake up. Then, my mind finally at peace now that Lena is okay, I close my own eyes and let sleep overcome me.

The sound of my phone buzzing wakes me up. I blink repeatedly and go to sit up to take it from the coffee table but then I remember where I am and who’s soundly asleep on my chest.

Her dark hair is everywhere, some stands of it are even on my face which I gently brush away as I stretch to get my phone without getting up.

Harper.

I freeze. We haven’t spoken since my dad kicked me out.

What could she possibly want now? Blame me some more for her fiancé’s death? My baby brother’s death?

I send the call to voicemail and put my phone back down with a growing lump in the back of my throat.

Stop, this is not the time to cry.

I take a shuddering breath and squeeze my eyes shut. My hand instinctively reaches up to stroke Lena’s back and I do my best to push my emotions down.

It doesn’t work as well as I hoped it would though because a few moments later, Lena stirs. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, adjusting to the brightness for a moment. Then, in no hurry to get away from me, she places her hand on my chest and lifts her head.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asks quietly when she notices my watery eyes and my shaky breathing.

I quickly use the hand that’s not on her back to wipe at my eyes. I clear my throat and smile as best as I can as I lie and say, “Nothing, sorry. Just a bad dream.”

Lena furrows her eyebrows, obviously not believing what I just said. Her eyes dart between mine as if she’s trying to find an honest explanation in them, but it seems she comes up short because she sighs and averts her gaze.

She sits up, much to my dismay, and runs her hand through her. “What time is it? We have to be at the office at ten. I have an interview schedule with Kara about my brother’s untimely prison break.”

She seems exhausted if the bitterness in her voice is anything to go by. I know it’s not because of Kara though. She’s honestly one of the sweetest people I know, and she’s an even better reporter.

I check my phone for the time, only for it to start buzzing again right as I pick it up. This time no one’s calling though. It’s a reminder I set after my meltdown at Sam’s.

All it says is Noah with a flower bouquet emoji next to it because I want to put flowers on his grave the day before the actual anniversary of his death, so I don’t run the chance of crossing paths with my parents or Harper.

I hastily try to swipe it away because I don’t want Lena to see, but when I look up her eyes are glued to my phone. Then, they snap up to meet my own and the hurt in her eyes makes my insides twist.

“Who’s Noah?” she asks and the fact that she pulls away completely and stands up with betrayal written all over her face tells me that she’s completely misreading this situation.

Shit. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

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Here you go, guys!! Wow it’s taken me forever to write this. Thanks for bearing with me… (Proofreading will be done over the course of the next couple of days)

Anyway, here’s the tag list I’ve been asked about:

@nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy

#x reader #fluff #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #dc universe #dcu #supergirl cw

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bagopucks · 2 years ago

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C. Caufield - Misunderstand Us

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Cole Caufield x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning(s); insults, cursing, arguments and fighting.

Not exactly enemies to lovers, but enemies to ‘on the way to lovers’

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The soundtrack of Grease played through my earbuds as I pulled a sweatshirt on and stepped out of my bedroom. The cool wood floor greeted my once warm feet as I walked down the hall and eventually down the steps. The Hughes lake house was too quiet. Especially for it being the middle of the day, with more than three boys inside. When Quinn invited me, I only agreed because I hadn’t planned my own vacation. I never imagined how difficult it would be to live in a house with guys everywhere. I knew though, that the silence was the consequences of horrible hangovers from a night of heavy drinking. They were all either still in bed, or slinking around somewhere like zombies.

My only lifeline was Ellen when she came to visit. My sweet relief was seeing her car in the driveway on some afternoons, to free me from the testosterone filled prison that was the lake house.

When I heard a thud, I was quick to pull one of my earbuds out. The noise came from the kitchen, and I assumed that’s where I would find the boys.

I rushed into the doorway, and drew in a deep breath to greet them- until I realized the room was empty. Aside from one blonde haired boy on his knees, on the counter.

“Damnit!” I heard him mutter. Cole. The one guy I simply couldn’t get along with.

“Keep reaching, sweets.” I immediately spoke, startling the blonde- who almost fell off the counter when I startled him.

He turned his body to look back at me, surprise melting into distaste.

“Shut up.” He glared before he looked back at the cabinet he was trying to reach the back of. The cereal cabinet. I smirked and shook my head.

I never meant to have an issue with Cole. My hatred simply developed when we first met. He was very forward.. flirtatious and cocky. I couldn’t stand it. Apparently he didn’t like my attitude much either. In my defense, I was used to guys being horribly up front and unnecessarily close to me. I expected Cole to have a little more class considering his friends were all decent humans. I had been incredibly wrong.

“Where’s everybody else?” I asked as he finally got ahold of the cereal and hopped down from the counter. Though I’d never say anything to him, I did hate whoever made the decision to put the cereal in an overhead cabinet. I especially hated Trevor for pushing all the cereals to the back the day prior, when I had been trying to grab a box.

“Still in bed.” Cole set the box down on the counter. “Why are you up?”

“I don’t know.. let me think about it.” I placed my finger on my chin, feigning cluelessness before I walked over to the blinds and reached for the string hanging by them. One tug, and that beautiful sunlight came shining in.

Cole groaned and reached up to rub his eyes.

“Oh yeah! That’s why I’m up.” I pointed outside.

“Fuck you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.” I walked past him toward the kitchen door, and swiped the box of cereal on the counter as well. “Have fun getting another box, Colton,” I teased, waving the cereal box in the air like a trophy as I left the kitchen.

“That’s not my name!”

It was not the first tense encounter we had, but I never assumed it to be Cole’s breaking point.

“You know what?” I flinched at the sound of his voice. He had never been a particularly deep speaker, but that didn’t change how intimidating it was to hear him so angry.

I clutched the cereal box in both hands and slowly turned just as I had stepped onto the first step of the staircase.

Cole stormed out of the kitchen and toward the steps.

“I’m so sick of your shit!”

I raised a brow at him.

“Relax, Cole.” Perhaps my tone didn’t have to be as nonchalant. I could understand how much worse my seeming carelessness made the situation the second I saw Cole clench his fists.

“No! I’m so sick of relaxing! I never did a single thing to you! I don’t even know how Quinn stands you!” I heard the sound of a door opening, and felt my cheeks flush from embarrassment. I dreaded seeing the face of whoever would come down the steps.

I wasn’t that unbearable, was I? I didn’t treat anybody else as harshly as I treated Cole. He simply rubbed me the wrong way. And it wasn’t like the insults and harsh words were one sided.

“I’d say I don’t know how Jack can tolerate you, but let’s be honest.. he’s about the nicest and most easygoing guy I know. You’re probably just somebody he keeps around out of pity.” I could see the flash of hurt in his features before anger quickly replaced it. Somehow, I felt powerful knowing I had struck a chord.

I wasn’t the type to enjoy the power of hurting people, but it did ease my mind to know I had one upped him in this battle of insults.

“What the hell is going on?” I finally heard the person at the top of the steps. Oddly enough, it was Trevor.

“Nothing, Trevor. Cole’s being a fucking asshole.” I threw my arms down to my sides and turned to storm up the steps. Trevor knew better than to stop me. He stepped out of my way when I made it to the top.

“Cole? Buddy?” Though Trevor spared me a nervous glance, I was not the one he spoke to. He swiftly disappeared down the stairs to greet his blonde friend.

I could hear movement in both Jack and Quinn’s rooms as I walked by, and I made quick work of getting into my room to change. I needed a day away from the boys and the noise. Cole and his stupid attitude. All the stress.

Quinn promised I’d have a fun vacation. It didn’t seem so fun now.

I shouldn’t have slammed the door, a fact made known to me the second I heard somebody knocking. I set the cereal box down on my nightstand. What was once a trophy was now a sign of shame. I pulled my earbuds out and unplugged them, throwing them on the bed. I walked over to my dresser to grab a new shirt and a pair of shorts.

I heard Jack yelling for Cole and Trevor. This had to be Luke or Quinn.

“Hey? Can I come in?” Quinn. His voice came just as I slipped my shirt on. I grabbed a pair of socks from my dresser and put those on as well before I grabbed the nearest pair of tennis shoes. I finished changing before I answered.

“That’s fine.” I mumbled. I walked over to my bed and sat down, slipping one shoe on as Quinn opened the door and stepped inside. He resealed my privacy by closing the door once again behind himself.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Quinn.” I put my next shoe on.

“Look, I know you and Cole haven’t gotten along well, but-“

“Uh uh. No. Don’t say a word.” I shook my head as I swiftly walked over to Quinn. I stoped in front of him, only to reach behind him to grab my bag, hanging from the door handle. A tiny black book bag that held my wallet and keys, and other essentials I needed for a day out.

“Come on,” Quinn pleaded as I pulled my door open, giving him no choice but to jump out of the way.

“I’m going out, Quinn. You can tell your ass of a friend to fuck off. And if I’m really that intolerable, I’ll pack my bags and leave at the end of the week.” Quinn looked both perplexed and concerned.

“What did he say to you?”

I wasn’t going to answer. I was already halfway down the hall when he finished speaking. By the time Quinn tried to catch me, I was out the front door. And I had no shame in slamming it.

Me? Insufferable?

I may have had a few loud moments here and there. I certainly wasn’t perfect. But what made me insufferable?

Cole was whole loads of unbearable.

With the way he spoke to me. Told me I was beautiful the first time we met. Made a joke about how we were set up. Made me feel stupid and tricked me into thinking he was interested. Just to make jokes about me days later -though I had insulted him first, and I had been the first offender-. Who did he think he was?

I drove blindly into chaotic traffic, and well until I found a mall to shop my blues away in. I had turned my phone off to ignore the messages and calls from any of the boys. I didn’t want to hear from them. I needed space.

Something only Quinn truly knew how to give.

The mall though. The mall knew exactly how much space I needed. Me, myself, and an armload of bags. A new pair of sunglasses, a cute crop top, a few different pairs of pants. I shopped until I felt like I’d settled enough to think of Cole or that lake house and not physically seethe. And then I took myself to dinner.

Only when I got sat down, did I turn my phone on. The texts from Jack ended after twenty. Quinn only sent ten. Trevor sent enough that I wasn’t going to count them. I was even surprised to see a text from a number I never put in my phone. A simple,

Hey it’s Cole. I’m really sorry

I wanted to correct his punctuation, but instead, I ignored all three of the boys.

I deleted the missed calls, opened contact names so texts wouldn’t be considered unread, and then I set my phone face down on the table.

When the waiter came, I ordered my comfort food, and I sat quietly listening to the music in the background for around an hour while I ate. Not rushed, uninterrupted, and quietly.

I let Cole’s apology sink in, but I didn’t want to respond. If he was sorry, that was fine, but if still didn’t explain anything.

It wasn’t until I payed and walked back out to my car, that I opened my phone and looked at the message again. I absentmindedly slipped my key into the ignition, then I noticed a bright red light from the corner of my eye. I looked toward my speedometer, and my heart sank.

If how much I spent shopping wasn’t a tell of my angry decision making, then electing to ignore the fact that I was low on gas, was a good enough example.

I wouldn’t make it home. I wouldn’t even make it to a close enough gas station.

I swallowed my pride, dialed my emergency contact, and waited.

“Hey! Are you okay? I couldn’t see your location, I got a little nervous.”

I sighed and glanced down at my steering wheel.

“I’m fine. I just- I went shopping and had an early dinner.”

“You could have told us.”

“I’m sorry, Q. Really.. I just- I needed some space.”

It was his turn to sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.. no.”

“What’s up?”

“My gas tank is almost empty. I don’t know how I’m getting home.” I was greeted by silence on the other line, other than the muffled voices I could hear.

“You’ll have to- well… My brothers and Trev- we all went golfing. We’re like- two hours away..”

“Shit, Quinn. I don’t wanna sit in the dark parking lot that long.” I complained, though I knew it was not his fault.

“We can definitely come get you.. or you could call Cole.” I clenched my teeth. “He’s closer than we are.”

“Why didn’t he go with you guys?” I had to ask.

“He needed some space too. You guys both said some pretty mean shit to each other. Jack and Trev aren’t happy with either of you.”

Right.. because we had mutual friends. They were mad at me for being rude and mad at Cole for being rude. At least they weren’t picking sides.

“Can’t you guys just come get me?”

“Come on. If it’s really that bad I’ll pick you up, but we’re just finishing this match and we had our own plans.”

It was selfish of me to make the boys quit what they were doing because I couldn’t be mature. I gave in quickly.

“I’ll give Cole a call.”

“Good. Just try to keep things civil, eh?”

“I’ll try.”

I hopped from one call to the next. I hung up on Quinn, and pulled up my texts to find the number I didn’t have in my phone. I pressed call.

Cole didn’t pick up near as quickly as Quinn did, but he picked up nonetheless.

“Who’s this?”

“You’ll never guess,” I quipped. The words slipped before I could stop myself.

“Oh.”

I closed my eyes and took in a breath.

“If I share my location with you, will you come pick me up?” I opened my eyes and looked out into the parking lot. I made sure my doors were locked.

“Why?”

“My car’s almost out of gas. I can’t get home.”

I hated the silence I was once again greeted with. These boys were horrible at saying, ‘hold on,’ or ‘one moment.’

“I’ll be there.” I heard a jingle of keys and I felt my hopes lift.

“Oh thank you so much C-“ I paused. Now the silence was awkward. Not contemplating. Awkward.

“No problem.”

I would be the first to admit, I hung up after he spoke, with the speed of a cheetah. I set my phone down and turned my car off to save what little fuel it did have. Within the silence and the darkness, I eyed my surroundings.

My eyes skimmed over a man standing in the lot by the mall entrance. I thought nothing of him, until my mind wandered. I checked to make sure my windows were all the way up, and that my doors were locked once again.

He could be innocently waiting for someone. A wife or child, lover or sibling. Or he could be up to something else. One could never be too sure.

I waited anxiously, almost two hours for Cole. My car got cold quickly, and I found myself rubbing my arms to warm up just as his headlights flashed in my rear view mirror. I had to stop myself from thanking God for Cole Caufield.

He quickly got out of his car, dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt like it wasn’t chilly outside. I unlocked the car doors and swiftly stepped out. He met me as we approached each other around the hood of my car.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I nodded.

“Do you need anything out of your car?”

“All of my bags are in the trunk. I can get them.” I shivered and waved a hand at him. I turned and made my way around to my trunk, only to realize Cole followed me when I opened it and saw his hands reaching for my bags. I glanced at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. Too focused on the task at hand.

“Can you pop my trunk?” He asked, and I swiftly nodded. I walked over to his car, next to my own, and opened his trunk. He set my bags down with ease, raising a brow only when he heard the clinking of bottles.

We made eye contact.

“I like wine.. I’m not drinking piss all the time.” I spoke as if it were obvious. I didn’t mind beer, but I had things I liked better.

Cole cracked a smile, and I grew conflicted with my own emotions.

I helped him move the last of my bags into his car before he closed my trunk.

“Anything else?” I shook my head, a shiver wracked my body. Cole slipped past me, walking between our cars and opening his back seat door. He pulled a sweatshirt out and handed it over to me. It was one of mine.

“I grabbed it. I figured you might be cold.” He held the sweatshirt out, and I hate to say that I took note of the way our fingers brushed when I took it from him.

“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered as I looked down at the shirt. I slowly pulled it on.

“Why don’t you get in? I bet you wanna be back at the house.”

That I did.

Cole and I didn’t exchange much more after that. The drive wasn’t as tense as I expected it to be, but it also wasn’t calm. In the end, I curled up in his passenger seat and dozed off well until we were back at the lake house.

I eventually woke up to a nudge on my shoulder and the feeling of cold air kissing my lips. I licked them out of impulse, my eyes fluttering open slowly.

I was met by the sight of an Angel, his halo illuminated by the street light above.

I had to remind myself it was Cole I was looking at. Not a Saint.

“You coming inside?” He teased with a smirk. A pinch of my resentment for him returned seeing that snarky smile.

I swiftly climbed out of the car, and stretched as I approached the lake house entrance. Cole shut my door for me, seeing as I didn’t give him much of an option.

“Did you want your stuff?” He called to me. I shook my head.

“Just leave it in the car. I’m exhausted. I’ll get it in the morning.”

Cole joined me by the front door in record time. He unlocked it, and I stepped inside only to slink off into the kitchen. I was starving. I heard the door shut and lock. I assumed that was the end of our interaction. Until I heard the distinct sound of Cole’s feather light steps enter the kitchen. I glanced back at him, having just pulled a pizza pan out of one of the cupboards.

We eyed each other in silence. He held an unreadable expression.

“Did you want pizza too?” I asked. Confused.

“No.”

“Then, what?” I asked, seeing as he was staring at me for longer than I appreciated.

Cole’s face scrunched up into a look of uncertainty and discomfort.

He looked away, then back at me. Then away again. “I didn’t mean to ever make you uncomfortable. Or mad.. or whatever I did to make you so upset with me.”

I was shocked. I looked down at the pizza pan as I set it on the counter. My fingers grazed over the lip of the pan.

“What’s done is done.” I shrugged.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have said all those mean things. You’re not intolerable.”

“Cole-“

“Quinn just..”

I immediately looked back up at him. What did Quinn have to do with this? We made eye contact and I tilted my head as a signal for him to go on.

“He told me you were really pretty, and that we had a lot in common. And then when I saw you- I got nervous. The cocky thing always seems to work for Jack.” I watched him smile sadly before he shook his head. I didn’t understand why somebody as handsome as Cole felt he needed to use someone else’s method to get girls.

“Well there’s a reason I’m not with Jack.” I leaned forward. I never assumed it was a misunderstanding between us. I assumed Cole was an ass and that was that.

“I know.” The way his voice softened worried me. Cole shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. I didn’t peg him as the emotional type.

“I guess I’m sorry too. I didn’t know Quinn said anything to you. He’s mentikned you, but not like.. in a suggestion that we might like each other.”

Cole nodded.

“He did mention to me.. the sweet, and funny, and weird version of you though. That’s not got his head up his own ass every day.” I watched the blonde shift his weight before he walked further into the kitchen to sit on one of the stools at the island.

“I don’t much care for the Cole who’s rude and cranky every day. But the Cole who picked me up tonight was really sweet.” I pursed my lips, “and thoughtful.”

I didn’t like him before, but all of our issues had been over nothing. A simple miss-understanding. When one stripped away all of the insults and fights we threw at one another, they could assume there was a chance for us.

“Could we just.. maybe forget about all that stuff?” Cole asked. I could tell he was embarrassed. I should have been too, but for some reason, it was much easier to feel bad when we were both in the wrong.

“As long as we can agree not to have these shitty explosive fights any more.” I reasoned.

“I think we can manage that.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” I leaned forward against the counter and flashed Cole a smile.

“And maybe we could go out and get to know each other tomorrow night?”

I was caught off guard by his suggestion, but I nodded nonetheless.

“I don’t mind the sound of that.”

After taking away every hateful interaction we had, I decided that all I knew of Cole was his name, his profession, and how handsome he was. I knew nothing of him, and if Quinn believed we’d make a good pair, then I’d just have to give it a try.

Cautiously, of course.

I made a small pizza, and the two of us ended up on the couch by the end of the night, in a conversation about animal videos with two empty plates stacked on the coffee table. We eventually moved to the middle of the couch, pressed into one another’s sides, holding our phones out.

We must have gone through a million videos before I set my phone aside to only look at Cole’s.

I felt the weight of Cole’s arm find its way around my shoulder. It was comforting in a way I never expected Cole’s touch to be.

I fell asleep not long after, dozing off as our conversations ceased and silence filled the air. Cole’s occasional giggle would startle me awake, until I reached the point of no return, breathing softly into his shoulder and falling unconscious.

——————

“Five bucks says they’ve killed each other.” Trevor piped up from behind Jack and Quinn, laughing softly.

“I’d hope they haven’t. I’d feel horrible. It’s my fault this happened anyway.” Quinn muttered as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

“They’re probably in their rooms. Stop freaking out.” Jack complained softly to his older brother as the three walked inside. The soft glow from the living room lamp seeped into the hall. All three kicked their shoes off and snuck into the living room doorway to see who was inside.

“Aw shit.” Trevor mumbled. “There goes my five bucks.”

“This is all it took?” Quinn muttered, incredulous.

“They look comfortable.” Jack folded his arms across his chest.

They eyed Cole, sleeping soundly on the couch with an arm around the girl he’d been feuding with for weeks. Both sound asleep. Both content with one another. At long last.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield #cole caufield imagine #montreal canadiens #jack hughes #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #luke hughes

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iamsherlocked1479 · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober: Day Three hate fuck

A little longer today: 1.6K words. i like this one alot and hope you do too.

Kinktober masterlist

“Seriously?! Him?” you over exaggerate

“Calm down, it's just for three days.” Natasha sighed

“Are you joking, three days with a condescending sarcastic dick.” you could almost hear the sound of Stephens eye roll from your words

“You’re not the most pleasant cup of tea sweetheart.” he said sitting down at the table

“Look, all you have to do is hide out in a cottage for three nights to get a good idea of the patrol route and we’ll pick you up in three days so we can get Bucky back.

“Fine, but only because i owe Bucky,” you sigh “ but i don’t see why i can’t just do this on my own

“Because this is too high risk and last time you had a solo mission it all-

“Went to shit.” Stephen finished Steve's sentence.

“That's not how i was going to say it but, yeah” you groaned and pushed your head into your arms “listen your new at this, you’ll get used to it, going from being a solo act to a team player can be hard.”

“I’m not in the mood for a team building speech right now cap.” you get up and purposely knock stephens shoulder as you walk past him causing his coffee to spill slightly.

Packing was easy picking comfortable yet appropriate clothing for the event of having to make a quick escape. You then pondered at the thought of bringing the useful tool that was tucked away in your drawer. You argued with yourself before throwing it in just in case it was needed. You jumped as there was a knock at the door

“Are you ready to go?” Stephen walked in “what's wrong packing your dildo?” He smirked

“What? No. Yeah, ready whenever you are.” You walked him and into the hall surprised that he didn’t follow. “Are you coming? It's a five hour drive, we gotta get moving.”

“You’re forgetting that i have a sling ring.” He popped his head around the corner and you went back into your room to see the opened portal. You huffed and stepped through the portal and carried your stuff to the room.

The rest of the evening was fine, you set up the equipment listening for any communications happening between the cabin and the base in the woods ahead of you. And as you figured, nothing, you were no closer to finding your friend.

“You know, if you keep staring at the speaker like that it might float.” Stephen said, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. “Why do you care so much anyway?”

“Because he got me out of the lab. He set me free.” You twiddling your thumbs around

“You mean from the mutant home?” He chuckled to himself

“Prison, prison is probably a better word to use.” An awkward silence spread through the room. He put his glass down on the table letting a loud bang cut through the silence

“I’m going for a walk, don’t get into any trouble.” He sighed and shut the door as he left. God you hated him, the sudden realisation that you were alone brought an excitement to your core. You remembered your toy that you had pushed into your bag, you headed to the room not realising the old wooden door hadn’t fully latched when you closed it behind you.

When Stephen got back you were gone, the room was quiet and the desk you had been sitting at was lifeless. He figured you had gone to bed and began to do the same until he heard that noise. The muffled moan coming from your room with a low buzzing sound. He smiled to himself as he peered through the door, he couldn’t help it, something else he could tease you with. But the noises you were making where not of pleasure, but frustration. He didn’t know what drove him into the room but he opened the door with the same cocky attitude he always treated you with.

“What's wrong can’t get off?”

“What the fuck, the door was closed!” You threw you covers over your lower half

“That door was not closed, what were you doing? trying to entice me?” He leant against the frame

“No i uh, why are you here?” You say frustratedly sitting up in your bed.

“Well from what it looked, and sounded like, is that you couldn’t get off.” He shuffled slightly “so what if i propose an offer?”

“What are you talking about?” You ask as he crosses his arms

“What if, just this once, I help you get off.” His brow raises

“What? Why, why would you do that.”

“Because it's better than you not being able to and me having to deal with the sulking. But hey it's just an offer.” He shrugs and walks away

“Wait” you call out “no strings attached?”

“None” he replies “just this once”

“Just this once?” You think for a moment “fine, okay”

“Okay?” He enters your room, closing the door behind you and sits on the bed “so uh”

You sigh and lean forward, pressing your lips to his, he quickly kisses back, and you lay down with him on top of you. You couldn’t lie he was a damn good kisser, he trailed them down your neck and his hand went up your tank top where he could play with your nipple. You flinch slightly,

“Easy, it’s okay, I won’t bite. Unless you want me to?” He joked and you rolled your eyes, you were going to say something but then his hand found itself under your shorts and sliding through your folds.

“Shit.” You called out as he circled your clit. He chuckled and pulled down your shorts

“No panties you dirty girl.” He watched as your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his tongue beginning to fuck you. He was good, so good you were trying not to enjoy it too much, you hated how good it was.

“Fuck don’t stop.” You were close, you were so pitifully close already. You needed this so bad and he was delivering, he spread your legs as far apart as he could giving him full access. You came so hard, over his face and he made sure to clean up every drop, your body was sweating, it was becoming hooked on him like he was a drug. And he laughed at you, he laughed at how quickly you had come.

“If you needed it so bad you could’ve told me.” He began to get up and you stopped him, grabbing his arms. “What?” His brow raised, waiting for your answer, god you hated that stupid face, you hated it so bad you kissed it, you could taste yourself on his tongue and you like it. You pushed him onto the bed, massaging the bulge growing in his crotch. He moaned at the sensation and didn’t fuss when you pulled down his trousers and boxers allowing him to be free. He didn’t complain when you took him into his mouth and began sucking like you need it. “Shit- what are you… god that's good.” He leaned back on the bed and took your hair and wrapped it around your head. You gagged as he shallowly thrusted into your mouth only causing you to swallow him down even more. You pulled him from your mouth with a pop and climbed on top of him. His hand flew to your waist as you sat just above his cock.

“Just this once?” You asked, he nodded and you aligned yourself with his cock and slowly sank down. It was good, it was so fucking good, you bounced like a needy teen and his hands pawed at you tits as he rejoyced at the way the bounced infront of him.

“God you’re so tight.” His hands shook your body up and down him picking the pace.

“God i need this” you cried out

“You like this honey? Don’t enjoy it too much'' he panted “just this once remember?” He did that stupid smirk again.

“Shut up” you pressed your lips to his again and he kissed you as you rode him so desperately. You could feel the way he scraped your insides away, his curve hitting that spot so perfectly over and over again. You hated how good it felt, you hated how you gripped his shoulders as you screamed his name. Your pace slowed and he flipped you over so that he pinned you between his arms.

“My turn” he whispered into your ears

“Oh god” you cried out as he pounded into you, he flung one of your legs over his shoulder and rattled the bed.

“God bet you’ve been thinking about this for so long huh, was that why you're so rude? Jealous that you don’t get to fuck me ever-shit, every night?” He gripped your leg and closed his eyes, his head dropping backwards, “go on tell em you wanted.” He panted

“Fuck stephen i- want it bad. Afraid i’ll get addicted, wanna see you cum, fill me up, i'm on the pill do it. Make me a mess.” You cried out gripping the bed sheets so tight they came off the corners.

“Gonna fill you up, you want that, bet you do” he dropped your leg and picked you up hitting you back against the bed frame pinning you between him and the wall. He fucked up into you, his pace becoming inconsistant and then he came, he came hard shooting his loads of thick white ropes into you and then he collapsed. You both laid there falling asleep, maybe even hating each other slightly less.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @rmoonstoner @mary-johnlocked

Lmk if you want to be tagged! <3

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange sorcerer supreme #doctor strange #dr stephen strange #doctor stephen strange #dr strange x fem!reader #dr strange smut #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #marvel smut #marvel #october #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 1 year ago

Note

How do you interpret the vengeful spirit/Cassidy thing then?

blame @birdsareblooming for pitching this to me and putting the thought in my head, but in the gameverse, we dont think cassidy/golden freddy kid is the vengeful spirit, we think the spirit is michael afton.

i wrote a whole essay on it that i'm gonna rework when i get back from work bc long story short cori also picked up on smth from the logbook that could add evidence to this, but basically michael:

died bc william sent him to sister location; it's implied william knew he was gonna die and sent him anyway ("it was right where you said it would be[...] then, they thought i was you. [scoffs]"); while william didn't directly kill him, it's clear that michael blames him more than the funtimes, who he just offhandedly says are "free now."

when he contacts william post-possession he very eerily says "i'm going to COME FIND YOU"; many of the vengeful spirit lines are stuff like "you knew i'd find you eventually"

proceeds to spend what is likely decades possessing his own decaying corpse and hunting down his father. that is some determination if i've ever seen it. he's the one william should not have killed bc he's the one who 1) knows who he is, 2) is willful enough to track him down like that, 3) is pissed at him enough to do shit like this

if we presume he's the fnaf3 guard, he then set his dad on fire

we KNOW the vengeful spirit was someone from the fnaf6 fire due to lines referencing the event; it's not henry because the spirit also refers to henry as "he." it's not charlie considering her puppet line of "stay out of my way," something that would be a bit hard to do if you were the one actively torturing. elizabeth was full on her dad's side in fnaf6. so it's either michael or the missing kids

and from a storytelling perspective it adds more oomph if it's michael, the character we've played as for several games (definitely fnaf1, 5 and 6, very likely 3 and it's speculated 4) rather than "dead kid #5 we literally know nothing about"

ALSO the line "is this a prison for you or me or both".... what did a 7yo dead kid do to think they deserve to be in hell with william? michael, however, who probably blames himself for cc's death, might feel that way. while working as the spirit, he's telling himself he's punishing his dad, but really he's self-harming himself and punishing himself for what he did to cc as a child, HENCE the golden freddy imagery. the twitching golden freddy is HIS torturous ghost, not william's

THEN in the old man consequences cutscene, omc tells him to "leave the demon to his demons, there is nothing for you here." what he's saying is that michael, unlike what he believes, DOES NOT deserve to go to hell like his dad, and once he accepts that and moves on, he can go to a better place, while william will still be left behind and tormented. the omc cutscene is where the afton story ends, with it ambiguous as to whether michael will continue torturing himself in the name of vengeance or will let go of his anger and self-hatred and move on to be with his siblings again

so yeah

#fnaf #michael afton #mine

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 2 years ago

Text

#345

“Well look who has come back? I thought you would eventually grovel for your job. So you went to Daryl, hunh? You said what you had to say, and he, being the owner, just shrugged it off and told you to get back to work? It’s funny how shit like that happens, isn’t it? Would it come as a surprise to you that while you were complaining about me to him that he had my load in his ass?...

“Yeah he called me in before your appointment. I told him everything, including that your life is fucked for having to register as a sex offender for having consensual sex with a seventeen-year-old only two weeks away from turning eighteen. He doesn’t give a shit about all that. He just knows that you can’t find a job elsewhere in this tight town. So welcome back. My demands are the same. If you accept your role as my cunt employee, strip….

“…There you go. Damn, you are diving right in with our new arrangement. I like your enthusiasm. OK. So I am going to expect a lot more than the blowjob I initially asked of you last week. A lot more. Going forward, each day after the last delivery truck returns, you are to report to my office. If I am there you are to strip naked in front of me. If not, you are to strip and bend over my couch and wait for at least 15 minutes. If I don’t return, go back to work at your desk naked.

“If I recall, you were getting evicted because of your status. Well, I talked to the Daryl, and he’s fine with you moving into the apartment over the office. But he agreed on one condition, that he still has access to it to bring tricks back from the adult theater, Ruby’s bookstore, or the glory holes at the rest stop up the highway. I said that was fine. He, you, and I will all have keys.

“You are to always keep it clean, that includes the sex toys and the furniture. You will be living there rent free, that’s the least you can do. You will be making the same pay, but you will be expected to do more for me.

“I can’t take it anymore. Those titties are too soft. They need to be worked over. Hold still. Fuck yeah. There is a direct line from your titties through my fingers to my dick. Mmmm fuck. I promised Daryl that he could watch you get claimed by me.

“He and I go way back. I met him at Ruby’s and then at the rest area. I told him that I was looking for a job and he hired me on the spot as long as I promised to regularly fuck him. I’ve been here nine years since. We go out, every once in a while, into the city. He loves to see me cunt a fag. So you are going to be the fag tonight.

“These nips will be bloody by the end of the night…. Shut up! I’ll smack you again. I have no problem doing that. Look. We are setting you up very well. You have a rent free apartment and a well paying job. The apartment is far enough away so that you don’t have to worry about proximity to children. All you have to do is be my cunt bitch fag.

“Don’t give me that look. I know you can do it. Despite your protests that you are straight, I found out, just last week, that the seventeen-year-old, that you went to prison over, was a boy you picked up outside Ruby’s when he was kicked out for being under age.

“So you can knock off the ‘I’m straight’ bit. You can still fuck all the women you want, but you will submit to my cock whenever I demand. Thing is, I don’t ever want to hear about your escapades with women, you got that? I told Daryl the same thing.

“You will be required to tell me all the men you hook up with. That will include any of the drivers. Not all drivers we hire are in the know. Some are. This is a privilege I am extending to you. You can be the top if you want. But know that I own this pecker here. Shut up. If I want to squeeze so hard your balls pop I will, and it would be my right. So don’t do anything stupid, or I’ll lock this thing up.

“You understand our agreement?... You good with it?... I said, ‘you good with it?’… Good! Glad to hear. Now get on your knees. I got to take a piss.

“…Damn you must love being face slapped. You think our thing is just tit torture and fucking? Oh hell no. You are going to drink my piss for starters. I am going to do a lot of shit to you. If you think you were getting cunted in the apartment with Daryl looking on, you would be mistaken. After I finish pissing in your stomach, I’m going to tie you up naked in one of those delivery trucks and then we are going to this sex party in the city where you are secured in a sling. I will be the first of a long line of men to gang bang you. Daryl doesn’t know it yet, but he will be tied under you in a way that any ass slop that comes dripping out of your gape will go in his mouth.

“Now put my cock in your mouth and drink.”

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training4theapocalypse · 11 months ago

Text

Yes, chef (Jeffrey Steinberg x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 6k

Warnings / Tags: SMUT, Sex pollen, Established friendship, Friends to lovers, Mutual pining.

Summary: Most people in Evergreen think Jeffrey is an asshole. But you’re the only one who knows him from before - he was your favourite customer at your restaurant. And even if he's an egotist, deep down you know he's sweet. He even has a special surprise for you to take your mind off of the apocalypse.

A/N: Call me a men's rights activist because Jeffrey Steinberg did nothing wrong. (I'm joking - please never call me that)

Masterlist

Chapter text

You sit at the edge of the lake with an almost empty pack of cigarettes in your hand. The artificial sun sets in the distance as you feel the last cigarette in existence rolling around inside the confines of its battered cardboard prison.

Footsteps approach you on the grassy verge. You don’t need to look around to see who it is. You only have one friend in Evergreen who’d bother to come and find you. And as far as you can tell, he only has you. Unless he considers Cortex to be a friend.

“Do you think he put the lake here just to fuck with me?” you ask when Jeffrey Steinberg's footsteps come to a halt beside you but you still don’t take your eyes off the still body of water.

“Well, I think he put a lot of things in here to fuck with us,” says Jeffrey with a deep sigh as he lowers himself on the ground to sit next to you. “What makes you think the lake was one of them?”

“No fish.”

It catches you off-guard when Jeffrey laughs at this. You look at him seriously and it only makes his handsome but tired face break into an even wider smile as he laughs hard at your expense. You try to pout but it’s infectious. Your lips twist reluctantly into a smile as he rests on his elbows and leans back to observe the lake.

“No fish…” he chuckles, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Well, yeah, it would be pretty fucked up to trap a world-famous seafood chef in an ecosphere with an empty lake.” Jeffrey looks out at the water. “But it’s just a reservoir. For recycling and filtering the water supply.”

“You really get this place, Jeffrey. No wonder Fin wanted you here.”

“You’re clever too. I mean, your business acumen? You own an empire of restaurants -”

“Stop. We both know why he really wanted me here.”

Jeffrey takes a deep breath, carefully choosing his next words. “He was a real piece of shit. Or is, I suppose. If he ever wakes up.”

“You know how many times Fin tried to hire me to be his personal chef? I mean, he offered me a lot of money. I’m talking about generational wealth. It would make your eyes water.” Jeffrey raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not your eyes. But most people’s. And I told him ‘No’.”

“See? Clever. Like I said.”

“So what does he do?” You press on, feeling like there’s steam coming out of your ears as Jeffrey lets you rant. “Let me die in peace with everyone I know? ‘Course not.” You make a disgusted noise. “I mean you guys… you guys are all essential to making Evergreen a success. And I’m not saying it’s right -” you add hastily when he opens his mouth to argue. “ - but you can see the logic. Me though? Cortex can synthesise food so he didn’t need a cook… No, he just wanted me here. Trapped for the rest of my life as a fucking servant.” You meet Jeffrey’s eyes behind the reflection of the sunset on his glasses. “I loved saying ‘No’ to him, y’know? I was like the one thing he couldn’t have. The thing that he couldn’t get by throwing money at.”

Jeffrey hesitates for a few moments. You suppose that before the asteroid hit Earth he used to be the kind of guy who got whatever he wanted by throwing money at it. “Is that why you haven’t cooked anything since you came down here?” he asks.

“It’s not much. But I suppose I still have my own free will.”

“Are those cigarettes?” asks Jeffrey, noticing you spinning the almost empty carton in your hands.

“Goes hand in hand with the industry.” You’d kill for a smoke break in the dirty alley behind a greasy kitchen right now. “But I’ve actually decided to quit.”

“You mean you had to quit. Unless Fin has a tobacconist down here that I don’t know about.”

“As long as there’s one cigarette left, I’ve chosen to quit. Free will.” You give him a small smile. “Is that stupid?”

“I suppose that all depends on your understanding of the concept of free will -” He stops himself when he sees your eyebrows raise. “I mean - sorry, I’ll shut up and stop ruining your attempt to have some autonomy.”

“Don’t be sorry. It must be hard being so smart - I guess you can’t turn it off.”

“Smart people know when to shut up and stop trying to prove themselves. I was just being a dickhead know-it-all.”

“I don’t think you’re a dickhead.”

“Hah, don’t say that in front of the others if you want to make friends,” Jeffrey says sourly.

“What do they know? They know you in here but I knew you out there. And out of all the rich assholes who came to my restaurants, you were my favourite.”

He chuckles and rests back on his palms. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You’d always get your assistants to book way in advance. Make sure you had a big plate of oysters waiting to impress woman after woman you’d bring in,” you smirk.

“God, I miss that,” says Jeffrey tilting his head back and looking at the sky. “Mostly the oysters but - ”

“- And you always left a huge tip for my staff.” You continue, preferring not to be reminded of Jeffrey Steinberg’s never-ending stream of previous conquests. “They liked you too. But Fin? Do you know the number of times I had Hannah calling my personal phone in tears because Fin wanted a table the same night or he’d fire her?” You roll your eyes. “As if I didn’t have a restaurant already packed with other billionaires and Saudi Princes that I could just bump.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Get Fin a table?”

“Well, yeah. But only because Hannah’s neck was on the line. It wasn’t so many years ago that I was in her position. Working for asshole Head Chefs who demanded the impossible.”

You put the pack of cigarettes back in your pocket and rest your head in your hands.

“It’s so gross to most people,” you say into your palms. “But I miss the fishy smell, even though I hated it at the time. And now I won’t get to smell it ever again.” You inhale deeply. Your hands smell clinically clean. Like hospital disinfectant.

“You still worked in the kitchen? I thought you’d have chefs to do that for you?”

“Of course I did. You think I put that jacket on for show when I came to your table to see you?” He shrugs. “I loved it. I loved being in the restaurant kitchen, preparing food. More than anything.”

“Well…” You look up and see him smiling at you, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s funny you should mention it. Because I have something to show you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oysters.

Nico was growing fucking oysters in her lab.

Jeffrey said she had needed them to harvest their large amounts of zinc and other nutrients for her experiments - scientific jargon that went over your head.

All you know is that you practically feel giddy as you and Jeffrey turn out the lights of Nico’s DNA bank and sneak along the corridor to the speakeasy.

You’re not sure why exactly you’re sneaking - Jeffrey basically runs this place. But you like that this is something for just the two of you. Something that the others can’t ruin with their chaos.

“Get some champagne and two glasses,” you say as the door to the speakeasy slides open.

“Yes, chef,” says Jeffrey when you run the cold tap behind the bar to clean the oysters. “Need anything else?”

“See if you can find a big plate and fill it up with ice.”

“What kind of ice?” asks Jeffrey looking at the fancy ice machine. “Crushed? Cubed? Ooh, spheres?”

“How many times have you eaten oysters on spherical ice in one of my restaurants?”

“Crushed. Got it.”

He puts the plate of ice on the bar and watches you from the other side as you shuck them.

“You know what they say about oysters though, right?”

“What’s that?” you ask absently, concentrating on sliding the knife between the shells.

“That they’re an aphrodisiac.”

Your knife almost slips when you look up at the stupid smirk on his face. You quickly avert your eyes back down at the task at hand. There’s no way you’d even consider starting any kind of romantic relationship down here. All of your previous relationships have ended badly - you can’t even begin to imagine how messy it would be if you were trapped in an Ecosphere with an ex-lover for the rest of your life.

“As if, Jeffrey. Even if you are the last fuckable man left on Earth.”

“Oh yeah? What about Axel and David?”

You shrug. Axel and David are good-looking in the way that most wealthy, successful men are but there’s something about Jeffrey with his rolled-up shirt sleeves, slutty little glasses and permanently messy hair that he’s always running his hands through, that makes you seriously reconsider your determination not to have a messy fling while you’re stuck here.

“This is a very dangerous conversation to be having while I’m holding a knife,” you tut, pointing it at him before resuming what you were doing. “Besides, I thought you were a man of science? You should know there’s no concrete evidence to say oysters really are an aphrodisiac.”

“That’s not what your Maitre D’ told me on Valentine’s night.”

“That,” you say, placing the two oysters onto the ice. “Is because if they say that we sell more. And the markup on these things is enormous.”

You slide the plate across the bar towards Jeffrey.

“Shall we?” he asks.

“No, let’s sit down over there.” You nod to the plush leather sofa behind him. “I want to pretend I’m in a nice restaurant, having a good time.”

“Like on a date?” He tilts his head.

You laugh. “Like two friends who have just finished a hard week at work. An exceptionally hard week. Grab the champagne, will you?”

You set everything down on the small table and sit down on the sofa. Jeffrey sits beside you and starts pouring champagne into two glasses.

“Give it here,” you say, gesturing for the bottle. “I wish we had fresh lemons or something acidic -”

“There’s Tabasco for Bloody Marys?” He nods at the bar cart.

“That’s more spicy than acidic…”

“Tabasco has a pH level of 4. It’s acidic.”

“Alright then, we can use Tabasco since it’s scientifically proven.”

“I sound like a dickhead know-it-all again, don’t I?” Jeffrey asks, getting up to find the bottle of hot sauce from the cart.

“It is kind of funny how you just can’t help yourself…” He sits down and passes you the Tobasco. “A few drops of something acidic and a tiny, tiny dash of champagne -” You spill a small drop of champagne onto each oyster. “Pairs excellently with Morecambe Bay rock oysters. So we can pretend that’s what we’re having instead of whatever lab-grown monstrosities these are... Ready?”

You pick up your oyster and Jeffrey does the same. You both tilt your heads back and swallow. As soon as the oyster hits the back of your throat, you feel warmth flooding through your veins. Every nerve ending sings. You suppose your body is just grateful that you’re finally feeding it with real, unsynthesised food. Even if it was grown by Nico in a lab.

“Even if these do turn out to be poisonous… what a way to go,” says Jeffrey. From the look on his face, you can see he’s almost as elated as you.

“Cheers to that,” you say, picking up your champagne glass and clinking it against his before taking a sip. “What champagne is this? No wait - let me guess!” You determinedly look away from the bottle. “Dom Perignon 2004?”

“Would you look at that? I’m not the only one who’s a know-it-all.”

The impressed note in his voice makes you beam. You look from the champagne label back at Jeffrey staring intently at you. And God, maybe it’s the dim light in here or the way he’s sitting with his arm relaxed on the back of the sofa but he looks… good. Maybe you’ve been under so much stress here in Evergreen that you’ve never really been tempted by how jaw-droppingly fuckable he looks.

It makes you wholeheartedly reconsider his suggestion.

“So if this was a date…” You begin and Jeffrey blinks at you as if snapping out of something. “What would your opening move be?”

He scoffs at you playfully. “I don’t need moves.”

“Oh, yeah? Women throwing themselves at you so often that you’ve forgotten the art of seduction?”

“Sort of,” he takes another sip of champagne. “I don’t know, I’d probably ask you what you did for a living. Are you a model slash actress? Or an actress slash model?”

“Ah, so in short, I’m not your type?”

“How many other chefs have been in Vogue?”

You feel flushed that he knows about your magazine features. But the heat creeping up your neck doesn’t stop at your face. It’s fucking boiling in here. Like a kitchen in the middle of a dinner rush on the busiest night of the year.

“And that works? Just asking them where they work?” You take another sip of champagne, hoping it will cool you down but the chilled liquid fizzes and practically sizzles on your tongue. Why is your mouth so warm?

“One hundred per cent success rate so far.”

“Go on then, let’s see if we can fudge those numbers.”

“You want me to try and pick you up?” He adjusts his navy shirt collar slightly and you can’t tear your eyes away from his Adam’s apple moving as he does. The heat you’re feeling spreads across your chest - you’re so warm that you want to rip your sweater off and toss it on the floor.

“Just for fun,” you say but you feel your heart beating so quickly in your ribcage that you’re sure it’s going to betray you. That he’ll notice.

“Alright.”

He moves in closer and you’re sure he must be able to actually hear the pounding in your chest. You can smell his aftershave from here. It’s sweeter than you’d expected it to be. Spicy vanilla with notes of tangerine. You could easily eat him for dessert.

“So what do you do, then?” he says, jolting you out of your daydream.

“I, um, I own a couple of seafood restaurants.”

“A couple? Yeah, right.”

“Well, a few.”

“I bet they’re extremely upscale. Not tacky like this place.”

“Some people would say that.” You smile. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a racecar driver.”

“A racecar driver who wears glasses?”

“Alright, you’ve got me. I’m actually a masked vigilante.”

“Jeffrey…”

“I manage a college radio station?”

“So you lie about what you do on dates?”

“No. But I probably should. Because I’m a billionaire CEO.” He rolls his eyes as he says the last two words like it’s an inconvenience.

“Now why does that sound like the least believable one on that list?”

He runs his hand through his tousled, dark hair and you notice a bead of sweat clinging to his brow.

“Are you warm too?” You ask and bring the chilled champagne glass to rest against your neck.

“It’s like a million degrees in here.” He looks up at the ceiling. “Cortex? What’s the temperature reading in this room?”

“It is twenty-two degrees Celsius,” says Cortex’s disembodied electronic voice.

That doesn’t sound right. It feels more like forty.

“Cortex, can you turn up the air conditioning?”

You feel a blast of cold air sweeping over your skin. As the surface of your skin cools slightly, you notice that the heat from your body seems to permeate from your core, like the heat is coming from deep in your pelvis. No external breeze is going to help whatever this is.

“It is now seventeen degrees Celsius,” says Cortex after a few moments of silence where you and Jeffrey both determinedly look at anything but each other. Your eyes dart around the room as if expecting to see the heat.

“Do you think it’s broken?” you ask, not feeling any less warm.

“Cortex is never wrong… You don’t think it’s food poisoning, do you?”

“If it were food poisoning, it would take longer than a few minutes to kick in. And you’d be feeling more than just warm.”

He doesn’t say anything. You wonder if he too is feeling more than just warm - and not in a food poisoning sort of way. You wonder if he also has a deep, throbbing sensation in his underwear that’s getting harder and harder to ignore.

He pushes up his glasses to wipe sweat from the bridge of his nose. Those glasses. They’re so, devastatingly cute. You have a sudden, aching urge to see those glasses steamed up.

“Why do you still wear those?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from the way your body is screaming for attention. “Surely a guy like you would get laser eye surgery.”

“Here.” He takes his glasses off with one hand and passes them to you. “Put them on.”

You do. And you can see perfectly.

“They’re… just glass?”

“Yep. I am the type of guy that gets laser eye surgery. I just like how they look.”

“You slut.”

He almost spits out his drink. “What?!”

“These are like the sluttiest thing a man can wear!”

Now that his glasses are off, you notice just how green his eyes are. You can’t imagine having eyes that beautiful and hiding them behind glasses all the time.

You push his glasses up your nose but they slip again.

Fucking hell, you’re on fire.

You feel a drop of sweat roll from the nape of your neck down between your shoulder blades, sending a shiver down your spine. You need to take off this sweater before you turn into a soaking mess. Although your torso isn’t the only thing that’s sopping wet right now - you shift uncomfortably, feeling the way your underwear is saturated.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m just - just too fucking warm. Here, hold this a sec,” you say and pass him your champagne flute so you can pull your sweater off over your head, taking care not to catch it on the glasses still on your face. When you disentangle yourself you find him staring, unashamedly open-mouthed at your chest.

You look down. Your tank top is almost entirely translucent with sweat and your hard nipples poke through the fabric. Why are your nipples hard? It’s the opposite of cold.

“Sorry,” you say and cover your tits with your hands. Oh fuck. Why does the way you touch your own body feel so fucking good right now? “I didn’t realise…”

“It’s okay. We’re all friends here.”

“I… I don’t think I can let go,” you say, feeling your chest rising and falling under your palms. “I think I need something cold.”

Jeffrey looks at the ice-filled plate next to you. “What -” He swallows thickly. “What did you say again about the science? About oysters not being an aphrodisiac?”

“I…” Your mind feels blank. Like a rosy mist is clouding your brain. “I can’t remember.”

“I just wonder if Nico maybe didn’t get the chemical composition of those oysters quite right.”

His eyes meet yours. They don’t look as bright green anymore. They’re impossibly dark. Like his pupils are trying to find light in a pitch-black room.

“Do you feel… turned on?” he asks.

You take a gulp of air and your hands jolt from the fresh intake of oxygen. “No,” you lie, feeling your hard nipples under your palms. “Just hot.”

“Yeah… yeah, me too.” He puts down the champagne flutes, grabs and handful of ice and holds it to his neck. You watch breathlessly as it melts against his skin, trickling down his shirt. You grip your chest helplessly, not daring to remove your hands and do the same.

He notices the way your eyes linger on him. “Do you want me to…?” He thinks the longing look is for something cold when in actual fact, you’re jealous that the ice gets to roll down his delicious neck. You nod and he takes another handful of ice. He gets on his knees and leans over you, pressing it against your neck.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine and sink back into the corner of the sofa, feeling the crushed ice melting against your throat.

You can’t do anything except grab your own tits and try to steady your breathing as he holds it against you. But even as you breathe, the smell of his expensive cologne breaches your lungs.

“Your - your cologne is nice,” you say in an attempt to make conversation that isn’t about how good he’s making you feel right now. “What kind is it?”

“It’s bespoke. There’s a - a place in Paris that…” He trails off and you realise the ice has melted completely and he’s just holding your neck. Jeffrey’s hand is furnace-like. But it doesn’t make you feel any worse, on the contrary, it sends a pleasant tingling sensation through your body. Like his touch is answering the unasked question that you’re screaming internally. “Did that help?”

“The ice didn’t… But this is.”

You hope he won’t force you to elaborate that his skin touching yours is the only thing that’s making you feel better right now.

“Me too,” he says but before you get the chance to respond, his knee slips on the leather and his hips fall between your open legs. You feel his hard cock pressing against the seam of your jeans, right onto your clit. “Oh, fuck,” he groans. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” But despite his babbled stream of apology, he doesn’t pull back.

Doesn’t stop.

His hand moves from your throat to lace the hair at the nape of your neck as he grinds himself against you. And you realise now, he’s getting the same relief from physical contact that you’re feeling. The only difference is that you’re restraining yourself much better than he is right now. And while Jeffrey might be kind of a nerd, he’s bigger and stronger than you. You’re not sure you could fight him off. Even if you wanted to.

“Jeffrey?” you say uncertainly - not because it doesn’t feel good but because you feel like you should for his sake. The irony isn’t lost on you that after all your complaints about Fin respecting your free will, you want Jeffrey to ignore it.

That you want him to pin you down and get off however he likes.

It seems to jolt something in him. “Shit.” He jerks his hips back slightly and your whole body screams in protest. “I don’t know what - I don’t know why I did that.”

Your pussy throbs. “Do it again,” you whisper.

“Wha - really?”

Jeffrey looks down from your face to your body and back again. You breathe deeply, trying to calm yourself.

“Unless - unless you don’t want to?” you breathe.

Jeffrey swoops down and shuts you up, kissing you like he’s been wanting to do it for fucking years. You can’t thread your hands through his curly hair the way you want to because his chest is trapping your hands firmly against your tits. Instead, you pant as his tongue licks inside your mouth. His teeth pull on your sensitive bottom lip, harder than you expected, but you like it. More than like it.

Jeffrey’s tongue slides down your neck, tasting the combination of sweat and melted ice on your skin. His hands push up the bottom of your soaked tank top and with reluctance, you release the comforting grip on your chest. Your discomfort is quickly replaced with pleasure when he pushes your breasts together with his own warm hands and sucks urgently on your nipples like he can’t decide which one he wants to pay attention to first.

You squirm underneath him. You need these jeans off. You need his everything off.

“Fuck - let me - let me see you,” you whimper.

“Mhm,” he murmurs and detaches himself from your nipple. “In a minute.”

He resumes his frantic sucking and slobbering all over your tits. The pulsing in your clit can’t be fucking ignored now. Every flick of his tongue against your chest makes your core clench and tighten.

“Please, Jeffrey.” You barely recognise the pathetic plea that leaves your lips. What he’s doing feels good, sure, but you need him to fuck you. It’s not just a want. You think you might spontaneously combust if he doesn’t start paying attention to your pussy.

He lifts himself off you and starts taking off his shirt. You watch his fingers undo every button as you carelessly yank off your jeans and underwear in one fell swoop and toss them into a pile with your shoes and sweater onto the luxuriously carpeted floor.

“Oh, god,” you say, in annoyance as he removes his shirt and you can see his muscular chest and toned stomach. “Of course you have abs.”

“And you’re mad about that?” he smirks.

“Because you have everything. You’re fucking… ugh, you’re fucking perfect.”

“Well,” he says, undoing his belt. “If that’s the case, you’re going to be really pissed off when you see this.”

That arrogant piece of -

Your train of thought is cut off when he takes his cock in his hand.

He’s right.

You’re furious.

Furious that not only does Jeffrey have a perfect face and perfect body has a fucking perfect cock too. Suddenly your mouth feels dry. You know a thing or two about dating men on Forbes’ Richest List - and all previous experience has shown you that the Venn Diagram of billionaires, tiny dicks and premature ejaculators is practically a circle.

But Jeffrey? It looks like Jeffrey is a fucking outlier. Well, at least on the first two.

“I hate you right now,” you complain, and lie back down, watching him stroke himself between your legs.

“I can change your mind,” he grins and lowers his head to kiss your stomach.

As soon as his lips graze your soft skin, your thigh muscles twitch. “Ah, fuck. No - wait. Just fuck me. Please,” you whine.

You don’t really understand why you’re saying it. If there’s something you love it’s having a powerful man with his face buried between your legs. God knows you’ve been through enough of them.

But something - something chemical - at the back of your mind is yelling at you that you need fucked. Hard. Now.

“You don’t want me to -?”

“Later,” you plead.

You don’t need to tell him twice. From the sight of his leaking cock, you know why. The same ache is pulsing through his veins.

“Fuck, c’mere,” he grunts, pulling you closer by the hips. Jeffrey runs the head of his cock along your dripping slit and you almost cry out with need.

“Just put it in - oh, fuck -��

The instruction on your lips is cut off when he pushes forcefully through your folds. As soon as he fully sheathes himself, he slides his hands under your shoulders, pressing his full body weight into yours as he starts thrusting into you.

Normally, you’re a perfectionist. Your profession demands it, of course, but your demands don’t stop in the kitchen. In the bedroom, you have a particular way of liking things to be done and you’re not shy about expressing them. But right now, for the first time ever, your body doesn’t care about the finer details. Your pleasure doesn’t need to be carefully constructed in the exact way and order you’ve previously always needed.

All your pussy craves is exactly what Jeffrey is doing to it - which is fucking pounding you with seemingly zero regard for your own pleasure. As soon as he feels your pussy squeezing around him, some kind of basic instinct takes over and he’s merely using you as a tight hole to fuck himself into.

“Jesus, fuck, Jeffrey…”

You wrap your legs around his little waist, opening your hips up further so he can drill right into your G-spot. Your walls clamp and convulse around him as every sloppy, wet thrust draws your orgasm closer and closer.

“Fuckfuckfuck - yesssss,” you sob through gritted teeth right in his ear. You can tell by the way his fist in your hair tightens at the noises you’re making that he loves hearing you moan so unashamedly.

And you’re right. Because Jeffrey never thought you’d be like this. Always keeping him at arm’s length as a professional acquaintance. Never anything more. A fleeting flirtation maybe once or twice in all the years you’d known him. But never any indication that made him think you actually liked him. Never anything that would have him guessing that one day you’d end up wriggling underneath him, practically fucking yourself up into him and whimpering in his ear.

You can feel your pussy leaking all over Finn’s leather sofa when he moans something raggedly into the juncture of your neck. Your name.

Oh - fuck.

You were sort of lost in the fuzzy, clouded haze of how good he felt you almost forgot it was Jeffrey Steinberg who was fucking you until you heard your name on his lips. Jeffrey Steinberg and his slutty, dorky little glasses and his perfect fucking body that you can’t even see right now because you’re staring at the wood-panelled ceiling.

“Let me - let me see you,” you pant and gently push on his shoulders.

Jeffrey lifts himself off of you and without pulling out, keeps fucking you on his knees with one of your legs over his shoulder. Fuck - this angle. He’s so deep. And, Christ, so beautiful. His toned body is sticky with sweat, right down to the smattering of hair covering his lower abdomen. You look down to see his thick cock sliding in and out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So fucking sloppy,” he groans, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he too looks over your body, watching your tits bounce with every slapping thrust into you.

His concentration face is cute. Devastatingly so. But something’s missing…

“Where’s your glasses?”

Jeffrey’s hand caresses your face and the heel of his palm moves the wire frames, making you realise you’re still wearing them.

“Do you want them back?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“You look slutty in them too,” he says and cups your face. He drags his thumb across your lip and you open your mouth so you can suck it.

“Mm-mm-mm…” Your hum around his thumb, stuttered by every pounding of his hips against yours gives you something to concentrate on. God, you’re so close. So fucking close. And you try to stop bucking your hips because you really, don’t want to cum just yet.

But it’s like Jeffrey is reading your mind.

“You gonna cum for me?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. Because instinct tells you that as soon as you both cum, whatever hormones Nico has pumped into these oysters will probably leave your system. And that this will all be over. That you’ll go back to being friends.

“Not - fuck - not yet.” Is all you can manage to stammer as Jeffrey’s hips continue their relentless pursuit into yours.

“C’mon, I can tell you’re close,” he says, right as your pussy clenches around his length. “We’ve been down here for so long. Aren’t you tired of waiting?”

“I don’t - oh, god… I don’t want this to be over.” Jeffrey looks at you so intently that you need to shut your eyes. It’s like staring at the sun - if you don’t look away you’ll get burned. “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet…” The words keep spilling out like a mantra. If you keep repeating it, it’ll be true - right?

Wrong.

Everything pulls up in your core and tightens like a spring coiling. Oh, shit.

“This isn’t going to be over after you cum. It’s never going to be over. You’re trapped down here with me, remember?”

Fuck.

“Eyes on me,” he continues. “Look at me when you cum.” You look up at Jeffrey helplessly through his own askew, slightly steamed-up glasses still on your face. “I’ve wanted to see you like this for - for so long.”

Like this? With your flushed cheeks and messy hair and sweat practically pooling on your stomach from the heat? The corners of his mouth turn upwards in a gentle smile, showing off his dimples before he turns his head to kiss your calf leaning against his shoulder.

It’s so sweet. You’re done for.

There’s no stopping your orgasm now as you feel a surge of heat and the contracting of muscles in your abdomen.

“So - fuck - so fucking pretty,” he says through gritted teeth as he watches you squirm. The pleasant way you wriggle against him and force yourself to maintain eye contact spurs him on. He grabs your hips and fucks himself as fast and as deep as he can into you, pounding into your G-spot as you speed past the point of no return. “That’s it, baby, you can cum for me.”

Christ.

“Fuck, Jeffrey, I’m - fuck - I’m -”

But just what you are is cut off when your climax takes hold of you and shuts down your loquaciousness. Everything goes black and you barely realise what’s happening - all you can focus on is your pussy camping down and spasming around him. It’s only when you feel the sensation of his glasses pressed into your face do you realise Jeffrey is kissing you.

He grinds his hips deep into yours, cumming deep inside you as your own ecstasy sends fireworks ricocheting from your core right to your extremities.

.Jeffrey sits back on his knees again, his hips still rocking gently into you, forcing the combined mess of his cum and your wetness to spill down between your legs and all over Fin’s couch.

“Jeffrey, that was - ”

“We’re not done yet,” says Jeffrey smearing a wet thumb across your clit. “I told you - you’re trapped here with me.”

Your eyes roll back in your head.

You think you might need to revisit your Venn diagram.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jeffrey both lie, sprawled out and naked on the carpeted floor of the speakeasy. Both wet. Both sticky. Both trying to catch your breath. You have no idea where his glasses are.

Your mind feels clearer now and you wonder if his does too. You turn your head to look at him, frowning up at the ceiling.

“Jeffrey, are you alright…?”

“I’m worse than Fin,” he groans.

Worse than Fin? This is serious. In your eyes, nobody is worse than Fin. You prop yourself up on your elbow. “What do you mean?”

“Always trying to get what I can’t have.”

Your frown. “I don’t understand. What can’t you have?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He runs his hand through his hair in that stressed-out way he always does. “The fact you thought I was a good customer? When all I was doing was parading my dates in front of you in a stupid attempt to make you jealous.”

“You - you were?” The thought that Jeffrey didn’t just want you because he’s ingested god-knows-what chemicals Nico has pumped into those oysters sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.

He laughs at himself scornfully. “I never wanted to be there with them. I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

“Are you kidding me?”

He’s startled by your tone. “What?”

“It took a fucking asteroid hitting Earth for you to admit you like me?”

“You never seemed interested!”

“What was I gonna say? ‘Hey, Jeffrey. I know you’re busy being a literal genius but I’m just about finished braising some fish if you’d like a meeting of the minds after this?’”

“Yeah? Well, what was I going to say to you? ‘Hey, I know you’re the most talented, in-demand chef in the world but can I take you to someone else’s restaurant?’”

“Uh? Yeah!”

“Oh.” You both look at each other and bust out laughing at the absurdity of this conversation. “I’m really not as smart as they say,” he says, closing his eyes in amusement.

You let the back of your hand fall on his bare chest, hitting him playfully.

“Well, I’m not exactly ‘in-demand’ anymore.”

“I wouldn’t say that just yet,” says Jeffrey with a smirk. Without warning he climbs on top of you. “I can be pretty demanding.”

#freddie stroma #evergreen podcast #evergreen #hidden signal: evergreen #hidden signal podcast #jeffrey steinberg #jeffrey steinberg x reader #qcode #fanfic

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beefromanoff · 1 year ago

Text

Project Mockingbird Ch. 4

summary: lots of testing to find out what's going on with Charlotte...hopefully a breakthrough?

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: let me know what you think! thanks for reading, xox!

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_________________________________________________________

The first thing I felt was a pounding in my head. I wondered if I was back in Vegas, if I’d overdone it the night before, the bright lights searing through my eyelids. Groaning, I remembered I couldn’t get hungover.

I shifted, trying to prop myself up on my elbows without opening my eyes to the horrific fluorescents above me. Like a knife in my gut, memories rushed back to me.

Him. Rage. Darkness. Nothing.

Shit.

I knew this was a possibility, but I’d hoped against hope that it was just a fearful thought. It had been decades since I’d seen him, and those weren’t exactly stress-free circumstances. I’d thought that after so much time, after being away from HYDRA…but I was wrong. Everything they did to me was still very much present. The instincts they’d drilled into me took precedent even over my own thoughts and desires.

The second thing I felt was a shocking amount of mobility around my arms. My eyes flew open. I was in a hospital bed, still in my workout clothes. My shoes had been tossed to the side of the room. The walls were light gray, sleek. Slightly less sterile-feeling than the average hospital, but still made my skin crawl. I was alone in the room, but I could hear the murmur of voices just outside the door. My heart was pounding in my ears and reflected by the erratic beeping of the monitor to my left. I looked down to see a few wires protruding from the collar of my shirt.

With a whoosh, the door slid open to reveal a small crowd. I recognized Natasha and Steve, someone I recognized as Tony Stark standing a few feet behind them with another dark haired man.

Nat stepped into the room, a smile on her face but her whole body tense. “How you feeling, hot stuff?”

“Where are the restraints?” I set my jaw, staring at my hands.

“What do you mean?”

“I just proved I can’t be trusted, can’t control myself,” My voice was low. “I attacked one of you. I should be restrained.”

Steve looked at the ground, eyes clouded. Tony looked up from the tablet he was holding, observing the room. It was the man next to him who spoke first.

“I know a thing or two about not being able to control yourself, trust yourself.” He was a little skittish, but seemed genuine. “You’re in more captivity in your head than you are here. We aren’t in the business of keeping prisoners. You won’t be restrained as long as you’re fighting something that you didn’t ask to have done to you.”

I lifted my eyes to look at him, giving him a slight nod of thanks.

“Touchy-feely stuff aside - I’m Tony, by the way - I do think we should work out where this is coming from.” He stepped forward and plopped down on the edge of my bed, surprising me with his casual attitude. “I assume you don’t exactly have the warm fuzzies towards labs or doctors, but I promise that Dr. Banner and I aren’t here to do anything but help.” Tony gestured to the man I didn’t know, who nodded.

I looked at Natasha for reassurance before responding. “What do you mean…help?”

“Well, to be frank, there’s clearly something different about you.” Tony laid the tablet on his lap and looked straight at me. “We just don’t know the specifics. Without that, we can’t do much except throw you into a chokehold when you get a little murderous on us.”

“Tony,” Natasha warned.

“What he’s saying is that we can…investigate. We can work with you to figure out what was done to cause that episode you had, and hopefully prevent it from happening in the future.” The man, Dr. Banner, explained.

“Is that even possible?”

This time, it was Steve who answered me. “It was with Bucky.” I snapped my eyes to him. “He had a similar…he struggled at first too. For him, it was trigger words. They were programmed into him, anytime he heard them he would lose himself until we could-”

“Until we could knock him out.” Natasha cut him off, speaking matter-of-factly. I appreciated the lack of sugar coating.

“But…you were able to fix him? Stop the words from having an effect?” I tried to stop the hope snaking its way into my heart, anything to push back against the fear of my own lack of control.

“Yes.” Steve smiled. “He hasn’t had an episode in years. Any anger he feels now is totally under his own volition.”

I nodded slowly, thinking through my options. I couldn’t exactly say no, keep living here for free, and run the risk of attacking another one of their friends.

“When can we start?” I grit my teeth and looked at Tony and Dr. Banner, who glanced at each other.

“We can, if you’re up for it, we can start today?” Dr. Banner shrugged.

“As soon as possible. Please.”

_____________

“Call me Bruce, seriously.” He smiled, handing me a cup of water that I graciously chugged.

We’d been working for the past twelve hours, according to the last time I saw the clock. The day had come and gone, judging by the sun beam peaking around the window shade in my room that had slowly given way to night. It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to be, and I could tell that Tony and Dr. Ban-Bruce weren’t the type to put a project down when they hadn’t had a breakthrough yet.

First, we did the standard labs. Blood work, blood pressure, retinal scans. Then a few more in-depth tests, an MRI and a CAT scan to give them a better look at what was happening inside me.

Right now, I was hooked up to a machine that mapped out my brain in a three-dimensional, floating model in front of us. I sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling. Electrodes were stuck to my head, neck, and chest, wires going every which way. Natasha had lent me a hair tie to secure my hair in a loose bun on top of my head, making it easier to decorate me with the sensors. After a few hours, Natasha and Steve had left to go eat. It was slow work, admittedly. A few empty coffee cups were strewn across the side table in my room, one having toppled on the floor as a result of Bruce not-so-gently setting it down.

“How about this one?” Tony clicked a button and brought up a hologram of James Barnes, three dimensional in front of me. He was in full armor and mask, holding a hefty gun and looking around for someone. His eyes were cold, distant. His hair was longer then than it was when I saw him out by the lake. Now, it was long enough to tuck behind his ears but not nearly down to his shoulders like this rendering showed.

“Nope. Nothing.” The model of my brain showed nothing beyond the standard yellow flecks of electricity as I spoke, watching the hologram stalk around the room.

“Well, kid, I think there’s only one thing left for us to try.” He sighed, clicking the hologram off. “Clearly, the reaction you’re having isn’t strictly visual. It has to do with Barnes, but we can rule out the trigger being anything electronic. We’ve tried photos, videos, audio recordings, and now holograms, nothing. It’s not causing you to go all haywire.”

“What’s the next step?” I asked cautiously.

“The next step would be live-stimulus monitoring…we’d-”

Tony cut Bruce off. “We’d bring Barnes in here and see how you react.”

“I don’t-”

“Before you say no,” Bruce interrupted, holding his hand out. “We would take precautions. We can restrain you if you prefer, but we don’t have to. We can give you an IV with a fast-acting sedative at the ready. We’ll be prepared if you have an…adverse reaction.”

I swallowed, my heart already speeding up. “If you say so.” I was shocked at how calm I’d been able to stay this whole time. The kindness of the team combined with my paralyzing fear of having another episode allowed me to shove my anxiety down, at least for the time being. My desire to be free of these mental shackles overpowered my deep-seated fear of being experimented on, prodded and poked.

After we’d discussed what precautions I was comfortable with (and the answer was all of them, please) they left me alone in the room with a soft-spoken female lab tech. I’d stripped off my jacket so she could start my IV, forcing myself to think of anything else to avoid the wave of anxiety that came from needles and nurses and everything in between. When it was done and taped down to my arm, she smiled and slid the doors back open. Bruce explained to me what they were looking for in my brain waves and how it would help them figure out what the issue was, but he sounded a million miles away. I was already getting hot, nervous. No one expects being brainwashed and conditioned to kill to be so embarassing. The shame from my earlier episode still sat heavily in my gut, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for two more people to witness my lack of control.

“Ms. Rossi? Are you ready?” The tech spoke gently, positioned by my wrist with heavy-duty restraints sitting open. I nodded and allowed her to set my arm inside and fasten the straps tightly. Once my left arm was all but immobile, strapped to my side, she scurried over to the right side.

When my arms were pinned to the bed, flat at my sides, the tech was poised in the corner with her hand over the button to release the sedative into my veins, I took a shaky, deep breath.

“I’m ready.”

Bruce nodded and tapped his tablet. I heard footsteps coming from down the hall, a few sets. I matched the cadence in my head, determining one set to be Steve’s and one Tony’s. That left the third as the other half to our little experiment. Two sets of footsteps trailed off, hovering a few feet away, out of view. The third set, slow and methodical, approached the opening to my room.

“Come on in, Sergeant Barnes.” Bruce called, eyes flicking from me to the doorway to the model of my brain.

In two heavy steps, he turned the corner and came into view. James, Sergeant Barnes, whatever he went by - stood right in front of me. His lip was split, eye already beginning to yellow around the outside as a result of his accelerated healing. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears. Regarding me warily, he took another step in the room.

I sucked in a breath, trying to resist the inevitable but knowing it was necessary for the research. A white hot pain seared through my head, making me cry out. When I opened my eyes, I saw James wincing.

He must remember this.

For a moment, that sobering thought helped keep the rage from overtaking me. I spoke through clenched teeth, keenly aware of the adrenaline coursing through me.

“I’m…so…sorry,” I forced myself to meet his eyes, resisting the blackout so hard that I felt a blood vessel burst in my right eye. The last thing I saw before I succumbed to the darkness was a pair of sad blue eyes on mine.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“I’m…so…sorry,” Charlotte ground out, eyes locked on Bucky. A few strands of her dark hair were stuck to her forehead, coated with sweat as she fought the brainwashing. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, her eyes hardened. The straining on her face relaxed as she somehow shifted to something inhuman, something predatory.

A low growl rose in her throat as she attempted to lunge at Bucky, thrashing at the restraints. Her back arched and the force of her effort rocked the entire bed.

“Administer the sedative,” Bruce commanded. “Now!”

The lab tech nodded, pressing her thumb down on the button, releasing the drip into Charlotte’s IV. In the forty seconds that had elapsed between when Bucky stepped into the room and when the sedative sent her into a slump against the bed, Charlotte had already yanked so hard on her restraints that she’d made her wrists raw. There was a brief moment of silence after she went limp, all of them taking a moment to collect themselves.

“You okay?” Steve stepped around the corner, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Fine.” His jaw was clenched, less out of fear for the attempted attack but because he so vividly remembered the inability to trust his own mind, to act out of his own control. “That help?”

“I’d say so.” Tony looked incredulous as he raised a hand and turned the hologram in the air. What was formerly a mild, golden glow had shifted to a bright, intense red woven throughout the model.

“This is…insane.” Bruce was slightly open-mouthed, observing as Tony moved the rendering.

“What does this mean? Is this what you expected?” Steve frowned.

“What it looks like, I mean, initially…there’s some kind of conditioning at play here. Whether it’s optical or olfactory…something about Bucky’s physical presence invokes this extreme, visceral reaction. It literally changes her brain chemistry, rewrites her neural passages. You can see that all the areas that fire when she’s functioning normally, when she’s thinking or feeling something physical, or experiencing an emotion…all those are dormant.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance, both of their brows furrowed. Crossing his arms across his chest, Steve opened his mouth to speak before Tony cut him off.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m no neuroscience expert, unless you count the fifteen minutes of internet research I did roughly six hours ago,” He ran a hand along his jawline. “But it sounds like you’re saying they conditioned, programmed her to override all sense of self, consequence, and pain in order to stick to their…objective.”

Bruce nodded grimly. “It’s similar to what different countries did to soldiers in wars throughout history…give them drugs that suppress their decision making skills, inhibit their ability to feel pain. It allowed them to fight longer and often, fight through otherwise debilitating injuries or fatigue. That, combined with the right propaganda or indoctrination, can make an individual follow orders almost blindly…and definitely to their own detriment. Whatever HYDRA did to her, they took that concept and put it on a 10x multiplier. Plus, it’s not dependent on her continually receiving some drug. They literally programmed this into her.”

Bucky let out a deep breath, stepping out of the room and looking up at the ceiling. Watching his friend, Steve couldn’t decide what to ask first. Luckily, Natasha chose that moment to make her re-entrance.

“So what do we do now?” she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall.

“Nice of you to join us, Romanoff. Conveniently after any and all risk has subsided.” Tony raised his eyebrows.

“I figured surely two super soldiers, Iron Man and the Hulk had it covered. Plus, if that failed, you have Maddie.” She winked at the lab tech, still standing nervously in the corner.

“To answer your question,” Bruce interrupted, making rapid notes on his laptop. “I think we can fix it, relatively painlessly. Well…easily. Basically, we need to narrow down if the trigger is happening due to something visual or olfactory, her sense of smell. My guess, based on the fact that there was no effect from video footage or even holograms, is that it’s olfactory.”

“And if that’s the case?” Steve was still frowning, watching as Bucky slowly made his way back to the group.

“We would need to sever the olfactory nerve.” Bruce grimaced. “That’s why I wouldn’t say it’s entirely…painless. But it should be quick and effective.”

A groan from the bed interrupted them. All heads snapped to see Charlotte beginning to stir for the second time that day. Instinctively, Steve grabbed the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket and yanked him towards the door. They’d made it to the end of the hall before she’d even taken her second breath.

“D’work?” She slurred, eyelids heavy but fighting to open.

“It did.” Nat sat down on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Charlotte’s leg. “You did great.”

“How do you feel?” Bruce gestured to the lab tech to remove the restraints and they both set to work freeing her wrists. A band of raw skin circled her arms where she’d fought so violently. As soon as the restraints were set to the side, Maddie scurried out to get a bottle of ointment and q-tips to medicate the wounds.

“Never better,” She raised a hand to rub her temples, stopping when she felt all the wires still attached. Bruce nodded at Natasha and they both began gently tugging the electrodes from her face and chest.

“I think we got what we need. It’s been a long day, why don’t we stop for today and pick up in the morning. You should get some rest.” He smiled gently.

“Good call, Banner.” Tony stood, turning to Charlotte. “If you want, just this once, I’ll let you raid my personal snack stash. That’s where all the really good stuff is kept.”

She chuckled, leaning back. “Mmm, take a rain check. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“We used a pretty heavy dose on the sedative…even with your heightened metabolism, it’ll take a bit for it to completely leave your system.” Bruce’s eyes were apologetic.

“Better safe than…” She waved her hand, a yawn cutting her off.

“Alright boys, beat it.” Natasha stood. “Char, I’ll be back first thing in the morning with a breakfast spread like you wouldn’t believe. Sleep it off, it’s late anyways.”

Charlotte smiled lazily as her lids began to droop again. “S’a plan.”

“Sweet dreams, kiddo.” Tony’s voice was the last thing she heard before drifting back off to sleep.

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #avengers #bucky fluff #winter soldier #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #winter soldier fluff #winter solider x reader

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befuddled-calico-whump · 1 year ago

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Hand in Hand (part eleven)

cw: aftermath of whump, hospital setting, adult language

prev // au masterlist // next

~ ~ ~

Fleet soldiers come to collect him with weapons drawn and cuffs to replace his chains. They lift him from the bed and strap him to a stretcher, tight enough that he can barely move. Dan doesn't fight it.

They'll take him aboard and throw him in the brig. Probably interrogate him, probably transfer him to a place he has no hope of escaping once they're done. He doesn't care. Whatever they do to him, it can't be worse than Swift's ruthlessness and cold manipulation. Unlike her, the Fleet has rules.

He isn't so naive as to believe they actually follow those rules, but being an intergalactic organization puts them under a certain level of public scrutiny. And even if the Fleet-aligned public hate Dan, they won't be bold enough to condone his torture. He isn't safe, but he's safer. Wes is safer.

Maybe he can cut a deal with them. Comply and give them anything they want, in exchange for his friend's freedom. Something he'll never know again, but again, he doesn't care. He took his last breath of free air months ago.

He just has to hope they get to Wes in time.

The soldiers lift the stretcher, and he winces as the movement jostles his leg. He's barely left the bed at all since Swift dragged him away from Wes, and the few times he's been pulled from it have been agonizing. He's sure his leg is getting worse, not better. Is it bad enough now that it won't get better at all?

He can't linger on it. There's bigger things to worry about.

Like Wes.

Dan tries to get a look around as they carry him onto the ship and secure the stretcher, but he can barely lift his head.

"Where... where's my friend-- th-the other prisoner? Is he alive?"

He doesn't get a response. Fuck, he can't just not know. He needs to know that they have him, that they won't leave him behind.

"Please, give me an answer," he says, straining against the straps that hold him. "Just tell me you aren't leaving him, please."

"Shit, am I supposed to tell him something?" the soldier who speaks is talking to her teammate, not Dan, but he still picks up her whisper.

"Maybe it's best if we sedate him for the flight. I mean, it's Melchior."

Sedate him? No, they can't. Not until he knows Wes is okay. Not until he sees him being brought onboard. If they can't even promise him that, what does that mean? Is he dead?

"Don't, please, I just wanna know--"

But the soldiers only ignore him as one of them preps a needle.

And as much as he tries to fight it, Dan can't escape the drug as it pulls him under.

~ ~ ~

He wakes to fluorescent light and a low ceiling, metal ringing his left wrist, connecting him to a hospital bed.

A ship. He's on a Fleet ship.

His leg has been heavily bandaged, and he can't feel it. They must've numbed the pain there somehow. For a moment, Dan just stares at the blanket, at his own hands. He isn't free. But isn't Swift. It isn't---

Realization hits him like a bullet and he shoots up, his head spinning and woozy as he looks around the room. Wes. Where...

It doesn't take long to spot him. The med bay is small, and there's only one other bed. Wes lies in it, asleep or unconscious. His skin looks even paler in this light, his many wounds a sharp contrast. He's hooked up to an IV bag. Dan is too, he realizes.

Wes looks awful, looks like he's in so much pain, but he's out. He's here, he's alive.

"Wes," Dan croaks, though he doubts his friend can hear him. Tears are building in his eyes, but for once they're falling in relief. Whatever comes next, whatever sentence he has to take from the Fleet, Swift can't touch them anymore. She can't hurt Wes anymore.

And he'll die before anyone else gets the chance to.

~ ~ ~

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast @kixngiggles @shywhumpauthor @whumpsday @whumpacabra

#idk if ill write many more parts of this #it would be fun to explore because things will take a different turn due to Nabi not being involved #Jin and the rest will try to keep her away from the pair and since she doesn't know the state theyre in or how the rest of the crew reacts #she has no reason to seek them out #of course she might happen on something later and take a stand but it's not guaranteed #riotkings au #rescue #whump aftermath

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perspectivestarters · 9 months ago

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Perspective's Sentence Starters; Who You Selling For by The Pretty Reckless (Part I)

THE WALLS ARE CLOSING IN / HANGMAN

Get your shit together.

There's no light.

I can't see at all.

There's no one at all.

I regained control.

It’s burning my skin.

The food is hurting my throat.

I know it’s ignorance.

The human body fascinates me.

The mark of the new light is devastating.

I know the pain is comforting me.

He died by sacrifice.

I won't get out alive.

I think I am gonna spend my last night here.

I think I can finally see clear.

Stand straight, brace your neck.

You think you've lost control?

Don't take your soul.

Time flies by the rank of years.

Humans die by the hand of fear.

Spent my life living blind with a picture in my mind.

A vision of the sun but now my life is done.

As I wait for the light to come, I will take nothing.

My life is done as I wait for the light to come.

OH MY GOD

Wish I was a normal human being.

I'm just like them.

I am a victim of my own self-worth.

I wanna take it back.

I wanna take it back to when I was so dumb and so innocent.

I shine like the sun.

Wish I could think.

Wish I could do something smarter than sing.

Don't try for perfect, it's never enough.

I'm just hanging with my head down.

Wish I was dead.

Wish I could turn off the noise in my head.

Oh my god, wish I was numb.

Oh my god, wish I could pray.

Wish I could believe in the words your religions all say.

I'm gonna drown in depression again.

TAKE ME DOWN

Been waitin' at these crossroads forever and a day.

How much harder can I play?

You know I gave my life to rock n' roll.

Mama begged me please, she got down on her knees,

You'll burn in that sun.

I'm the only one that's standing here.

Don't you have no fear.

I'm either last or I've already won.

Take me down.

Won't you take me down?

Tell me your desire.

Tell me why you pulled me from the fire.

We'll seal the deal with a kiss.

I wanna raise the dead.

Don't care what happens when I die, as long as I'm alive

All I wanna do is rock.

Sign with the devi.

I got a record deal.

PRISONER

I'm a prisoner.

Won't you set me free?

You could have my body, but you can't have me.

I know I'm a criminal.

Don't you tell on me.

You can cross your fingers, but you can't cross me.

You can have my money.

WILD CITY

It's that time of the season.

God must have a reason when the temperature drops.

One more nameless baby and a momma in shame.

Not one of the fathers of the churches came.

It ain't no place for a girl so young and pretty.

The city ain't no place for a lonely girl.

It could happen to me.

It could happen to you.

It's the luck of the draw.

It's the blow of the dice.

There ain't nothin' that you can do.

She couldn't weather those streets alone.

BACK TO THE RIVER

The world looks just the same.

It's hard to be criminal when you all know my name.

Sometimes I wander.

Sometimes I wanna be free.

You can be king of me, and I'll be the queen.

No one listens to me.

I'm just trying to get away.

I'm going back to the river.

I'm going back to where no one will find me.

We're going back to the river.

My mama taught me.

You best believe in Jesus if you'll make it in the world.

I'm going back to where no one knows my name.

There ain't no doubt about it.

I'm just fading in the gray.

I'm going back to where the devil can't find me.

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence prompts #lyric sentence starters #lyric starters #music starters #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #exodusmusing #*mystarters #*wysf

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hexenmond · 1 year ago

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A dreamling fic idea

Haven't posted here in forever, and the first thing pouring out of me is a wild writing prompt I came up with today, having spent more than two months devouring dreamling fanfic (which is wild in itself, maybe I'll write about that as well. The devouring I mean).

Most of the idea comes from À Cœur Vaillant by WyvernQuill. It's a fishbowl rescue fic, but the one who does the actual rescuing is a still very young Alex Burgess, who in turn gets saved from his father's ire by Paul McGuire. So that's lovely. (Go read it!)

And in general I like it when people who have done shitty things come around at some point. Like Hob got involved in the slave trade and came to see just how wrong that was. Because we're humans, and we fuck up sometimes, and it can take us a long time to be able to see it – and then what happens? How do we deal with our own shittiness once it has irrevocably happened? Do we try to be better, or shy away from the mess?

So I thought, what if Dream's in the bowl, and Alex shoots Jessamy, and old Roderick dies, and Alex is left with a prisoner he never wanted but is too cowardly to set free (canon so far). And Paul tells him it's wrong, repeatedly, but is a coward himself, so nothing actually changes.

But some time before 1989, Paul McGuire finds it within himself to put his foot down – and there are several interesting things that could make this change of heart happen. Possibly a coincidental chat with a certain immortal about regrets, or just some life event that shakes him awake. And he goes to Alex and says, hey, this is wrong and can't go on. In your heart of hearts, you know that as well as I do. We should free him, even if that means we'll die. We aren't free while he is not free.

And Alex protests and all of course, and tries to talk him out of it again, and panics, and flips his shit – but when Paul is still determined after some days and takes him by the hand to go downstairs, he goes along. Scared to death, but between knowing Paul is right and loving him, he doesn't fight.

So Paul stands before the fishbowl, scared but determined, holding Alex next to him, who is on the verge of collapsing, and he addresses Dream, basically saying something along the lines of "we should have done this straight after the old codger died, and we didn't out of cowardice, but now we're going to set you free, and hope that you have some mercy on us for this". And he breaks the circle and the glass, or whatever it takes.

Now, this might happen just very shortly before Dream's scheduled meeting with Hob, and like I've read in a couple of other fics, Dream might have been agonising over having to miss this appointment. So getting to go after all might just temper his wrath the teensiest bit, if not immediately then maybe at a later point.

I can see this going two ways at this point: he takes great pleasure in trapping Alex in eternal nightmares for killing Jessamy, the guards as well for good measure, but he leaves Paul unscathed for being the driving force behind his release and doing it before June 7th, 1989. And then he storms off to find his tools and sulk and get ready for his not-date.

Or, he does that but Paul has already geared himself up to be incredibly brave that day and so dares to ask what Dream has done to Alex, and Dream says "best of my nightmares around the clock", and Paul takes one deep breath and then begs him to split the nightmares between them both, so that they would share nightmares every night but still be awake together during the day. And Dream says, oh well, your funeral, and makes it so, and then storms off.

In both cases Paul is very miserable (nightmares every night forever is bound to leave you permanently sleep-deprived, or else he has to live with Alex's screams and permasleep). And at some point he might speak to Hob. Again, bundle of possible scenarios:

he'd talked to Hob before (see above) and they have some previous acquaintance;

he just washes up in The New Inn like a commoner and starts drinking, and Hob is a barkeeper with many years of experience;

they might talk while Dream is still picking up his tools and before the appointment, or afterwards.

And at some point Hob makes some connection, depending on this and also how open Dream is after his imprisonment.

Since I personally feel that revenge does not bring lasting satisfaction, let alone joy, I could see Hob helping Dream grieve Jessamy, and also appreciate the understanding he gained while in involuntary timeout. And maybe he relents after some time, maybe because he took a good look at Alex and Paul's nightmares. Or gives them a task to accomplish.

The end? I don't know. Depends on the story you want to tell, who and what it's really about. But I like the premise, is what I wanted to say.

#writing prompt #writing inspiration #dreamling #the sandman #if you like this feel free to run with it!#please let me know if you post something though #I'd LOVE to read it #and I am extremely unlikely to write it myself #for all sorts of reasons

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sunwarmed-ash · 10 months ago

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Wip Update- The Eden Club

omg endings are so fucking hard. I'm like this,

trying to connect together all the shit I set up in the early chapters LAST YEAR.

bruhhh

anyway here's the first 15 chapters and below the cut is a lil sneak peak of the last chapter!

The work-in-progress polycule has cleaned up, left the club, and resumed their naked, lying in bed activities at Hank’s. Sumo is laying comfortably across all of their feet, more than a little ecstatic to have Connor and Gavin back home.

Connor’s laying on his back sandwiched between his humans, his left hand intertwined with Gavin’s. Gavin’s free hand is holding a half-smoked cigarette, but It’s been over 3 minutes since he’s last taken a puff. Hank’s got Connor’s other hand raised against his warm, if not a little prickly from his mustache. He’s smiling, for the first time in a long time; happy he’s got his whole family under one roof again.

It’s quiet, but it's also comfortable. Natural, and everything the three of them hoped this could be when this all started.

For the last fifteen minutes, the trio has been content to just bask in the peaceful moments.

“Hey Connor?” Gavin’s question are the first words spoken in minutes.

“Yes?” he chips, turning his face to give Gavin his full attention. The man’s eyes stay on the ceiling, but his spike in heart rate signals Gavin knows Connor’s looking at him.

“Can I ask you a question? Like… a personal one?”

Hank has tuned in too. Connor can feel his body shifting beside him.

“Of course Gavin.”

Now Gavin is quiet. His blood pressure has risen a bit more, indicating the likelihood of a thorny question.

“Do you…” Gavin swallows, “you know, like it?”

Connor’s own anxiety and simulated systems react suspiciously to the question. More due to the rawness of the last 48 hours than an impression Gavin was trying to trap him.

“Do I like what?” Connor deflects, hoping to buy another few seconds.

“You know what I’m asking...” Gavin says but his tone doesn’t indicate judgement, jealously, or resentment. Just genuine curiosity. Which is the main reason why Connor he answers the question.

“...It's complicated.”

“Baby,” Hank chimes in, winding his hand around Connor’s middle and squeezing him close. “We live and breathe ‘complicated.’ Lay it on us.”

Connor smiles, the body heat and dual support from them helping him feel more at ease than he’s been in weeks.

“Yes, I suppose I do like- aspects of it. But there are other aspects, I could do without.”

“Like uh, like what?” Gavin asks further and Connor’s quiet again. Fear telling him to keep his mouth shut.

“Hey, we’re not going anywhere,” Hank reassures, and Gavin makes sure to nod his agreement too.

“Thank you,” Connor shudders, tension melting off him near instantly. He didn't realize how badly he needed to hear that. It's the only thing allowing him to continue the dialogue. “Certain dynamics of the club may have changed, but that doesn't mean the clientele necessarily has. And I know, I know, you don’t trust him Hank, but Elijah has given me more freedoms than even I could imagine.”

Hank tenses slightly behind him at the mention of Kamski and Connor feels terrible for all the discomfort he’s caused Hank this last month.

Those statements certainly pique Gavin’s attention.

“Whoa, Elijah, like Elijah Kamski?”

“Yeah,” Hank growls, “Slimeball bought the damn place.”

Gavin’s eyebrows flew to his hairline.

“What happened to Floyd?”

“Prison.”

“Oh shit,” Gavin laughs, “yeah, well, serves him right.”

“In many ways a change in management has been beneficial for the club,” Connor adds. “I make my own schedule, Elijah doesn't take a cut of my tips. I can work the floor or the rooms whenever I want.”

“Huh,” Gavin says, “Sounds too good to be true, sure he's not playing you?”

“Not entirely,” Connor shrugs, “but so far he’s kept things professional.”

Hank scoffs a little bitterly at that, obviously his opinion on Elijah Kamski will take more time to change.

“More or less,” Connor compromises.

“What's more or less?” Gavin asks.

“Workplace fraternization for starters,” Hank can’t seem to keep behind his teeth.

Connor huffs a bit of his own frustration. But he understands. And he’d much rather they talk about this, than not.

“Everything has been mutually consensual. He’s running a clean operation, in legal terms at least. Though I doubt that place could pass a health inspection.”

“Whoa, whoa, hang on,” Gavin interrupts, still catching up with all of this new information, “you fucked your boss?”

“Both of them, technically.” Connor says, the side of his mouth going up. He hoped referring to Hank would ease some of the shared tension in the room.

It did, 30%.

Now Gavin’s jaw drops open and he laughs, loud and braying, positivity amused.

“He any good?”

Hank bops the top of Gavin’s head with his hand to end that conversation.

“What? I'm just curious!” Gavin defends.

Hank rolls his eyes.

“Yeah well I’m not.”

Connor squeezes Hank’s hand before pivoting.

“I’m very lucky to have two strong officers to protect me.”

Hank barks his laughter, but it sounds genuine and not forced.

"Anytime babe."

Hank's lips on his shoulder again give him the confidence to continue catching Gavin up.

“I also wouldn't have understood the numerous benefits of sex toys and orgasms without the job. I think we’re all incredibly thankful for that.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Gavin laughs.

“I still want to take you two to V’s shop. I think we’re due a shopping trip.”

“I can’t even remember the last time I was in a sex shop,” Hank chuckles, but agrees.

“Wait, who’s V?” Gavin asks and Connor flushes in a combination of embarrassment and fear.

“Another android I’ve been seeing… They own an adult toy store on Cherry and 8th… I’m sorry I didn't prioritize telling you two about them sooner. I actually think the three of you would get along.”

The suggestion gets a moment of hesitation before gavi asks,

“S that a girl name or a boy name? V?"

Connor exhales his anxitey.

"It's their name. They’re nonbinary. I spent majority of today with them actually, when I was struggling. It was helpful, to get an outside perspective on everything I was, I am feeling.”

“Are things, ya know, serious?” Gavin asks and Connor doesn't need his advanced sensors to pick up on his insecurity bleeding through.

“Our relationship status raised today, but I’m not looking to replace either of you. And neither are they with their partner. They’ve been good to me. I’d love for you to meet them. Should you be interested.”

Connor can feel Hank and Gavin exchanging looks before Hank shrugs, pressing a kiss to Connor’s shoulder.

“Sure. Should have plenty of time. Seeing as uh,” Hank clears his throat, before saying the next 7 words in a rush, “I’m suspended for the next few weeks...”

Gavin and Connor both bolt upright in the bed, wearing nearly identical shocked expressions.

“Hank!”

“What the phck happened!?”

Their motions startle Sumo up and off the bed in a big commotion.

“Wow, you guys could be twins,” Hank mutters sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

#sinful sunday #the eden club #hankconvin #hank x connor x gavin #hankvin800 #gavin reed #hank anderson #connor rk800 #detroit become human #find me on ao3 #sunwarmed ash #links in pinned #i post new stuff every sunday

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