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1dream-big1 · 1 month

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Jouw liefdesleven is een sticky situation

soo, uh, i wrote my first fanfiction and smut ever. this is explicit rpf, please just scroll away if you're against it.

summary: horny joost jerking off in the shower and thinking about the reader pairing: joost x fem!reader word count: around 1.9k cw: 18+, jerking off, mentions of unprotected sex, oral (m!receiving), handjob, no use of y/n, all lowercase

not proof read, i only used grammarly to check for random mistakes since english is my second language lol.

all these festivals were getting exhausting – not just physically, but also mentally. sure, it was fun, addicting even, to have all these people shouting his name, his lyrics, being completely enamoured by his mere existence. it wasn’t always just positive, sometimes he would have people looking for him, digging up personal things, being disrespectful. it hurt, but unfortunately, that was just a part of being famous. he didn’t want to think about that though.

he just finished another performance – the energy was great, everything went well, yet he couldn’t shake off this weird feeling. the whole crew decided to go out for a few drinks. that would for sure help with that feeling, right? it was something they used to do way more often, but lately, the hype was too much and it was hard for him to unwind and truly enjoy the rest of the evening when he wasn’t sure if someone was secretly watching him, taking photos, or recording him. this city, however, was quite lowkey. they all went to a place where they had a vip space reserved for them. the music was okay, not his taste, but it didn’t make his ears bleed. not that it mattered in the end, all he wanted was to just get his goddamn beer. maybe the alcohol hitting his bloodstream would help with the feeling which he still wasn’t able to shake off. the conversation was fun, filled with so many inside jokes and stupid memes that they had seen on social media, but the uneasiness still sat deep inside him even after several beers. he didn’t want to drink more, they all had to leave pretty early the next day, and traveling with a bad hangover wasn’t exactly on his to-do list.

„not to be the party pooper,“ he interrupted the ongoing chat and continued: „i think i’ll leave you here. something’s kinda off, i dunno, think i just need to shower and sleep.“ he got up, grabbing his hoodie that was lying next to him on the couch. „no worries, man, get some rest,“ said one of his friends, they all exchanged goodbyes and with the hoodie over his head he left the bar. it was already around midnight, he could hear some people yelling in the distance but he didn’t really pay any attention to the noise. the cold breeze felt good, „smells like summer,“ he thought to himself as he breathed in the fresh air and smiled. so many crazy memories made during such nights. he stopped under a flickering post lamp, dug into one of his pockets, and took out a pack of cigarettes, all of them almost gone. „shit, i’ll have to buy some tomorrow,“ he muttered under his breath as he was taking one of the cigarettes, putting it between his lips. he lit the cigarette, smoke filling his mouth and then inhaling it all. the walk towards the hotel didn’t take him too long, in just under ten minutes, he was standing in front of his room and unlocking the door.

the room was spacious, and quite fancy as well, there was some expensive-looking modern art hanging over the king-sized bed. it didn’t matter to him that much though. as long as he got to sleep somewhere. he used to move so much, going from couch to couch, living in different foster families’ houses. nothing felt like home, not even his own house. the only time he actually felt at home was in your embrace. „shit,“ he sighed as he started thinking about you. he really missed the feeling of you two being together in bed, him lying on top of you and you holding him closely, one hand caressing his back while the other one was lightly scratching his scalp. feeling your chest lift with each breath, you kissing him on the top of his head, playing with his hair. such intimate moments that were taken away from him while he was doing all these shows. he sighed again and rubbed his eyes. all he could think about was you, making out with you and touching all the sensitive places that always made you lightly moan into his mouth and lean into his touch.

he pulled off his hoodie and threw it somewhere haphazardly, then removed his shirt and pulled his pants off, kicking both in the same direction as the hoodie. he looked down at his polo ralph lauren boxers and felt himself get excited from all those thoughts about you. all those whimpers, you whispering: „fuck, joost, please don’t stop,“ into his ear as you’re getting close to your climax while he’s thrusting into you, his fingers circling your clit. it was driving him crazy. he reached down and palmed his growing erection. for a second, he contemplated jerking off right on the spot, but he needed a shower anyway – he might as well just get off in the shower. he groaned at the sensation of his hand slowly stroking himself through his underwear. „fuck, schat, i miss you so much,“ he thought and finally walked into the bathroom, where he removed his last piece of clothing.

he looked at himself in the mirror, his hands slowly roaming over his body, the skin feeling a bit sticky from all the sweat. he liked being gentle with himself like this, sometimes he would just wrap his arms around his body and feel the self-love. in the end, that is the most real love anyone can get in this world. he pinched his nipple and watched his dick twitch – yet again it surprised him how sensitive his nipples were. the thoughts of you kissing his chest, your hands caressing his soft tummy, your lips moving to his nipples and softy licking them, kissing them, gently biting them filled his mind. all this always made him arch his back and whimper your name, desperate pleas to wrap your hand around his hard cock already ready to escape his mouth. his hand continued down his happy trail, the movement was so slow, he was so pent up yet for some reason decided to tease himself like that. maybe because that was something you would always do? always using your fingertips and light touches to build up the tension and make the release even more powerful. „fucking hell,“ he let out a moan as he finally wrapped his hand around himself, stroking his cock a few times. it was so lewd, masturbating right in front of the mirror, watching himself get harder – „shit, what if there are cameras?“ an intrusive thought entered his brain, but he immediately shook his head to get rid of it. „okay, fuck, shower,“ he realised and finally entered the stall.

he set the shower head to rain and sighed at the sensation. it felt so good, warm water gently falling on his skin and he wished he could share the moment with you. you’d press your body on his, push one of your legs between his, and feel him slowly grind your thigh, his leaking tip touching your stomach with each thrust. then you’d get on your knees and look up while wrapping your lips around the tip, your right hand working on the rest of his cock while the other hand would massage his balls. he was sure he wouldn’t last for a long time, his hand would stroke himself so fast and then come all over your tongue and lips. he knew the taste wasn’t good at all, he was smoking too much, but you still swallowed because his reaction was so worth it plus it made the cleanup so much easier. all these thoughts were too much, he was slowly losing himself in all this. he leaned towards the wall and stroked himself. he looked down, his dick fully erect, he knew he was pretty big, and the size was especially noticeable when your dainty hands were jerking him off instead. he moaned loudly and picked up the pace, already feeling himself getting close to the edge, even though it had been only a few minutes.

his mind wandered again, this time he imagined pushing you against the shower wall, making you face it, slapping your ass, and positioning himself right at your entrance. he would tease you for a few seconds, to make both of you want it even more, then slowly push his dick inside you, letting you get used to his girth. it wouldn’t take long for him to start thrusting into you hard and fast – he loved taking his time, even being submissive and letting you take the lead, but sometimes, all he wanted was to fuck you senseless. he loved hearing your moans, calling out his name. yeah, fans screaming out: „joost klein!“ was great, but it was nothing compared to you moaning it when he was deep inside of you, his hands on your hips, moving them towards his body with each thrust, and his lips kissing you everywhere he could reach. it was such a dangerous game, fucking you raw with no birth control whatsoever, both of you not ready to bring a child into this world. he wished he could thrust into you deep and come inside, then watch his cum drip onto your pretty thighs. he’d always pull out and come on your body instead.

„fuck, baby,“ he moaned loudly, his hand moving so fast on his dick that he was scared he’d get a cramp. his head fell back, he shut his eyes tight, and the thought of feeling you coming on his cock and your muscles squeezing him set him over the edge. he felt his dick twitch in his hand, his movements slowed down until he stopped completely, just holding his cock, and watched the cum that had fallen on the shower floor mix with the water. some of it got on his hand, „ugh,“ he muttered under his breath because it would always turn into such a sticky mess when mixed with water. he washed it off, grabbed a bottle of shampoo, and squeezed some of it in his palm. he massaged his scalp and wished you were there with him and helped him finish the shower. the sex was great, but it was these intimate moments, you slowly massaging his body with a loofah and cleaning him up, that made him feel so loved. he finished off the shower, wrapping a towel around his hips, not even bothering to dry off his wet body. he had a better idea on his mind – he quickly entered the bedroom, wincing at the cold air against his skin, and grabbed his phone. he opened up instagram, quickly found your messages, and opened the camera. he took a selfie, making sure you could see his body was all wet and the towel was dangerously low, showing off his trimmed pubes, and added a short caption: „miss you, schatje, so much. i just came so good thinking about you, baby. :-* can’t wait to get back to you. i love you, liefje. <3“ he set the photo to one view only and hit send.

#joost klein x reader #joost klein x fem!reader #joost x you

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sincerelywhistler · 4 months

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Freelancer!

More headcanons (ft. Gavin) under the cut!

^ and a Pinterest board bc I have a problem

- Hux calls them Skipper

- Matching heart hip tattoos w/ my Gav design & dyed the tips of their hair pink to match as well teehee

- Can get pretty nasty academic burnout and bouts of executive dysfunction

- Boba shop employee

- A dancer! Has a tiktok where they post choreo clips to and throwing it down to whatever songs are trending

- Big softy. So!! Cuddly!! World cold and harsh, Freelancer’s arms so warm and safe

- Gay awakening was Danny Phantom

- Chronic “lol” user while texting, and it gets on Damien’s nerves because nothing is even “lol” worthy about making dinner plans so STOP ENDING YOUR SENTENCES WITH LOL WHATS SO FUNNY BRO

- Filipino 🇵🇭

- Spicy foods = best foods. If their organs aren’t melting from the inside out then what’s the point??

- Pokémon sweat tbh

- Dr. Pepper addict

- Coffee hater, but they’ll drink it anyway if they’re desperate enough. They call it “dirty bean water” which both confuses and delights Gavin immensely

- Gave Gav a pair of cat ear headphones for the holidays, but they lowkey like how they look on him a lil too much so… that’s a pandora’s box situation for another day

- So many stupid and silly bumper stickers on their car (“Please don’t watch me park, I have performance anxiety”, “I break for roly-pollies”, etc.)

- Their favorite book genre is fanfiction on AO3

- Thus, shamelessly, they get some of their best ideas of how to rock Gavin’s world from smut fics

- Calls Gavin “playboy” when they’re being suggestive ;)

- Half of their paycheck would go to DoorDash if they got their way

- Has that natural aura where everyone can’t really help but crush on them a bit

- Lets Gavin change out their dexcom <3

- Has a collection of fun tape and/or transmitter stickers for said dexcom

- California born and raised

- If there is a DAMN rowing crew, they’re on it. Was quite exceptional on their high school team

- Can surprisingly be an efficient morning person (unless there’s a pretty incubus curled up at their side, then you’re playing by Cat Rules. Can’t move until the cat does first)

- Scared of heights, you’ll never find their ass on an airplane

vibe check Miles and take a peek at their pin board

#this is my favorite listener design so far <3 #Whistler’s Listeners #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted fanart #redacted fandom #redacted art #redacted freelancer #redacted damn crew #redacted listener #listener characters #redacted headcanons #sincerelywhistler

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hanakoofthejungle · 5 months

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My most favourite Overlord Husk AU fanfictions

I am no expert in writing, just a regular fangirl whose brain is constantly occupied by HuskerDust. I like these fics purely based on the kicks I get out of reading reading them. HuskerDust fanfiction is my drug now :))))

All of this start commonly with Husk winning Angel's soul in a game against Valentino, the two eventually got involved romantically but ...

Blue Is Not Your Colour by Shienkha (competed)

It is rare to see Husk as deeply flawed, an addict to his poison (gambling) as much as Angel to sex. Both fell victims to their addiction, ultimately ruined their chance at happiness. In the end, Husk lost his soul to Alastor and Angel went back to Valentino. Husk realized only then that he loved Angel. The two finally reunited at the Hazbin Hotel, connecting the story to the canon.

“And a spade,” he whispered to himself as he headed out, slipping the ring to his chest pocket, “to symbolise how far I would have gone for you.”

As far as it would have taken to keep you happy.

Or, in the absence of it…

… as safe as one can be in Hell.

This is absolutely the best fic in my opinion.

2. Loved You Like Religion by cokedupdicksuckinghoe (completed)

This is as beautiful as the song after which the fic is titled.

Angel killed Valentino to save Husk. Husk was oblivious to his feeling until Angel seduced him with "Why Don't You Do Right". In the end, Husk prepared to throw everything away for Angel.

"He was devoted to Angel; he loved him like religion."

3. To A Player Everything Is A Game by Tat_Tat (completed)

A bundle of domestic bliss. This fic is my guilty pleasure. Whenever I came across a traumatic HuskerDust fic, I come back to this to save myself from the anxiety.

4. Call Your Bluff by @razzapplemagic

Angel relapsed and went back to Valentino after being 'rejected' by Husk. He later worked through his traumas, left Valentino on his own while befriending Vaggie during Extermination Day. As of the latest update, Angel came back to the casino and reconciled with Husk. The two began dating and Angel prepared to face Valentino once more.

5. Wicked Old Soul by BunnyBight (completed)

Husk put Angel in therapy with Charlie. Angel didn't appreciate Husk making decision for him and concealing his status as the Gambling Overlord. Angel was wooed by a charismatic lion who was hired by Vox to kidnap him. Husk came to the rescue. Angel and Husk, following their language roller coaster confession of love, signed a new contract which shared Husk's soul and all souls he owned with Angel. Angel became a new overlord with intriguing powers :))) The power couple now took on the Vees and played match making for Arackniss.

6. Someone You Can Bet On by Shigariope

Angel begged Husk to play a game with Valentino for his soul. Husk not only won Angel's soul, he also put a ring on his finger to safeguard his Overlord image. I look forward to see how their marriage of convenience progresses :)))

7. House of Cards by abookomaps

Valentino tortures Angel with angelic weapon. Husk proved Angel's worth by betting that Angel can make in one day what Valentino made in a month.

8. But you've got company by mamini2000 (completed)

Angel thought Husk was just an bartender then they fell in love.

9. Mine NOW Val by Rocher1893

Angel filled in for Husk's lounge singer. Husk devised a plan to help him get away from Valentino.

10. When the King Cat finds his Spider by Blahaj_Enjoyer

Husk demanded Angel's soul as collateral for his trade deal with Valentino. Valentino can film at Husk's casino, while he got Angel as new employee. It is precisely because Husk didn't technically own Angel's soul yet that I want to see how this story progresses.

11. Consequences by Bigredboi (completed)

To protect Angel, Husk killed Valentino and the Sin of Greed, becoming the new Sin.

12. First Breath by huskapologist

As of the latest update, Husk and Angel were plagued by nightmares and I by cliffhanger :))

13. Casino of love by @artwaterfall

A slow burn bliss following Angel's path to recovery from his pasts trauma and insecurity. If you are looking for Husk falling in love listening to Angel singing New side of me, this is the best description there is. If I didn't already have a significant other, I would have fallen in love with the spider myself just by reading that chapter, and I had the goosebump to prove it. This story is a treat that I look forward to every week.

14. I Can Only Blame Myself by InkPhoenix

Angel ran away from Valentino and collapsed before an extermination. He was saved by Husk and now had to deal with new disability and the possibility of being sent back to Valentino.

15. Sober to Death by BrainRotgoBrrrrr

Angel beat Husk at poker and he decided to buy him off Valentino. Alastor was eyeing Husk's soul.

16. Luck Be A Lady Tonight by Basic_Witch

Valentino used Angel to spy on Husk. Meanwhile, Husk taught Angel how to play cards and valued his business ideas.

17. The Gambler by @5carecr0w

Angel's appearance somehow brought luck to Husk's game with Alastor, saving him from losing his soul. Angel became his new lucky charm.

18. Him & His Libertine Principles by @thiccspices

Alastor enlisted Husk to make a bet against Valentino. Husk found Angel pathetic.

19. Cat’s Eye Casino by Lunatic_caramelle

Absolute bliss :)) As of the latest update, Husk was attacked by Val's men and injured. Angel took care of him while he healed and they grew closer.

20. Fates Gamble (two traumatized gay men rediscover love) by Chaosfrog

As of the latest update, the Vees had hidden cameras installed throughout the casino, giving Vox's control over machines and tables there. 'Whatever will befall my favourite couple?', I asked while waiting for updates every day :)))

21. High Stakes by dreamnplay (completed)

Husk wanted Angel to work the floor on a 10-hour shift per day. Angel thought he want him to f*ck customers for 10 hours a day. Read this and you will wonder when they will start communicate openly and honestly.

22. My Kingdom for The Soul of an Angel by meg_a_dork (completed)

Absolute domestic bliss with shopping, cooking, cuddling and everything. Angel proposed to Husk first :))) They got married and had cake 🍰

23. Ace of my Heart by Karmawillcollect (completed)

Angel beat Husk at poker and he bought him off Valentino. Guilty pleasure smut ensues :)))

24. My Atlantis by Satan_Has_A_Wife (completed)

Husk was bad at feeling, thinking Angel only loved him because he owned his soul and had been half-decent to him. Angel got Husk all hot and bothered seeing him with a gun. Cherri approved of Husk.

25. I Don’t Want The World But I’ll Take This City by highfemmeicequeen

Husk wanted a relationship to which Angel said 'no soul, no relationship'. Husk eventually tore off the contract and they began dating. Things were peaceful with Angel now running his own club until Alastor visited Husk's casino.

26. Love in Bonds by QueenofShadows1987

Husk and Angel dived head first into a relationship based on a 'standard' BDSM contract. Note that Husk is not the consent King we know and love here and Angel had no choice but to be his mate.

27. No Rest for the Wicked by @camelliea

It's been over 20 years since Angel was freed from Valentino yet the moth's shadow was still looming over his relationship with Husk. Husk made alliance with Alastor to destroy the Vees.

28. Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend by @purple-hyacynths

The two started of on hostile term. Angel was being a brat because of self-loathing.

29. House of Cards by Transparent_Existence (completed)

Angel and Husk are getting closer and one of Husk trusted employee can't have that.

30. High Rolling at the Grand Casino by Turntechgodliness (AmberzillaRex)

Angel became new lounge singer at Husk's casino.

31. Loaded Dice by Tat_Tat (completed)

Husk is a corrupted overlord using Angel to gain leverage against his father.

32. Facing Down the King of Cards by LevySutcliffe (completed)

Husk won Angel in a gamble with Vox and Val for Alastor's soul. Yes, Alastor made a deal with Husk and temporarily gave his soul to him and is now staff at the casino. Angel becomes Husk's fashion designer with workshop of his own. Husk is looking for the boy he fell in love with in life. Little do they know Angel is that boy.

33. Double or Nothing by HoneycombSweetness

Husk died during the battle against the exorcists and went back to the past where he was still an Overlord.

34. Call me when you want, call me when you need by Spades (bumblingbees)

Husk won a night with Angel instead of his soul and continues buying his service for months. He eventually fell in love with Angel but the latter wasn't convinced an Overlord could ever love a wh*re.

35. Lucky Bastard by @poppyfieldart

Angel flirted with the sweet bartender at Lucky Bastard without knowing he was the Casino Overlord. Husk found Angel more beautiful than the paintings on the ceiling of his casino's bathroom.

36. King of Spades by kurenohikari (completed)

The story focuses on Husk's rise to power. He eventually accepted Arackniss' request for his aid in saving Angle in exchange for his soul and loyalty.

37. Rock Bottom Overlord by @cloudwatcher-1

Husk fell to rock bottom, losing all of his casinos and was left with nothing but a dive bar. After winning Angel's soul, he was ready to make it up the top again.

38. Tail feathers, wings and webs by Glitchy_Micro99

Angel caught Husk's eyes at a club and he had to have this spider.

39. Heartstrings and Broken Wings by AngelDust88, Mercury_Rises (completed)

Husk's burst of jealousy resulted in dire consequence.

40. Too Sweet For Me by ItsMaryK

Husk freed Angel's soul because he didn't know what to do with it. Now he doubted whether it was a wise decision.

41. Cinderella by Aroadtotomorow

Angel won a business deal for Valentino in a game against Husk. Husk felt something for the first time in years following his defeat at the hand of the spider.

42. The House Edge by vixensheart

Angel found friendship in Husk and he dared to hope for something more.

43. Cashing In My Bad Luck by @froggierboy

Husk and Angel formed a fragile friendship amidst Hell's dangerous politics and Overlords' jealous fits.

The list is to be updated.

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #hazbin husk #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x husk #hazbin hotel husk #overlord husk

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ratlikeclown · 1 month

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WIP Wolverine x femReader 18+

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled,

“Ya lookin to find out Princess?”

x Deadpool kinda eventually lmfaoooo

FemY/n is mid 20’s - early 30’s

Tw for depression and like drug use mentions ig

🌶️🫵

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

Hello 👋 This is the first fanfic that I have written in over 10 years the brain rot is so unbelievably real for wolverine and deadpool rn

its a little embarrassing tbh lmfaoo

—————————

I’m not really sure how to tag this tbh. I’ve never posted on tumblr. . It’s a little spicy and will get more interesting later. I just wanted to toss this small part out for readers to test the waters. Anyway um I’m not experienced writing y/n pov so please be nice.

Your friend, Wade Wilson, couldn’t take no for an answer. You knew that and yet you still had the audacity to tell him ‘no’ three times tonight. And about thirty minutes after you ignored his last phone call there he was, practically knocking down your door. It wasn’t like he couldn’t actually kick in your door, he was just being polite.

The apartment buzzer went off. You sat up from your position on the couch, hoping he’d just give up and leave if you didn’t acknowledge him. Like a stray cat. Or a crackhead.

“Knock knock~” you heard his voice through the door. “I smell Hot Pockets and sadness I know you’re in there”

Gripping the arm of the sofa you waited hoping he’d have the common courtesy fuck off .You heard the door knob rattle. Dumbass.

With a click of the lock, your door swung open revealing Wade, grinning as he shoved his Baby Knife back into his coat.

“Wade, what the fuck? I told you-“

He clapped his hands loudly, interrupting you.

“Let’s go Funshine Bear, the nights young and I’m not going anywhere without you” Wade marched past you, straight to your bedroom humming to himself.

“You look awful by the way, we’ll fix you up though.” He clicked his tongue and crooked a finger in your direction. You huffed angrily, sliding off the couch to follow him.

You stopped in the doorway, almost refusing to step inside. He was elbows deep in your closet drawers, throwing clothes onto your bed, muttering his disapproval at every item he tossed.

You crossed your arms as you watched him.

“Do you have anything that doesn’t look like you took it from the Walmart dumpster?” He pulled a drawer out from the dresser and dumped it on the floor. “You know the one I’m talking about, right? Where all the coke addicted bronies go to have a bone sess before band practice.”

You crossed your arms as you watched him. “Wade, I’m not in the mood to go out.”

You heard him sigh, but continued to riffle through your things.

“That’s nonsense, the plot can’t continue with out you. Annnd we made these plans last week.”

He peeked at you from behind the open closet door. “I’m a little worried about you. You aren’t your chipper self lately”

“I’m just tired” You replied dismissively.

It wasn’t like Wade hasn’t been trying to cheer you up in his own way. For the last few weeks he’d text you obscure and quite frankly disturbing memes at 3 AM. Excitedly offer you drugs that he’s pilfered from the his blind roommate- (he knows you don’t do drugs, he just wanted to brag about stealing coke from Blind Al)

He’s also been sending you the strangest X-Men fan fiction. (His favorites were ‘old man yaoi’ including Professor Xavier and Magneto) Usually you eat that kind of stuff up, finding it funny that you knew some of the people that the fanfiction was written about, like a private joke between you and Deadpool. But worst thing he’s done has beencalling you almost every day and attempting to make plans with you, but you always seem to cancel last minute. So yeah, he has been trying. It just.. didn’t help.

Your eyes flickered to your wall of photos next to the closet door. Pictures of your closest friends and family. Their arms around you laughing, smiling. Pictures of trips and silly outings that meant the world to you. You felt so much guilt and regret looking at them.

Depression was a bitch. It was like a rabid dog that wouldn’t let you get back on your feet. You felt it gnawing at you, causing you to lose interest in everyone and everything. You felt alone. Your eyes fell back to Wade, you watched your friend hard at work trying to match your shoes with a dress he had found. He was clueless. You couldn’t tell him any of this though, it would just make him worry more.

There was someone you did want to talk to though. To tell everything to. Someone that you had grown so close to the last few months.

You missed Logan.

This realization caused your face to heat and anxiety weld up in your chest. You balled your hands into fits thinking about that arrogant jerk. You’ve tried to be a friend to Wolverine. After all this wasn’t his reality. He was your timeline’s replacement. (Idk you should go watch the movie. I’m not explaining it.) and for a while, you thought you were friends.

Lately, if he wasn’t drunk and depressingly moody, he was angry and a massive dick.

“Y/N? Look a little pink at the cheeks are you feeling OK?” Wade was now standing less than a foot from you, his brows furrowed. You hadn’t noticed him move.

Snapping back from your thoughts by Wades voice, you ran hands over your face as you turn towards the attached bathroom.

“Dude, I told you I’m just not feeling good-” You stepped into the bathroom and turned on the faucet “I don’t wanna hang out with-“

“Logan?”

“Your friends.” You finished. You felt your face flush deeper at his name being mentioned.

“That’s what I said” Wade followed you to the bathroom, but thankfully didn’t come in. He stood outside while you closed the door.

“Trust me honey, I know he’s the embodiment of a sentient happiness starved cactus whose father never loved him but-“

You groaned, trying to avoid Wades ramblings you turned the water on full blast, drowning out the remainder of his sentence. You splashed water on your face and ran a comb through your hair. You heard Wade continue talking, almost to himself while also sounding like he was talking to someone else in the room as well. Someone you couldn’t see. He did that often. It was creepy.

You swung the door open frowning.

“-sometimes he stabs me through the face to shut me up, but I know he does it because he’s not good with words.”

Wade smile faded when he saw your face.

“It’s kinda hot”

“I don’t want to talk about it Wade.” You sat down onto your bed with a huff despite the pile of clothes and plastic hangers. You stared at your hands. You felt the overwhelming weight of your anxiety in your chest and stomach. Maybe you should go out. Maybe he won’t show up tonight. Maybe-

“You look like you wanna talk about it Friendo.”

Wade joined you by dramatically pushing all the clothes off the bed, making an even bigger mess of your room. He flopped down onto your bed stomach first, propping himself up by his elbows. He kicked his feet and smiled at you.

“I’m all ears.”

“I don’t know how to start” You admitted.

“Start with an ‘I feel’ statement”

Another sigh escaped your mouth. How did you feel? It felt complicated. You met him a few months ago. At first he was rude and closed off. Then he slowly began to open up, sure you still bickered and fought like cats, but it had playful undertones. (‘Sexy undertones’ Wade had joked) When he was being genuine and open, it felt like you could talk to him for hours. Though he never spoke for too long, he would to listen to you earnestly. Up until a few weeks ago, that is.

“I feel like Logan hates me. I feel like he would rather huff paint thinner than have a decent conversation with me.”

Wade laughed. “Well that’s not true, I can’t get him to huff anything.”

You shot him a look.

“Listen, I invite Mr. Grumpy out every time. But he’s too busy sulking to get fucked up with us. He would rather get drunk and pass out in the floor of the apartment. He probably won’t even show up.” Wade gave you a reassuring look.

“If he does you’re gonna be there with me. We’ll leave if you feel uncomfortable at all.”

He rolled over and sat up, putting an arm around you.

“I’ve just noticed your mood lately I need you to know that I love you.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze. “-and I miss getting fucked up with you.”

“Will you stab him for me if he’s mean?”

“Of course. I always have Baby Knife on me.”

“Fine. Let me get ready”

He jumped off the bed excitedly.

You pushed Wade out the door to get dressed, pausing in the doorway. “Wade?”

“Yes Friendo?” He turned on his heel

“I love you too bud”

He squealed as you closed the door.

~~~

You never understood why Wade wouldn’t just buy a car. He makes decent money (he doesn’t) and could probably afford a nice one. (He couldn’t) At one point you recall him having a weird hyperfixation with the Honda Odyssey (he fucked Wolverine in one) (allegedly)

Instead, you were climbing into the back of a dirty beat up taxi cab that his friend, Dopinder, drove for a living. At least you didn’t have to walk. Dopinder was a sweet guy, if not a little unhinged every once in a while.

“You look quite beautiful tonight Miss Y/N” He complimented you as you settled in the back seat. You smiled at him, appreciating the comment. Wade had picked out your dress and you felt a little exposed and out of your element in it. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a slick black dress with a low neck line. The dress was short, ending a little above the knee. The problem was the slit up the side. You wanted to wear tights under the outfit but Wade insisted on fishnets. ‘You look like a goth baddie’ he had assured you, ‘Like a Hot Topic clearance rack version of Morticia Addams.’

Wade hopped in the front and immediately started to flip through the radio channels. Dopinder usually had on pleasant sounding Indian pop music but Wade settled on some heavily censored 90’s hip hop.

The drive was rocky. Wade, who almost never kept his hands to himself, would grab poor Dopinder while dancing along to the music causing the cab to swerve. A lot.

Having made it to the bar in one piece, you quickly scrambled out of the back, thanking the young man for the ride.

Wade waited for you at the door.

~~~

The bar was loud and dark. One of those typical bars you see in movies, filled with moving bodies and cigarette smoke. Music pumped through the speakers with some people lingering near the bar while others swayed on the dance floor. Wade bounced through the crowd pulling you along towards the bar, where his group of friends took up half the bar area. You scanned the crowd nervously. No Logan. Your muscles relaxed, and you moved with a little more energy.

Wade greeted his friends with various enthusiastic greetings and crude gestures. You smiled in greeting and waved at a friend you recognized but sat down on a stool next to where Wade stood, him blocking you from most of the other bar patrons. There was a part of you that was a little disappointed that Logan wasn’t here. It made sense if he didn’t show up here, this bar was honestly more like a club, upbeat and energetic. He’s used to dark depressing dive bars, places you can drink yourself into a coma and not be bothered. But the few times he had shown up here you had thought that he enjoyed your company, for a little while at least. During times when the others were off doing dubious shit somewhere, he’d sit with you at the bar. You even managed to get him to dance with you once. That all changed recently. Something happened that caused him to be distant and often rude for seemingly no reason.

Everyone seems to be so happy to see Wade and he, them. You didn’t really know why you were here. It already felt overwhelming. You used to love coming here. Drinking and dancing, playing pool badly and belting out shitty country music karaoke with everyone. Lately, things have felt different. You’ve lost interest in a lot of the things you use to enjoy, spending your days just working and rotting in your apartment. This was too much.

Wade touched your shoulder causing you to jump.

“Hey we’re off to play some darts you in?”

You smiled at your friend. “You really wouldn’t want me to play, you’d end up as the dart board.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Sweetheart” Wade laughed, “we’ll be over there if you change your mind.” He made a heart with his hands and turned toward the group already making their way to the play area.

You sat quietly at the counter with a glass of something sweet and strong. You wanted to feel a buzz but you needed it to taste good. Your eyes scanned the crowd, people watching. You watched people dance and sway to the newest Kesha song blaring through the speakers. You witnessed a near fight over a pool game. You heard Wade’s laughter from across the room, his friends echoing along. You felt alone. It was your fault you told yourself. If you wanted to feel better you would’ve gotten up and joined your friends. But here you sat, being miserable on purpose.

“Hey beautiful, mind if I joined you?” Your head snapped up meeting the face of someone you didn’t recognize. He was good looking, in a vanilla frat boy kinda way. With his backwards hat, sleeveless tank, skinny jeans and all.

But he smiled like a wolf.

“I’m sorry.” You tried to smile politely, but you had a twinge of anxiety growing in your chest. “I’m not really in the mood for company”

The man smiled motioning to the bartender for a drink. “Can’t I just buy you a drink? “

“Really, I’m fine” You turned back to your drink, your eyes unfocused, hoping that if you just ignored him he’d leave. Your gut flipped when you heard him pull out the stool next to you. He wasn’t leaving.

“Come on babe, I can show you a good time”

“She said she ain’t looking for company bub.” A low voice growled behind you. A beer bottle came down heavily in between you and the creep. Your eyes trailed the hairy but beautifully sculpted arm to its owner, though you already knew who it belonged to. Logan. Even in this lighting you could see his rugged face. His hair was styled in its iconic cat ear shape. His beard was trimmed nicely combined with his thick muttonchops. His eyes were a little hazy but beautiful and dark. You met those eyes for a brief moment, he smirked at you before his gaze flickered to the other man.

“Well?” He rumbled, barring his teeth.

“Naw, I was here first grandpa, you fuck off.” The frat guy stood up straight, trying to look intimidating.

“Trust me” Logan chuckled. He straightened cracking his knuckles before raising his fists and extending three razor sharp Adamantium claws from each hand.

“You don’t want none of this”

~~~

“You didn’t have to do that” you looked down at your glass avoiding Logan’s gaze. You heard him land heavily in the bar stool next to you. He tapped the counter signaling the bartender who was very clearly avoiding your side of the bar.

“I wasn’t going to have some limp dick creeping on you.”

“I was handling it”

“You didn’t seem like you were handling anything Princess.” He scoffed.

You shot him a look. He smirked as he chugged his remaining beer, you couldn’t help watch his throat bob as he drank. He finished and loudly set the bottle down. He met your eyes and you looked away feeling your face heat violently.

“You thirsty princess?” He asked as the bartender set down two shots of something before scurrying away. He slid one glass your way.

“No thank you. I have my own drink”

You pushed the glass back his way. He eyed your almost empty cocktail and shrugged.

“Suit yourself” he took the glasses and knocked back both shots simultaneously slamming the glasses back down. After a few moments of silence, where you clearly felt Logan eyeing you the entire time, you sighed.

“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight Logan.” You admitted. Another beer had appeared in front of him, he took a swig. He eyed you, his eyes slowly trailing from your face down your body. They rested at the slit in your dress, exposing most of your fishnet covered thigh. You felt a ping in your lower belly, causing you to cross your legs uncomfortably. His eyes followed to movement. He licked his lips and met your eyes again smirking.

“Why didja miss me?”

You looked down at the growing piles of shredded napkins you had been anxiously ripping apart.

“Yes” you said at last. There was no point in lying. You did miss him. Even seeing him now, clearly drinking away his problems, you couldn’t help but feel glad he was there with you. You were glad he scared away that creep, despite his now passive aggressive demeanor. You met his eyes again.

He snorted and tipped the beer to his lips.“You’re a fucking liar”

You felt your gut squeeze with anger. Why was he treating you this way? You didn’t ask him to step in to a play hero. You didn’t ask him for anything. You just wanted to get out of your shitty apartment for one goddamn night. You balled your fists and spun to face him fully.

“What. The. Fuck.” You clenched your teeth annunciating each word bitterly. “Is. YOUR PROBLEM”

“My PROBLEM,” he practically spat the word,

”is that I have to deal with your moody ass attracting the eye of every fucking creep in this place when you very fucking clearly don’t want to be here.”

You threw your hands up angrily and gestured around the bar.

“I didn’t want to deal with any of this Logan. I just wanted to go out with my FRIENDS, which I used to think you were one. I don’t fucking know what prick you had up your ass lately, but you sure as hell don’t act like you like me. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

He was silent for a moment, studying your face, making it turn even redder. Then he laughed. He shook his head laughing and sloppily chugged his second beer.

You had enough. You needed to get away from him. You shoved yourself back, tipping the stool over in the process.

“Come find me when you figure out what you want.” You turned to leave. You made it a few steps before you heard Logan’s voice call mockingly.

“Nice dress by the way”

You didn’t turn to look at him.

“Fuck you, Logan”

~~~

You ran your hands under cold water, leaning over the sink you splashed the water into your face and sighed. You looked into your mirrored face. This was a disaster.

Maybe if you just stayed in the bathroom you can avoid everyone until Wade was ready to leave. You felt bad that you ran off instead of finding him. You would’ve felt safe with Wade.

Your head was swimming, from the alcohol or the interaction with Logan you couldn’t tell.

The speaker above you crackled playing the opening notes to ‘Dirty Diana’, a favorite of yours. A banger Wade would say.

Without warning the door sung open and Logan stumbled in.

“You’re in the wrong bathroom you drunk asshole” you snapped. His eyes met yours from a brief moment before he swayed slightly and took a step forward.

He pushed past you wordlessly and began kicking open the bathroom stalls. They were all empty.

“Dude get out” You gripped the sink behind you, watching Logan warily. You knew deep down he wouldn’t hurt you but you obviously didn’t want him in here with you. He turned to you, taking a step forward.

”I needed to talk to you”

“Yeah, you could have waited til I got out of the ladies room??”

“No.” he growled before in one swift movement he was in front of you, his arms on either side of the sink trapping you between them. Your breath came out in a shudder and your knees wobbled. This honestly was a thing out of a fantasy, something that you were embarrassed to admit you’ve thought about. You had been fighting your feelings for this big stupid man, stuck between thoughts of friendship and lust. God, he wasn’t helping with the latter.

“Logan”

“I’m sorry” he said looking as remorseful as he could under the circumstances.

“What did you need to talk about that couldn’t wait Lo?” You swallowed, gently lifting your hand and placing it on his chest, pushing lightly. His hands moved to your legs keeping you from pushing him further.

“Ya told me to find you when I figured out what I wanted”

“Yeah” You scoffed. “Enlighten me”

~~~

“I want you”

Logan leaned over you, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His fingers dug in lightly, the movement making your legs feel like jelly. You gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. He was so firm and warm under your hands.

His face was inches from yours, his expression unreadable in the low lighting. You smelled the smoke and alcohol on his breath.

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled,

“Ya looking to find out princess?”

You felt a ping of desire sink into your lower belly as his hand moved from your waist.

Shivers went down your spine as his hands slid up your torso coming to a stop right below your breasts. One of his thumbs brushed upwards lightly, teasingly.

You sucked in a breath as he lowered his face to your neck and brushed a kiss to the sensitive skin. His facial hair tickling your jaw.

“Logan, you’re drunk.” You croaked out, pulling away slightly, your hands sliding from his shoulders. He moved with you.

You felt his lips brush your skin again, another kiss, before his thumb slid upward against your breast. Fuck. The wet heat between your legs was unbearable. You needed some sort of friction. You definitely noticed the pressure from his pants pressed against your stomach. So close, you just needed anything. You bucked your hips against his, almost involuntarily, causing a rumble to escape his throat. His thumb stroked again.

“That’s a good girl” His head bobbed lower dragging his tongue down as he kissed your neck. You could feel him smile as he sucked the skin of your collar bone in a way that would definitely leave a mark. Holy Hell. What was happening.

You were sick of your neck getting all the attention as you reached up to take his face in your hand. He practically melted at your touch, his breath hitching as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. You wanted him, needed his mouth on yours. You pulled his face up, a little roughly, to meet your gaze. You thought you heard him let out a little surprised chuckle from the movement. His eyes were half lidded as he met yours. He was drunk, and you realized, so were you. You leaned in, your lips feather light against his-

You jumped at Wade’s voice from the other side of the door, calling for you.

Shit. You dropped your hand away from his face.

Logan growled, low and angry. He abruptly took his hot hands from your body and leaned his head to your ear, you felt his lips against your skin.

“Some other time then, darlin’.” He pulled away from you swaying slightly, before grabbing his beer from the counter and yanking open the bathroom door.

~~~

Anyway, thanks for reading. I guess I don’t know if this is any good and I will be posting the rest on Ao3 eventually

#deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #reader x character #logan howlett #wade wilson

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achaotichuman · 2 months

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Recently I delved into the depths of my docs to find the first fanfiction I wrote for ACOTAR that never saw the light of day.

Obviously it's horrible writing, but I like the premise and since I am addicted to piling more projects on top of my scheldule I rewrote the first chapter and redid the plot for it.

Originally these events take place a year or two after the war with Hybern, and everything is the exact same EXCEPT for somethin Tamlin is doing.

I changed it so that this is a fic of what would have happened if Tamlin didn't give over that drop of power to bring Rhysand back.

Anyway, here's there rewritten chapter. Tell me if you guys like it!

“Be happy Feyre.”

The words nearly tumbled out of his mouth. The carefully loving words that wrapped like ivy around his throat, choking him, those last cords of love that had twisted into something else. That had made him soft for her. He had offered his heart like ripe fruit on a silver platter for her to take and now look at where he stood.

Bloodied, gore and guts clinging to his armour like a second layer of skin, mud caked on his legs and arms. Hair a mess, dirty and disgusting. His people, his armies, whom he had gone to his knees to earn the trust of them back, after she twisted their minds, undid their memories, stared in every personal thought to create a new story for all of them. One that fit her narrative.

The damage she had caused, the things she had taken. What she had done, what she had cost not just them but all of Pryhtian. Destroying the Courts she had saved not even a year ago.

Now, on her knees, holding the man who had assaulted her night after night after night whilst she vomited, cried and danced and laughed, and been drugged. She screamed his name whilst she cling to his lifeless form.

The good for nothing bastard Lord was finally dead. Tamlin should have breathed a sigh of relief.

Instead every High Lord stood around awkwardly, as one after the other they had willingly handed over their magic despite what this man had done to them. Despite how much they all hated him. They did it for his grief-stricken mate who screamed for them to help. To bring him back the same way she had come back.

But he was dead for what he had done. Giving over power to remake the Cauldron, the mother had taken his very soul with the magic, the price paid to put the world back together.

Truly, who were they to defy her?

Tamlin stood up straight, when Feyre stared up at him, eyes filled with tears as she saw his stone-cold face.

“Please,” She screamed, “Please I’ll do anything!”

Green eyes cut from her to the other Lords. None made eye-contact with him. All looking elsewhere, anywhere, the grey-red clouds above, the torn battlefield layered with bodies on decaying bodies, the rivers running red with blood. Some of them, no doubt reminded of Amarantha’s reign of terror by the bloodshed, looked to the muddy ground.

But none dared look in his eye, all knew what she had done to him. Her reasons for doing so. They also all knew what he had done to her.

But staring down at her now, thinking back on all of it.

Thinking back on the slander of Court, the destruction of his people. The lying, the scheming, the pure hatred.

Then there was one final thought that struck true.

What would they have all done if it had been him dead on the floor and not Rhysand?

The image of his bloodied mother, his dead brothers, even as cruel as they were, flashed before his eyes.

“No.” He said. Standing tall and true, “I will not hand over my magic.”

“You fucking monster!” A girl with gold streaked blonde hair lunged at him from out of nowhere. Morrigan.

She didn’t get far, from where she was knees deep in the mud. A flash of gold and a short-sudden scream from her. She was pinned to the floor with golden threads. Not painful, but certainly startling, and no doubt humiliating.

Tamlin couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Feyre stared up at him. Her wet blue eyes boring into his own with a deep-cut grief that would have broken him just a few weeks ago.

Now.

Now all he felt was mild pity, and a distant sadness, for the girl who had been killed under the mountain and never brought back.

“Who's to say the real Rhysand would even return?” Tamlin said, voice mockingly kind, “When the first time we brought a human back, she was not the same at all?”

Feyre’s saddened eyes turned wrathful, her beautiful face twisting into a deadly scowl. All that hatred, focused solely on him.

“You were what led me to my death! And now you refuse to even help him!” She screamed, the pain and grief tearing through her, along with the emptiness of where her mating bond used to be no doubt fueling her rage.

“You led yourself to your death as did he.” Tamlin said, perfectly calm and stoic. She wouldn’t get a rise out of him. Not anymore.

Tamlin looked to the others, “Think about all that male has done to us. Think of what his mate has brought down upon our lands. And maybe rethink tossing your magic carelessly at whatever dead corpse lays before you.”

“He is not a corpse!” Feyre shrieked. Her cries and screams becoming distant. Vague. As weariness bore heavy on him. For the mortal, the living, unfortunately exhaustion was a natural occurrence.

Tamlin’s eyes went down to Rhysand. Least he’ll never be exhausted again.

The thought was cruel, and maybe he was a horrible man for feeling relief. Staring into that lifeless face, knowing he was dead forever. Gone. Bound to never bring him misfortune again.

“You are a heartless male.” A seething voice said somewhere near him. Tamlin looked towards where a limping Illyrian with blue siphons hissed, looking like he wanted to tear the High Lord to shreds but his own limitations and injuries prevented it.

A cold, humourless smile broke out on his face. The Spring Lord looked down upon Feyre.

“Give him your own magic.” He said, tilting his head, “Why don’t you hand over those drops of power you claim to make yourself so, so powerful?”

She was silent, as tears continued to stream down her face, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Oh right, you can’t.”

He would leave after this and never see her face again, he hoped, but he didn’t bite his tongue to prevent the final blow, “Our magic is the only thing holding you together. You claim yourself so powerful. Above the rest of us entirely. The self-proclaimed High Lady of the Night Court, equal to the most powerful in all the Earth. But you really aren’t. You need our magic to survive.”

Tamlin looked back at Rhysand, and didn’t hide the relief on his face, “You can’t bring him back without us.”

The Nightmare was gone. Now all that was left was the cleanup.

Feyre screamed, whether it was an insult, her hatred or simply incoherent, he didn’t know. He winnowed away. Back to Spring.

It was time for a cleanup.

And he had plans to make things right in his Court. In Prythian in its entirety.

***

I probably will not continue this fic since I have so much I need to write already, but I think its fun to go back and reflect on my old ideas and rewrite to compare to how my form was before and how it is now.

#acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #anti rhysand #anti ic #pro spring court #critical feyre archeron #acotar au #acotar headcanons #fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #fanfiction writer

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lythevoidwitch · 4 months

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I am a simple woman.

If I see SVSSS content, I will like, I will follow, and I will open another tab to read every fanfiction recommendation. (Even though I shouldn't with my 64 open tabs right now. 27 of which are ongoing ff as I patiently wait for more chapters to be released.)

That's not all though.

I'm considering getting back into writing some fanfiction for my current addiction. I have a few ideas, but I would love to hear your favorite ship, crackship, headcanons and so forth!

I'm heavily debating on a few fic ideas:

SY and SJ shenanigans : Disciples? Estranged Siblings? (LBH Sobbing in the bg)

SY as a rogue cultivator, successfully avoiding LBH for most of the plot. (Switch between LBH and SY pov?)

Modern SVSSS, College!! (SJ the prettiest and pettiest of college professors, he doesn't get paid enough for this. Why is his student flirting with him? Why is his student flirting with his brother? SJ might consider homicide as justifiable.)

Modern SVSSS, SY and SQH wake up from their strange dream. Find out Cucumber and Airplane know each other in rl. Ensue chaotic best friend behavior. (In the bg cue, MBJ and LBH handling this with nothing but poise and grace. I'm lying. They're doing the exact opposite. Don't worry, I'm not a monster. LBH and MBJ find their wives, eventually, probably.)

Modern Cultivators! SY and SJ didn't think they would ever run into an actual demon, demons are rare these days. They often face ghosts and spirits. Cue SY accidently waking up a good old Blackened/Sealed Lou Bing-ge. Cue (dun dun duhhh) chaos.

Demon SY? Cultivator SY? Dunno yet, SY in the Abyss. (I read an unfinished fic about SY in the abyss, and I'm obsessed with the idea of SY just absolutely trying to get LBG to speedrun the Abyss, and LBG deciding "Nuh. I'm staying here, with you". I was also considering entire Abyss ancient civilizations because I'm unhinged, and the idea of what used to be sprawling demonic kingdoms in the abyss is beautiful.)

Have you ever accidently married the emperor of the 3 realms? SY did. Now, SJ has to ask YQ for help to save his brother. (Subsequently: You ever accidently end up with a husband? LBG was surprised, too, but he has a system, a way these things work. Just because SY is a man doesn't change anything. LBH now has to make sure his frail husband doesn't die and doesn't get kidnapped by pesky cultivators.) Three povs???? SJ (trying to save his brother and getting pettier by the minute), LBG (thwarting SJ's plans, spying on his husband, general court affiar), SY (fangirling over everything, getting himself into trouble, falling into every wife plot under the sun).

These are just some ideas, some of my favorites that I've been clinging to. Free game, take em, write em if you want. The more fanfiction and content we have, the better!

I've rambled. Oh god. Lemme know your favorite, I'll probably boost it to the front of my list.

#mxtx svsss #svsss #help i have an addiction to fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #lou binghe #crack fic #rambles #help i have no idea what i'm doing #back into the void i go

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itsyagurlchip · 6 months

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the thread

the link

please be safe out there my lovelies. share this to anyone you know, please. im a minor, and i wouldn't have figured out half as many things i know if i didn't have the internet.

i wouldn't know much about self care.

i wouldn't know much about mental health

i wouldn't know about the importance of self love

i wouldn't know about gaza

i wouldn't know where i would call for a suicide line

i wouldn't know who i am, and how comfortable i am with my gender and sexuality

i wouldn't know those dumb facts that people love to hear me think about.

i wouldn't know about fanfiction

i wouldn't know how important it is to keep a fandom growing.

i wouldn't know a healthy way of expressing myself rather than bursting in anger and crying myself to sleep.

i wouldn't have the same mind set if i never had the internet to begin with.

I would be taken more advantage of, moreso for my age and my past tolerance for things.

I would assume horrible things and believe anything that anyone would tell me

I would be so depressed, being on my own as an online student.

Id hate the world for the situations id put myself in.

id probably resort to addiction, or self harm.

or even worse, suicide.

This place is so important to me. You guys are so important to me. So instead of just saying no, lets tell them why! lets tell them the effects this may have on teenagers like me! lets give them an alternative for a better Internet!!

(btw if that didn't didnt move u or smt, the bill is unconstitutional. it violates our right of free speech,. especially if the government doesn't like it. imagine a site vouching for fair practices, and being erased and blocked simply because the government wants to. imagine your safe place being blocked just because it was deemed "inappropriate for minors", even when determining the things that are appropriate for certain people is a whole spectrum in itself. and guess what, that's for the parents to decide!! not the damn government. if not for me, or yourself, then do it to spite the gov! anarchy bitch!!)

@/anyone you want to know!!, please!!!

@radicallxser @actuallyacerrr @amorvincitomnia-14 @acutiewithagun @aggressiveanon @tmnt-shitposting @thealphagirl @oleander-nin @spongejuice @shittyutmv @saltydoesstuff @fluffyr0cky @finleyforevermore @f1oricide @kittykittyanon @lykaios2 @lexiechr @ziipzeepzop-eez @mingthegod @aimasup

if you couldn't tell, these are the people i follow. these are some of the people who helped me see a better life. these are the people who i look up to, who i admire, and love with will my heart despite not seeing each other face to face.

I have about 80 followers.

These are the people who found me and decided to give me a follow. even if they dont look at my works, or are even to scared to interact with me, they still follow me because i impacted them in some way.

i would like to tell you all thank you, and your welcome.

❤️❤️❤️

#yagurlchip❤️#yagurl rambles #yagurl rants #yagurl vents #stop kosa #bad internet bills #kids online safety act #kids online safety bill #stop kids online safety act #kosa bill #find and alt!!#the internet is wild #but its a safe space for many people #and if you take that away #who knows what will happen?

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jtargaryen18 · 1 year

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His Inheritance: Chapter 29

Part 29: There for the Taking

Series Masterlist

Words: 7.8k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mob crime families, strong language, physical violence, character death. (No this isn't a carryover from Chapter 28) This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

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

Steve had just wrapped up his meeting with Murdock when someone knocked at his study door.

“Thank you, Matt,” Steve told him. “My driver will take you wherever you want to go.”

Murdock finished stowing his items away in his briefcase, rising from the chair with the help of his walking stick. His new consigliere paused.

“Thank you,” Matt said. “Good luck on everything.”

His lawyer opened the door to let himself out, Luca allowed him to pass before peering in. And Steve could tell from the look on the cook’s face that something was off.

“Boss, we have a situation,” Luca said. “I’ll see Murdock out first.”

“Thank you,” Steve muttered.

Steve stayed in his chair, tired. He had only spent one night away from his wife, and he hadn’t slept. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the hurt on her face when he told her they’d continue their marriage when her birth control shot was no longer in effect.

It had been a shitty way to handle the situation and he knew that. He let anger conquer his head. He tried to justify it to himself with the idea that isolating her in their bedroom would keep her safe. At least until their plans with the families were complete. Once that was done, it would be him trying to earn her forgiveness. Trying to earn his way back into his own bed.

The sooner they could deal with Barnes and the other families, the sooner he could mend things with her.

For fuck’s sake, they had to. Steve shook his head.

Women had been an addiction of his to this point in his life. A love-hate relationship. Steve loved the beauty of women, their softness, their smiles. He loved them dressed up so he could show them off, one conquest after another. Sex was his fix, the best way to get high and out from under all the things that plagued him in day-to-day life. Steve was always up for it. Any time of the day, anywhere.

Like any addiction, like alcohol or drugs, there was a dark side. The women were a problem with their needs for validation and ownership. If they tried to hold onto him, he walked. If they tried to manipulate him, he ran. And considering who he was, there wasn’t a damn thing any of them could do about it.

When he decided to marry, his wife had everything he could have hoped for in his position. Young and naïve, sheltered. She had an innocent beauty, ballerina delicate. And for his dark world, she had a bonafide motherfucking pedigree. Steve would be the envy of every man, not just for his position but for his beautiful young bride, the daughter of the man who led before him. And behind closed doors, he’d teach her to please him…

How had it come to this?

A man could learn to live without alcohol, without a drug. It wasn’t easy but it could be done. His wife was neither of those things. Living without her now was like trying to live without air or water. It scared him and that fear pricked at his anger, made him lash out at her.

The fact that he couldn’t control her, couldn’t even contain her, made him want her even more.

Luca’s heavy tread let Steve know he’d returned, closing the door behind him. The edge of desperation on his man’s face brought his focus back to the present.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, watching Luca drop heavily into the chair his lawyer just occupied.

“Look, Nat got a call from Clint,” Luca said slowly. “Said we’ve been ratted out.”

Steve knew he wouldn’t like what Luca had to say but he didn’t think it would be that bad. “What?”

“Clint called Nat and told her we been ratted out,” Luca said again. “Told her to get your wife and go to the sewing room. They’re both up there.”

Steve’s mind spun. He checked his phone and saw he had nothing from Clint.

“He hasn’t tried to call me,” Steve said.

“Nat said things didn’t sound so good on his end. We don’t have a location on him.”

It wasn’t going well at all for Clint to go so far as to ask Nat to go to the hiding place his father set up years ago and take his wife with her.

Steve had always hated being hidden in there with his mother and sister. He felt small, helpless. The last time he’d been fourteen years old. Once they got past the feds, Steve had complained to his father about being put there. He’d loudly told his father he could have helped. His father had given him a solid beating for that outburst. His father had taken his pride down a peg or two that day.

Now that he was older, he understood why his father had placed them there when the situation called for it. His father had come from a place where he wanted to protect what was most valuable to him.

They didn’t know where Clint was. They supposedly had a rat. And his sister and his wife were in the sewing room. Nat would stay there just like Clint wanted her to.

His wife? Steve just knew she would hate it. He knew she’d be bristling before long just like he used to. Probably for the same reasons.

“Think Barnes got to Clint?” Steve asked.

“Nah,” Luca replied. “he’d let them kill him before he’d bring Nat into things in any way.”

That rang true.

“But he said Barnes knows everything now. That we’re all in danger,” Luca went on. “He didn’t say who.”

“He wouldn’t tell Nat,” Steve said, trying to wrap his mind around this turn of events. “It protects her… Where’s everyone else?”

“We’ve been trying to reach Dyson but he ain’t answering any of us,” Luca explained.

“Even my wife?” Steve had to ask.

“You have her phone,” Luca pointed out. “He ain’t answering Nat’s phone.”

That wasn’t a good sign.

“Scott’s fine. He’s on his way here.”

His cook left someone out. “Neal?”

“I don’t know,” Luca told him, his expression grim.

“You think Neal is our rat?” Steve asked.

“Your wife does,” Luca told him.

The tap at the door stopped their conversation. Luca rose and went to the door, opening it to find Scott. Steve motioned him in, Luca closing the door.

“Scott, I have a question for you,” Steve said as his men took seats across from him. “What happened that day when I brought my sister home? Specifically, what happened between Banner and my wife?”

Scott blew out an exhale, nodding. He explained that he caught Mrs. Rogers before she went down to confront the angry lawyer and tried to send her back to her room, to let him handle it. When Scott explained that she wouldn’t agree to that, Steve nodded. It was what he expected.

“I told her to stay behind me,” Scott told them. “But she really didn’t do that either. Banner came in yelling about you taking his wife. He blamed you. He blamed Mrs. Rogers. He turned a scary shade of red. Right before you came in, he reared back like…”

“Like?” Steve asked.

“Like he was going to hit her,” Scott finished. “Like he was going to hit Mrs. Rogers. I pulled her back, but it wouldn’t have been enough. Belova came out of nowhere and blocked him, got him under control.”

Scott’s story matched his wife’s so far. Steve felt his anger rise.

“And Neal? What was he doing?” Steve wanted to know.

So did Luca, he was staring Scott down hard.

Scott shook his head. “He didn’t try to protect her, boss.”

Scrubbing a hand over his beard, Steve looked at Luca. ‘What are your thoughts?”

“Dyson beat the bejesus out of him right here in this office,” Luca said.

“Because he threatened Belova,” Steve reminded him.

“You ever known Dyson to beat the shit out of someone as a warning?” Luca said. “I’ve known Dyson a long time. I’ve seen him warn people lots of times. But not like that. He has a problem with Neal just like your wife and Belova has a problem with him. If they think he’s the rat, yeah, so do I.”

“Scott?” Steve asked.

Scott nodded. “Neal doesn’t talk to me. I just know I didn’t like how he acted that day with Mrs. Rogers. I don’t like how he treats Yelena either. I could never tell if it was because he didn’t like her or he didn’t like her because of her loyalty to your wife.”

Neal had been a loyal soldier to Steve, someone he trusted. Neal had even saved his life. How could it be that everyone else in his house didn’t trust him? How?

Jesus.

“If Clint is right and we’ve been ratted out,” Steve told them, “We have to call everything off. If Neal is our rat, Barnes and whoever is working with him knows exactly what we’re planning. Fuck.”

Rising from his chair, Steve began pacing. “Dyson is supposed to be going with Neal to deal with Hansen. I thought by sending them together, they could mend fences. Bond over taking care of shit. And it would prove Neal isn’t a liability. Now… hell, Neal might kill Dyson himself for that beating. If he hasn’t already. We have to find Dyson, now.”

“Unless we have reason to believe otherwise, we have to assume Dyson will meet Neal as planned,” Luca said. “And that’s not long from now. We need to be there before Neal is.”

“Luca, I need you to dial back orders. If Barnes knows any of this, our people are walking into a trap. I need you to talk to everyone. Personally. Call it off.”

“You got it, boss,” Luca said.

“Luca, I want a small goddamn army around this house,” Steve instructed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Luca said.

“See if anyone knows anything about Clint,” Steve went on. “I want a status on him ASAP. Scott help Luca.”

Both men nodded.

“Otherwise, my sister will lose her fucking mind.” Steve thought of her in the sewing room with his wife.

Luca and Scott left his study to do his bidding. Steve went to the bar behind his desk, poured himself a scotch. He needed it for what was coming next. Pulling open his desk drawer, he fished out his wife’s phone.

Once he finished his drink, Steve headed up the stairs, passing his bedroom. When he reached the linen closet, the façade that hid the sewing room, he took a deep breath. Quietly as he could, he opened the door, pushed the button that opened the door to the hidden room within.

Nat was huddled on the bench looking miserable, physically and emotionally. Her green eyes filled with tears when she rushed to him. Steve caught his sister in his arms, hugging her tightly. She was cold, shaking.

His wife? She sat on the floor under the window, eyeing him warily.

One thing his wife wasn’t? Afraid. No, she wasn’t showing any fear.

Easing his sister back onto the bench, Steve smoothed a hand over her red hair. “Nat, I’m going to have Luca bring some blankets and a space heater up here with your dinner, okay? You’re freezing.”

Nat wasn’t letting him go. “Is Clint on his way home?”

Steve met her gaze squarely. “We’ll find him. I promise.”

Nat didn’t look convinced, but she sat back down on the bench, her hands wringing. Steve walked over to his wife, held out his hand. She took it, allowing him to help her off the floor.

“I’m going to talk to my wife for just a moment out here, okay?” Steve asked carefully.

Nat nodded. His wife followed him through the linen closet and out into the hall.

“We need to talk,” Steve said slowly, trying to keep his tone even.

“I’d like to help you, Steve,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “But we don’t resume our marriage until 29 days from now, so…”

“I know, I know,” he said. “Everything’s so fucked right now between me and you. And we will deal with that.”

“Yes, we will,” she said, way too calm standing before him.

“But right now, we have to deal with the threat to this family,” Steve told her as he would one of his men. “Were you with Nat when Clint called?”

She frowned. “No, I was locked in my room.”

“Nat came and got you,” he said. “What exactly did she tell you about that phone call?”

Surprise flashed across her beautiful face for just a second. “She said that Clint told her we had been ratted out. That Barnes knew everything and that placed us all in danger. He told her to come get me and to bring me to this room as soon as she got off the phone. And she did just that.”

“He didn’t tell her anything else?” Steve asked.

She shook her head. “I wanted to see if she had left anything out or could tell me if she heard anything in the background. She’s too upset about the fact that he’s in danger. She’s barely holding herself together right now… Have you heard from Clint? Or Dyson?”

“No,” he said simply. “Luca’s doing his damnedest to find anything on either of them.” Speaking of Luca… “You have Nat’s phone. That’s how you got Luca.”

“Yes,” she told him. “It was obvious you hadn’t heard from Clint if you were still meeting with your lawyer.”

“You didn’t call me,” he had to say it.

Her chin tipped up in challenge. “If I had known what to expect from you, I would have.”

Steve earned that. “Is there anything else you know, Sweetheart? Anything at all?”

Oh, she did. He knew that look.

“What?” he asked.

“It involves Yelena,” she said, holding his gaze.

“This is not the time to bargain with me—”

“Oh, I’m not bargaining for anything,” she informed him, anger hardening her expression. “Yelena will be back where she belongs when this is over. She’s loyal to me and it was out of that loyalty that she told Clint where he could find Banner.”

“Excuse me?” Banner was supposed to be gone. Long gone, off to the west coast.

“He was still here,” she told him. “On Stark’s turf. He needed to be dealt with and Clint deserved a go at him.”

The way his wife spoke, the fire in her eyes. It mirrored the anger he was struggling to keep down right now.

“Think about it,” she said. “Yelena gave him that information. Then he calls Nat, tells her we’ve been ratted out and Barnes knows everything. We’re all in danger.”

Steve stared her down. “You think Banner is the rat?”

She shook her head. “Banner’s involved, but he’s not the rat. He didn’t know what you had planned for tonight. And he had no access to that information unless it was from the rat who did. But he was still here. Banner was hoping for something, and it wasn’t Nat.”

She had a point. Banner had sworn to Steve he’d be gone.

“You think Stark is involved?” Steve pressed.

“No,” she said. “I don’t really know him. But from the impression I got, he wouldn’t be that stupid.”

It was his thought exactly about Tony Stark. Jesus. Who was this woman he married?

“Barnes?” She shrugged. “Well, that remains to be seen.”

“You’ve talked to Belova,” he said.

“And she is on her way to the location she gave Clint,” she explained.

“Alone?”

“No, she’s with friends,” his wife explained.

“What friends?”

“All I know is that they are friends of Dyson,” she said. “And if he trusts them, and she trusts them, then so do I.”

Not a hint of doubt or hesitation. His wife stood toe to toe with him, talking about the dangers of his world with authority.

“But we have no idea where Dyson is.” Now her expression softened. The smallest trace of fear in her eyes. “I tried to call him from Nat’s phone, Luca called. There’s no answer. He’s supposed to be going with Neal to deal with Hansen. Steve, we have to find him.”

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Steve nodded. “We do. We really do… Dyson didn’t take it well that I pushed Belova out.”

“I’ll bet he didn’t,” she said bitterly.

“You got in his head about Neal,” Steve told her. “Neal said something about Belova Dyson really didn’t like. He beat the shit out of him last night, right there in my office.”

Steve saw the flash of excitement in her eyes at that. Just as quickly, it diminished.

“Jesus, Steve. Dyson’s walking into a trap between Hansen and Neal.” His wife shook her head, her teeth tugging at her lower lip nervously. “He’s dead if we don’t do something.”

Steve knew she could be right. If Neal was who she thought he was.

“You really think Neal is the rat here?” he asked.

“I know he is, Steve.”

It was then he realized something. The conviction, the certainty in her voice? It was all too familiar.

It all very much reminded him of her father. Every bit of it. And her father had been a hell of a leader in his time. He would never have found himself in the shit situation Steve let himself fall into.

Could he put aside who he thought Neal was? Did he have a choice?

Pulling her phone out of the pocket of his slacks, he handed it to her. “Try to call Dyson. One last try before I start making hard decisions.”

She took the phone without hesitation, hitting Dyson’s number with haste and putting the speaker on so he could hear. It only rang once before someone answered.

“Hi there, Princess,” Hansen drawled.

Fucking Hansen?

Steve tried to grab the phone, but his wife pulled it away, putting a finger to her lips. A signal for him to be quiet.

How was he supposed to be quiet when the slimy bastard had his mentor?

Why was the fucker calling his wife ‘Princess?’

“Are you there?” Hansen taunted.

“I’m here,” his wife said finally, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing to say?”

“Why are you answering Dyson’s phone?” she demanded.

“Dyson’s a little occupied at the moment,” Hansen went on in.

“He’s alive?” she asked.

“For now.”

“Is Neal with you?”

Hansen laughed at that. It was the moment Steve realized his wife was right.

“They’re working through a few things,” Hansen said casually. “It’s going well.”

“I want to speak Dyson,” she told him. “Now.”

“Think I’m lying to you, Princess?”

“Now, Hansen,” she said with more force.

Hansen’s sigh was loud and there was the sound of movement. Another voice mumbled in the background, Steve thought it was Neal. Then they heard Hansen say, “she wants to talk to you.”

“Hey,” Dyson said, sounding out of breath.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Dyson said slowly. “Don’t you worry yourself about me.”

“You know better than that,” she said. “But I need you to come home.”

There was a loud crash and the sound of Dyson’s yell. His wife gazed up at him wide-eyed. Now she was afraid. Steve wanted to grab the phone, but it was better for Hansen to think she was alone.

“You want Dyson back home?” Hansen’s tone was a little impatient. “Let’s talk.”

Her eyes were still on her husband. Steve nodded.

“Okay.”

“I’ll give him back to you, but I want something in return,�� Hansen said.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“You know what I want,” Hansen told her. “You.”

The thought that the ruthless bastard wanted his wife so badly had Steve choking on his fury.

She snorted. “And what do you think is going to happen? You’re going to show up with Dyson and Steve will make a trade?”

“Steve’s running out of time,” Hansen told her. “If he was the man you deserve, I wouldn’t have his top lieutenant, would I? I wouldn’t be so easily able to reach his wife. Steve can’t hold his own family together, much less lead the other families. When he falls, have you thought about what that means for you?”

It was all Steve could do not to start ranting at the arrogant fucker. Especially as he watched worry creep into his wife’s expression.

“How would it happen?” she asked.

“No!” Dyson yelled in the background. “Don’t you even think about—”

A sharp crack cut off the rest of what Dyson was about to say.

“Please don’t hurt him,” his wife whispered.

“You can stop it,” Hansen told her.

She looked to Steve, big eyes filled with so much emotion.

In his head, Steve narrowed down his choices. The fact that Hansen had Dyson, cut down his options. Neal was with them, confirming his wife’s suspicions. Neal would have told them all their plans. Fuck. Neal knew lots of things about Steve, how he ran the family.

If something happened to Dyson, and he had to admit at the moment that it was a very real possibility, the family would survive it. They already appeared to be struggling and that was Barnes’ intention, he knew. Losing Dyson would make them look even weaker. Blood in the water to put doubt in the minds of Odinson, Stark, and Wilson.

If something happened to Dyson, his wife might not survive. Especially with Hansen making her believe she could personally save the only father she really had. Hansen’s cruelty forced his hand. If Steve denied her now, he’d lose her.

With a fear shooting through his heart he’d never known, he nodded. His wife’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How will it happen?” she asked Hansen again, not missing a beat.

Hansen muttered his instructions in his wife’s ear. Steve didn’t catch most of it, gripped by the seriousness of the situation. Hating that he had no other choice. Hating the risk that he could lose both his wife and Dyson.

“I’ll see you soon, Princess” was all Hansen said when he ended the call.

And just like that, leading the families wasn’t the most important thing to Steve. Leading his family, having everyone’s respect didn’t matter. Not nearly as much as the man they held hostage or the woman he loved, watching him with the phone clutched in her trembling hands.

“Steve, what are we going to do?” she asked, sounding as scared as she looked.

Wrapping his arms around his wife, Steve pulled her close. She trembled in his hold, and he knew she was afraid, but she was brave. Steve was proud of her for that.

“He said I needed to be there, at his house, within the hour,” she told him. “Or they’ll kill Dyson.”

“I know,” he said low by her ear. “So we need to move fast.”

Moving past her, Steve went to the sewing room, leaning down to kiss his sister’s forehead. “I’m taking my wife with me,” he said. “Stay here and stay hidden even though I’m going to do my best to keep the fighting away from here.”

Nodding, she said, “Be careful.”

“We will,” he told her. “Luca will still be here if you need him.”

His wife hugged her quickly. “We’ll be home soon. With Clint.”

Steve just hoped his wife was right.

***

Your heart raced as Luca and Scott arrived at Steve’s office, closing the door behind them. Both of them looked startled to see you.

“What’s up boss?” Luca was still staring at you. “I’ve got the men setting up around the house.”

“We’ve had a complication,” Steve told them. “It’s Dyson. Hansen has him.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open. Luca scowled at Steve. “How the fuck did that happen?”

“With Neal’s help,” Steve said calmly. Glancing back at you, he blew out an exhale. “My wife was right.”

You couldn’t even enjoy being right. Not with someone you loved in danger.

Leaning against his desk with his heavy arms across his chest, Steve looked deep in thought.

“Barnes found out just in time that we were going to hit him and hit him hard,” Steve said. “We were going to strike his turf, his holdings. Hansen. By now, he knows we figured out we were betrayed. He’s going to do one of two things. He’s going to try to hit us here, which we’re ready for and he would know that… Or he’s going sit tight and see what our next move is.”

Luca shook his head. “Barnes ain’t going to do shit right now. If he’s smart.”

Steve nodded. Scott looked as lost as you felt.

“Why not?” Scott asked.

“We can’t prove the hits on us were Barnes,” Luca explained. “We know they were, but we can’t prove it. Then there’s the other three families. They swore allegiance to Steve. If they find out Barnes is knifing Steve in the back, they’ll rally to our side. But if Barnes can get in their heads, make it look like Steve is paranoid and weak…”

From the beginning, Barnes’ plan was to prove Steve was unfit to lead the families. You remembered the first time you met him in the kitchen, the bitterness of his tone when he spoke to Steve. The belief that he should have been leader of the families – Barnes not Steve.

“Barnes can’t just fight Steve for leadership?” you had to ask, wanting to learn.

“No,” Luca told you. “He doesn’t have the muscle.”

“Why did Barnes have Hansen grab Dyson?” Scott shook his head. “If what you say is true, that move doesn’t make a lot of sense. No one is closer to Steve than him.”

“I don’t think that was Barnes’ idea,” Steve said. “We’d planned for Neal and Dyson to go deal with Hansen. And Hansen has it coming for attacking this house and trying to get his hands on my wife.”

“But Neal and Hansen grabbed Dyson instead,” Scott said. “How is that going to play out?”

“Dyson beat the shit out of Neal right here in this office,” Luca explained. “It’s perfect really. Neal claims he’s having problems with this family and Dyson beat him like a dog. So he defected, telling Barnes things to earn a place over there. Offing Dyson would be seen as just a little bit of payback between two soldiers. That’s how that plays out.”

You swallowed hard. It was all plausible. Complete bullshit and terrifying, but plausible.

“How do we get Dyson back?” Scott asked them.

“He wants to trade for him,” you told Scott. “He’ll let Dyson go if I agree to take his place.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open again. “What?”

“Hansen called my wife. He doesn’t know I was listening. He thinks he’s scaring her into doing what he wants.” Both Luca and Scott looked to Steve. Steve cut you a glance. “I really don’t like this either but that was his condition. And we have just under an hour to decide what we’re going to do.”

“Fuck,” Luca said. “That would start a war. Barnes can’t go around snatching someone else’s wife. The families would never accept that.”

“I don’t think that’s Barnes’ idea either,” Steve replied. “Not his style. But very much Hansen’s.”

“Hansen wants your wife?” Scott shook his head. “Then what? That would start a war between the families for sure.”

“I don’t think Hansen intends on sticking around for the outcome,” Steve said. “He likely thinks he can grab her and go.”

Your heart raced in your chest. You knew Steve wasn’t seriously considering the trade. That meant coming up with a plan where Steve kept you and got Dyson back too. No matter the plan, it was dangerous.

“You up for this?” Luca asked you in a calm voice.

For Dyson? “Yes, I am,” you told them with no hesitation.

Luca grinned. “Okay then. We need an airtight plan because whether or not he can get his hands on Mrs. Rogers, he’s not planning on leaving Dyson alive.”

What?

“Agreed,” Steve said.

“And we have some friends here to help,” Luca went on. “Friends with skills that are perfect for this.”

“The ones Yelena is with?” you asked.

“I know how you feel about Belova,” Steve said, “but she’s not that experienced.”

“The ones with her are,” Luca told them. “There are five of them and all but Aisha were fucking special forces.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not trusting just anyone with her,” Steve told them.

“Well, you can’t go,” Luca pointed out.

“What?” Steve asked.

“You can’t go,” Luca reiterated. “Hansen thinks she’s sneaking out to come make the trade. They see you and they’ll know it’s a trap.”

Color rose from Steve’s collar, darkened his face.

“You have to be here, and you know this,” Luca told him.

“I’m supposed to just send my wife to Hansen’s knowing I might never see her again?” Steve was getting more upset by the second. “Entrust her to people I don’t know?”

Luca put his hands on his hips. “Or we could keep her here. Sacrifice Dyson.”

“No!” you shouted. It wasn’t an option.

“That’s where we are,” Luca told him. “But we can make this work. I’ll call Clay right now, okay?”

After a moment, Steve nodded. “Give us a minute, okay?”

Luca and Scott left you alone with Steve. And Steve looked like he himself was facing the gallows.

Yeah, you were scared. But you had to try and save Dyson. From Hansen. From Neal.

“This is all on me,” Steve said, more serious than you’d ever seen him. “I want you to realize this. Yeah, I lost my temper about that incident, but it doesn’t seem so important now. And now I know Neal was the rat. He instigated all of it.”

Sliding a hand over your cheek, he gazed into your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll talk about it when Dyson and I get home,” you told him.

You were shaking but you were holding up. You could do this.

“If Dyson trusts the ones Luca is talking about,” Steve said, “then I will too.”

“I trust Yelena too,” you told him. “And she will be reinstated when we get back.”

Steve nodded. “But I fucking hate this. This is exactly the sort of thing I wanted to avoid. I’m going to lose my mind until this is over. Until you’re back here.”

Now he’d have an idea what you went through. The play of anger and fear in his expression kept you from enjoying it.

“I need you to promise me something. I know how you feel about Dyson and Yelena. I know you love them. But if things look to be going wrong or you don’t see a way to get everyone out, you get out of there. Even if it means you’re the only one who gets out. Even if it means you have to leave them behind.”

You just stared at him.

“Hansen wants you,” Steve reminded you. “He’s not going to harm you. Remember that.”

Leaning in, he kissed your lips. A seeking kiss, gentle and slow, almost as if he were asking permission. You answered it, a kiss to remind yourself that Steve wasn’t all bad. You still cared about him.

The desperation in his kiss grew. You could taste it. Steve was kissing you like it was goodbye. You didn’t miss the slight tremor in his hand on your face.

“Come back to me,” Steve whispered against your lips. “Please.”

Easing back, you gaze up at him. “I will. And we have a lot to talk about when I do.”

Both of you smiled at that. Your usual marital fighting seemed like a happy memory next to this.

“I love you,” Steve whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back, just in case you didn’t see him again.

And just maybe you meant it. The way your heart squeezed in your chest made you wonder…

***

You scrambled down the road like a scared little runaway, trying to play the part as Luca had explained it to you. The sun was going down and according to your phone, you had just under 20 minutes to reach Hansen’s house.

A small SUV pulled up next to you as you walked. Your Uber. When the driver asked if you were Mrs. Rogers, you nodded, climbed in the back.

The driver’s blue-eyed gaze met yours in the rearview mirror. He was a bigger guy with spiky blond hair and round glasses. He smiled before turning his attention to the road ahead.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

It was a strange question.

“I’m… fine,” you told him.

He nodded, driving along.

“I’m Jensen,” he explained. “Dyson’s a good friend.”

That got your attention. “Are you one of the friends Yelena’s been staying with?”

“Yeah,” he explained. “She’s going to be there with us. We’ve got a plan. We’ll do everything we can to get you and Dyson back home shortly.”

“Thank you,” you told him. “Thank you for helping us.”

“Hey,” Jensen said. “Dyson’s helped us out a couple of times. We owe him.”

It was good to know that they cared about getting Dyson out safely as much as you did.

“We’ll be there in about ten minutes,” he explained. “I’ll pull up and you just hop out, okay? I’ll stash the car and take up my position.”

“Okay,” you told him.

“You’ll need to leave your piece in here with me,” he went on.

“What?”

“Your gun,” Jensen said. “Put it in the duffel bag back there. It’s my stuff. I’ll make sure you get it back.”

You’d almost forgotten about it honestly, pulling it free of your jeans. “Why can’t I take it?”

He smiled. “Yelena said you shot him once.”

“I did.” You were proud of that. Having the gun made you feel a little safer.

“There are too many things that could go wrong here,” he said. “I promise I’ll get it back to you.”

You nodded, knowing you had no choice but to trust these people. Dyson trusted them…

Unzipping the bag, you made sure the safety was on and carefully put your gun in. There was another handgun in there among some other ordinary looking belongings. A keyring caught your eye. On it was a small picture of Jensen with a pretty woman and the cutest little girl. On the other side the words “Best Buy” were engraved into the pewter.

“Is this picture your family?” you asked, zipping the bag again.

“Yeah,” he said with a wide smile. “My fiancée and our daughter Charlie.”

“They are beautiful,” you told him.

“Thank you. We have a baby on the way,” he told you. “I’m trying to get her to the altar before he or she gets here though.”

“Let’s make sure that happens,” you told him with conviction.

Jensen nodded.

“Is there anything else I need to know going in?” you asked him.

“Just be yourself,” Jensen told you. “You have friends. Remember that. You’ll know me and Yelena anyway. Dyson. Follow our lead. We’ll get you home.”

Five minutes later, Jensen dropped you off in front of an older house. It was an isolated location with no neighbors in sight anyway. You did just what Jensen told you and hopped out, not looking back at him. You weren’t taking your eyes off the impressive house before you.

You walked along the stone path leading to the front door. Just off to the side of the house you saw Dyson’s Cadillac, Neal’s SUV. It was surreal and you struggled to keep your knees from knocking.

Neal was the asshole you believed him to be. He sold all of you out. He sold you out.

But the worst thing he did was try to take Dyson from you. You focused on him.

Dyson was yours. Your caretaker. Your friend. Your father.

It would be a cold day in hell when you let Neal or Hansen take him away from you.

Before your foot hit the first step, the front door of that house opened. Hansen.

Well, you didn’t want your audience to be disappointed. You took your time climbing the steps, your back straight, your chin up. When you stepped on the porch, only then did you meet his gaze. You gazed at the huge beast of a man as if he bored you. As if he were beneath you.

Hansen didn’t appear to be moving from the doorway to let you in. He grinned at you.

Then you stopped.

“Planning to pat me down and check for weapons?” you asked him.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, his grin widening.

You rolled your eyes. “Take me to Dyson. Now.”

Hansen stepped back, motioning you in with his hand. You walked by him, into a living room with a high ceiling and elegant furnishings. Nothing out of place in the opulent room.

Well, just one thing that didn’t belong there. A tiny purse, its purple leather standing out on the sand-colored upholstery. Why did Hansen have that?

You kept walking until you reached the kitchen. You met Dyson’s gaze first. He was bound to the chair, his face bloody and bruised. He was gagged. The steel in his gaze gave you courage. Told you without words that he trusted you.

Neal stood up from another chair at the kitchen table and he didn’t look much better. The only difference was Neal’s wounds had little time to scab over, to set in. You grinned at Neal.

“You look beaten down. How does it feel?” you asked him.

“Fuck you,” Neal spat, taking a menacing step closer to you.

You didn’t move.

“That’s some big talk for someone whose husband locked her in her room for disobeying him,” Neal said, cutting a glance at Hansen who stood behind you.

Hansen chuckled. “You couldn’t handle her any better than Rogers could.”

You flinched when you felt his hand at your lower back. Not a barely there, tentative touch. No, it was possessive. When it moved lower, you moved before he could touch your ass. You glared up at the bastard, hoping he couldn’t tell you were fucking terrified on the inside.

“The only one allowed to handle me at all is my husband,” you told him, raising your chin. “Now, Dyson goes back home. With me.”

Hansen’s grin didn’t subside. “That wasn’t the deal, princess. It’s a trade. Him for you. The only terms I’ll accept.”

“If you know me so well, you know I have no intention of ever making a trade,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Hansen cocked a brow at you. “Then what are your intentions? Your husband doesn’t know you’re here not that he ever knows what you’re doing.”

You tried your best to look bored. It was true. But having the enemy reference the fact that you didn’t appear to respect your own husband made you pause. You didn’t like it.

“Belova isn’t here to protect you,” Hansen went on. “You don’t appear to be armed. You don’t have a lot of options.”

Yelena was somewhere close. You hoped.

“We’re wasting time here,” Neal told him, his usually annoying self. You froze when he pulled out his gun, a Glock like yours, and pointed it at the back of Dyson’s head. “She goes to Barnes, we get rid of Dad here, and head over there to finish this. Rogers’ camp is in chaos right now. Let’s hit them while they’re weak.”

“You son-of-a-bitch.” You glared at him. “Steve thought so much of you. I couldn’t convince him otherwise. And this is what you’re doing?”

“It is.” Neal’s finger twitched around the trigger. Your heart raced in fear as Dyson’s gaze met yours, his gaze calm, like he was willing you to hang on. “Once we get rid of your husband, Barnes gets you and for that, he’s going to help me start my own family. I won’t be a soldier anymore. I’ll get everything I ever wanted.”

“Barnes?” You laughed humorlessly at that. “And you believed him?”

The man’s gaze moved from Dyson to you.

“That worked out so well for Banner,” you taunted him.

The gun in Neal’s hand lowered, wavered. Good. You were drawing his attention away from Dyson…

Before you could blink, Hansen pulled a gun and shot Neal in the face. Bone, brains, and gore splattered Dyson in his chair as your ears rang from the shot. Neal just dropped to the floor.

Now you were afraid. From the apprehension you read in Dyson’s gaze now, he was too.

Hansen tucked his gun away as casually as he might a phone or his wallet. He turned what he must have thought was a charming smile on you.

“Does this mean I’m not going to Barnes?” you had to ask. “Was anything he said true?”

“It was true,” he told you. “Barnes has everything carefully planned out. And he can have your husband, But he’s not getting you. That was never part of my plan.”

“How does that work with him being your boss?” you wanted to know. “Or are you betraying him the same way Neal was betraying Steve?”

That grin widened behind his mustache. “That’s just the way this little world of ours works. You’re either born into a family like you and Rogers or you make your own way like Neal here. But you’ve got to be smarter than that.”

“So where does that leave us?” You moved closer to Dyson, not turning your back on Hansen. He could have shot Dyson just as easily.

“You already know the answer to that,” Hansen told you, his gaze shifting from Dyson back to you. “A trade. You can send him home right now. But you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes. But inside, your fear was escalating. You remember the horrible things Yelena told you. What Hansen did to her. She was brave and fierce, more so than you. You didn’t want to consider what the asshole had planned for you.

You knew Dyson’s friends were with her. But Yelena herself? She was terrified of him, and she was right to feel that way.

Could Jensen get you out then?

Here’s hoping.

“Fine,” you told him. “Let him go. The trade isn’t complete until I have absolute proof that he’s back home.”

“Fine,” Hansen repeated slowly. The look he cut you told you he didn’t quite buy your performance. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he used it to cut through Dyson’s bonds, allowing him to pull the gag away himself.

Dyson eyed you warily. “Don’t do this,” he said calmly. “Whatever it is you think you’re doing, please don’t.”

Before you could say anything, Hansen blew out an exhale, looking more annoyed than anything. When he turned to look behind him, you saw the man standing there. He was tall as Steve with broad shoulders. The man was a little older with threads of white in his dark hair, in his beard. His grin gave him a very roguish charm.

“Oh, I think it’s a pretty good plan,” the man said, his voice deep whiskey. “We’re going to have to change it up though. We’re here to take Dyson and Mrs. Rogers back home.”

“That doesn’t work for me, Clay,” Hansen told him. “Now, I’m going to kill you. Then I kill Dyson. Then I’m taking Mrs. Rogers with me. And then we call it a day.”

From behind the man he called Clay, you saw Jensen step out. Your heart swelled to see Yelena, her concerned gaze on you. Both held handguns, assessing the situation. Yelena looked so small next to the two dangerous men.

Without looking, Hansen reached for his gun. A bullet hit the floor at his feet, had him jumping slightly in alarm before moving to put his hands back up and in view.

Yelena’s expression was pure rage.

“Hey, Lena,” Hansen crooned. “Miss me?”

You shook your head at her. Don’t answer him. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

You inched closer to Dyson until you put yourself between him and Hansen. Yelena’s eyes widened on you. But you knew what you were doing. You weren’t about to let Hansen kill Dyson.

Hansen’s laugh didn’t appear to phase the trio in front of you, but it chilled your blood. “I’m not exactly alone here,” he told all of you.

A tap at the kitchen window behind you got your attention. An armed soldier in body armor was holding an assault rifle outside, his eyes cold as he gazed at you. Two more soldiers crept up the hallway from the opposite direction to the kitchen, also armed with rifles.

Clay eyed them warily as your fear escalated. What happened now?

“They aren’t alone either,” a familiar voice said from behind Jensen and Yelena.

Tears pricked the backs of your eyes to see your husband making his way into the room, his gaze on you. He didn’t stop until he reached you. The expression he wore scared you because you’d never seen that before. It was terrifying. Only the emotion in his blue eyes revealed the relief he appeared to be feeling at reaching you.

You couldn’t help it. You ran to Steve’s side, wrapping your arms around his waist, clinging to him.

“Ballsy,” Hansen told him. “Let me guess. You’ve got this place surrounded.”

Steve’s nod was curt. “We’re done here.”

The smile faded from Hansen’s face. His gaze moved over you as you clung to your husband. It was covetous, angry.

“I say when we’re done here,” Hansen said coldly.

All you saw was the large hand that pulled the handgun out, pointing at Dyson who still sat in the chair where he’d been sitting the entire time. You saw the bastard’s finger at the trigger. Fast as you could move, you jumped in front of Dyson’s chair just as the shot rang out.

The room spun around you violently, as hands grabbed you. Dyson’s. Your husband’s. You saw your blood splatter the front of Dyson’s shirt and tie, more gore on top of Neal’s, as he watched in horror. It felt like someone punched you in the shoulder really, really hard.

There was a blur of activity in that moment all around you, but you weren’t aware of anything but the pain that was starting to come on and the sound of your husband dropping to his knees behind you. Crimson bloomed at the front of his white dress shirt and his hand flew to his chest as he went down.

Yes, you’d been shot.

But fear and guilt choked you to realize your husband took the brunt of it.

“Steve!” you screamed.

PS: Just on my fic posts, I’m adding a tip function. In honor of the kitty we just lost in February, I’m donating everything to our local animal shelter. Tips are not, will never be, and have never been expected. But if you feel so inclined, thank you. 🙏

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therealcocoshady · 8 months

Text

Recovery - Chapter 1

Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Y/N is getting sober and trying to rebuild her life after a hard breakup when she meets Marshall Mathers.

Tags : mention of SA ; Miscarriage ; Addiction

Author’s note : this is my first shot a my writing a fanfiction. Hope you enjoy it x

Chapter 1

- Thank you for having me, you said to Talia.

- No problem, baby. You stay as long as you need to, she answered while giving me a hug.

You looked around, taking everything in. In a matter of days, you had lost nearly everything. It all started when you woke up in the hospital, several tubes attached to your body.

FLASHBACK

Apparently, you had been in a coma for three days. Simon, your boyfriend of two years was sitting in a chair next to your bed.

- I can’t believe you did it again, Y/N.

- It’s not what you think, Simon.

- It is exactly what I think. You need help. You need to get yourself together. Next time you might not be so lucky. You might actually die, he said.

Dying. To be fair you hadn’t really tried to kill yourself. It was more complicated than that and Simon knew it.

- I’m sorry, you said, trying to hold his hand.

- No, he simply answered, taking his hand off yours.

He looked at you with a piercing gaze, not saying a word for what felt like forever. He didn’t need to, anyway. You already knew it was over.

- I love you, Y/N. I really do. But I can’t go on like this. You need to seek treatment, he said with tears in his eyes.

- I just wanted to sleep, you know, you tried to explain.

- By taking over 100 pills of Xanax ?! Are you fucking kidding me ? He asked, fire coming from his eyes.

- I…

Tears started rolling on your cheeks. As much as you knew you had done something terribly stupid, you wished he wouldn’t break up with you. You wished he would understand.

- Simon, don’t do this, you pleaded.

- I’m sorry, he simply said, getting up and grabbing his jacket. You have a problem and I cannot deal with it.

He walked towards the door and faced you for the last time.

- Your stuff will be packed when you get out of here.

And there it was. Shortly after moving in with your boyfriend, you were homeless.

END OF FLASHBACK

- Are you ok, Y/N ? Talia asked.

- Yeah. Sorry. I just… I can’t believe it’s over, you said. I really screwed up.

She gave you a big hug again.

- What’s done is done. Now you need to focus on getting better, she said.

- Thank you for being here for me. And allowing me to move in with you. And not judging me.

- What you need now is not judgement. It’s support. I am a bit mad though, she explained. I wish you had come clean to me about all those prescription pills.

- I thought I could manage, you tried to explain.

- Well you thought wrong.

Your best friend was being hard on you, and she had every right to be. For months, you had been lying through your teeth to everyone in your life. You had pretended that you were this happy-go-lucky girl who had it together. On the outside, you had everything : you were successful in your PhD research at university of Michigan, a loving boyfriend you had just moved in with and a tight-knit circle of friends who loved you unconditionally. But deep down, you had been unable to handle the pressure of your studies and, the hardest thing of all, you had lost your baby, going through a miscarriage at 13 weeks of pregnancy.

- You should rest before I take you to your meeting, Talia said. And then, we’ll go to the studio. Jamal invited us.

- Do we have to ? I think I’d rather come back here right after the meeting, you pleaded.

- Meeting new people will be good for you, she said. And I won’t lie : I don’t think you should be alone in here.

She was making it clear that she didn’t trust you. After all, how could you possibly prove that you weren’t going to be popping pills as soon as you were alone ?

- Right, you said.

She left you to your new room. Thank God she and Jamal, her boyfriend, were living in a big house with plenty of room to spare.

Jamal was a beat maker and producer and had made quite a name for himself. He was now starting to work with famous people. One of them was Eminem. You weren’t a big fan, although you did enjoy some of his most well-known music. In fact, this man was to be credited for you learning how to swear in English, as you’d learned the language by watching movies and listening to music. You hadn’t listened to him in a long time though and you were kind of wondering what he was up to, now.

Talia sometimes went to the studio with Jamal and she was getting along with everyone. According to her, “Em” (as she called him) was a great guy and she was pretty sure the two of you would get along.

FAST FORWARD

You had officially made it through your first NA meeting. It had been emotional but you were glad you went. Now was the time you dreaded : meeting everyone at the studio. As much as you appreciated Talia’s efforts to help you clear your head, you weren’t exactly the social type.

As the two of you entered the studio, you were greeted by half a dozen people. As soon as he saw you, Jamal got up and have you the biggest hug.

- How did it go ? He asked.

- Uh… it went well, I guess, you answered.

You weren’t particularly intent on talking about it, especially in front of people. Fortunately, Jamal was wise enough not to elaborate. The two of you were close and he knew better than to embarrass you. Still, you were thankful for his concern. From the moment he learned you’d be moving in with them, he had been nothing but supportive. « I know you’ll get through it », he had said.

Talia introduced you to everyone.

- So, this is Y/N, our new roommate and my very best friend, she said.

- How come we never met you before ? Somebody asked.

- Well, Y/N is a scholar so she doesn’t have a lot of time for people with lesser minds, she said jokingly.

You blushed immediately. Your best friend was the most supportive person of your work and she never stopped telling you how proud she was.

- Nice to meet you all, you said a bit awkwardly.

You shook everyone’s hand and you kind of had a shock as you introduced yourself to Eminem. You remembered him from at least fifteen years ago, blonde hair and clean shaven. He was now sporting brown hair as well as a well-trimmed beard. You would never have recognised him, had the two of you crossed path in the street. You couldn’t help but think to yourself that he was rather good looking. And in pretty good shape for an older dude who was in his early fifties. In fact, he did look at least ten years younger.

- Call me Marshall, he said as soon as he shook your hand.

- Ok, Marshall, you said while looking in his deep blue eyes.

He wasn’t as cheerful and smiling as the others, but he wasn’t distant either. You had always pictured him as a loud person, but the man you had in front of you was far from it. In fact, he seemed like the quiet, rather serious type. He looked like he was staring at you as if he was trying to read into your soul.

You joined Talia and sat on one of the big leather couches while everyone got back to working. You looked around and noticed that the studio seemed like a very comfortable, soothing space. For the first time today, you eased a little.

After some time, the group decided to take a break. Most of them went outside to smoke a cigarette and get some air, but you stayed inside. You did indulge in the occasional cigarette but you had been told it would be easier for you to refrain from taking any substance. You tried to be reasonable and not get tempted by the smell.

At some point, you were left with only Marshall, who was listening to the tune they just recorded in his headphones, pushing buttons on the mixing desk.

- So, how long have you been sober ? He asked as he looked at you.

- How do… how do you know ? You asked in shock.

- I was with Talia and Jamal when they got the call about one of their friends behind in the hospital after an OD. And you playing with your NA chip kind of tipped me off, he shrugged.

- Oh. Right. Actually, today was my first meeting, you said and blushed a little.

- Recovery is hard, he pointed out. Congrats on taking the first step.

You didn’t say more and he got back to mixing, as you stayed silent and watched him being extremely focused. As you studied him, you couldn’t help but notice an AA necklace dangling from his neck.

- So you’re in recovery too ? You asked.

- Yeah. Been sober for fifteen years now, he said with a smile.

- Wow. That’s impressive.

- Doesn’t mean it’s always easy, though, he confessed. But it’s 100% worth it.

There were a hundreds of questions going through your mind, but you clearly did not know him enough to ask them. Instead, you just smiled.

- Want to give me your opinion on the track ? He offered with a smile while handing you the headphones.

- I know nothing about music but sure, why not, you said, taking place in the chair next to his.

You placed the headphones on your ears and he played the song. You closed your eyes, in order to concentrate on what you were hearing. You were amazed at how fast this man was able to rap. Yet, you could hear and understand every single word. You particularly enjoyed the rhyming schemes. And, as ever with Jamal, the music was on point.

- it’s good, you said. It’s really good.

- Good to hear, he said with a smile.

The others came back to the room and Talia seemed extatic at the sight of you and Marshall talking. She knew how shy you were and every time you talked to someone new, she saw it as some sort of victory.

- So, people, Jamal said. How about y’all come to our place after ?

Everyone cheered and agreed. From what you gathered, it was usual for the group to meet at Jamal and Talia’s after a long day at the studio, so that they could kick back and get their mind off work. Talia held your hand in hers.

- I forgot Jamal wanted to have people over, I’m so sorry she said.

- It’s fine, you reassured her. But I’d rather stay in my room, if you don’t mind.

As everyone was arriving at Talia and Jamal’s, you said your goodbyes decided to hide in your room. Not that everyone hadn’t been super nice, but you highly suspected that there would be alcohol involved, if not weed. While you were climbing up the stairs, Talia grabbed your arm.

- Are you going to be ok ? There won’t be any hard liquor or anything like that, Y/N. Just a few beers, she said.

- I know, but… it’s been a long day. Meetings, people… I’d rather rest, you reassured her.

- Sure, she said as she gave you a peck on the cheek. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.

As soon as you entered your room, you changed into some comfier clothes : a cream-colored, cashmere set. You removed your makeup and put your hair up in a bun. You weren’t going to see people anyway so why bother ? You decided to watch Friends (your favorite show on Earth) and snuggle under a throw that reminded you of the place you shared with Simon.

After a couple of episodes, you heard a unfamiliar knock.

- come in ? You said.

The door opened and you saw Marshall standing there.

- So, are you hiding ? He asked with a smile.

- Kind of, you admitted.

- You have nothing to be scared of, he said. It’s very chill, downstairs.

- There’s still booze, right ?

- Just beer.

- I don’t really trust myself, you admitted.

- You had a drinking problem too ? He asked.

- Nope. Just pills. But now that they’re gone, I swear I’d take anything just to feel remotely… whatever.

- I feel you, Marshall said.

- Do you ?

- Yes, he simply said, showing his AA necklace.

- How do you feel so comfortable in a setting like this then ? You asked, wondering if you would ever get to the same point.

- It’s been 15 years, he explained. It gets easier with time. Plus, I’ve come to value the person I’ve become much more than the person I used to be when I was using. No money in the world could convince me to come back to that.

- It’s hard, you know. Hiding here when I know what’s going on down there, I said.

- Talia already gave Jamal so much shit about it, he said with a laugh.

This made you smile. Deep down, you knew Jamal didn’t mean harm, so you were kind of hoping Talia wasn’t giving him too much of a hard time.

- Thank you, you whispered. I don’t want to deprive you of your own fun, though.

- It’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna stick around for long. I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a drive. You know, change your mind …?

- Uh… sure, I replied. Give me 5 minutes so that I can get dressed ?

He left the room and you quickly put together an outfit with a pair of dark wash jeans, a black turtleneck, a pair of knee-high boots and a blazer. You put your hair in a sleek ponytail and added some mascara for good measure. You weren’y trying too hard, but I definitely wanted to make an effort. After all, you had just met him - and he was extremely attractive.

- Ready to go, you said as you emerged of my room.

- Some sweats would have been enough, you know, he said joking.

- Oh. I started blushing.

- You look great though.

He didn’t say a word more and you got downstairs.

- Y/N and I are going on a drive, Marshall announced.

- Wait a minute, Talia said before you got the chance to get through the door.

She looked at both of you.

- No messing around. No drinking. No smoking. Nothing illicit or illegal. And you’d better be back home before midnight.

- Yes, Marshall noted with a chuckle.

- Yes Mom, you said jokingly while giving her a peck on the cheek.

As you got ouf of the house, you got to an impressive car. You were never good at recognising the brands or models, but this one was huge and it seemed like it was really expensive. It was also a bit contrast with Marshall, who did not look like the over-the-top stereotypical rapper. In fact, he was wearing normal clothes - jeans and a hoodie, no luxury logo to be seen.

- Where are you taking me ? I asked.

- You’ll see, he said with a voice full of mystery.

Normally, you wouldn’t have agreed to a car ride with someone you barely knew, but you were so eager to leave the house that you did not really care.

You took place in the car and Marshall started driving.

#eminem #marshall mathers #eminem x reader #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader

204 notes · View notes

alwaysshallow · 11 months

Text

— gorgeous, chapter 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Third visit, and complications. Not only with your car. (3,4k)

READ ON AO3

previous part || next part

When it was your third time to see him, two weeks later again in your clinic, it wasn't the best day for you, to be honest.

Everything seemed to be against you. Not only your dearest coffee machine broke, but you didn't bring your umbrella on the walk back to the clinic since your car didn't work. And, of course, it rained cats and dogs, so you were pretty much pissed.

Another two weeks you spent on testing your luck with your car because once you could perfectly ride with it, and once it wouldn't just work because engine wouldn't even start. So, you continued with your little tradition of walking back home with hope that no one would murder you in the bushes. Or kidnap you.

You thought Simon would have a great laugh of this if it would happen, considering that he told you that's better to not test your luck and just go with it to mechanic. Celia's contact in your phone looked almost embarrassing every time you thought about it, so, you just weren't looking. You fought over a stupid thing months ago, and now you were too prideful to just admit she was right.

Shit happened, but you had your pride, and that occurred in being a fucking dumbass with car that wasn't exactly in the right condition, so you had to walk sometimes.

You had to eventually speak to Celia, you knew that, but you were extending that time for the longest.

Day in work was the usual; probably the calmest possible, good for you, considering that you've already had enough when you walked to the clinic. People were nice, talkative a bit, but you didn't mind that at all – if so, you liked people's stories. Older lady, named Madelyn, told you about struggles with her grandson that apparently was a big animal lover, but "violent" one. Four year old wasn't aware he was supposed to be delicate with his grandma's dog, so before she knew, he sat on him.

If her dog was a big one, like German Shepherd, it wouldn't be a problem. But, it was just a Jack Russell terrier, which caused you to chuckle a bit, when she told you that because they had luck nothing serious happened. To help old lady a bit, you gave her a special book for kids, how to communicate with animals.

She was in heaven when you handed her that, so it was a win.

Your work day quickly came to almost an end – almost, because you had one patient that you've waited for, and that was Simon's cat. For some reason, he always wanted to be the last in the line with Sparkles, so you respected that. It was supposed to be another routine visit after another two weeks.

And, for some reason, the thought of meeting him was tingly. It was a bit cheesy and sounded like a phrase picked up from fanfiction, but he was different. Different than people you usually met, different in the way that was just interesting for you to explore. Hell, you wanted to make him talk some more, like this time when you were walking in the same direction until he took another road. His voice was addictive, low, and the British accent was just fitting him so much that you could cry over it easily, you wanted more.

Simon seemed to loosen up the second visit, so you had hopes about the third one, after all. It was supposed to be the last one, another one in a month, so you wanted to melt that ice a little bit more before that break.

Fuck, you seemed like a teenager all over again when you thought about it.

"Someone's waiting for you." Bernie said, snapping you back to reality from your thoughts. She looked… mixed, out of sudden. "You want to pick that up, though."

"What? Can't they talk with me here?" you raised an eyebrow. If that certain someone was a client, you could take them here since you've been already waiting for Simon and had a small gap. It wouldn't hurt you.

"I figured out it would be better if you'd meet him outside." your assistant said, which came out a bit in a mumble; with a frown, you walked out of the room.

Bernie was never so mysterious about your visitors – yet, gears processing in your head told you it was someone you would rather avoid. Like, your day was already pretty fucked up, so you assumed the worst.

And, of course, you assumed right.

"Oh, fucking great" you scoffed under your breath, as you crossed your gaze with a stranger that was under your clinic's door.

Or, at least, you wanted for him to be a stranger, because he was your ex. Lousy one, where you wanted nothing from him, but to punch him in the face. You were together for three years straight, broke up about five months ago, just because he found someone else to bug.

Honestly, you were a little bit relieved when he broke up with you – still sad, but also relieved, considering that son of a bitch was… suffocating. Trying to cut your contacts with all of your friends, including Rosalie, including everyone that could be a "potential threat". Toxic partner as it finest, but you felt he would fuck up your life even more if you would try and break up with him. So, you stayed, praying for a miracle, which was cheating, in his case. It felt like a huge favor when he told you that, well, he doesn't love you anymore and he thinks a breakup is the best option.

He was silent after that – until now, of course, and you could only imagine what he wanted from you.

"Hey, pretty thing." he smiled widely, looking at you. "Looking marvelous, as always. Still in shape after the breakup, I see?"

"You thought I'm gonna cry after you?" you raised an eyebrow. "Cut the crap and compliments, Vince. What do you want?"

Your ex chuckled.

"Well, ain't that the attiude I love, bird. Haven't you missed me? Because I did, and I thought we could do a little date."

Oh, he wasn't fucking serious, was he?

Not knowing how to react, you laughed, trying to see what his reaction would be – and in simple words, he switched attiudes fast. From charming and "appealing", Vince's face became a bit stern, dark, like he didn't like the answer you just gave him.

Immediately it gave you flashbacks from your relationship, where your every reaction was calculated since he liked to be rough. Since he loved irritating the shit out of you, just to see you're not gonna do shit about it.

Because he was stronger. Because he could easily overpower you, trap you into thinking that you were the wrong one, not him. Because he always apologized with flowers and crocodile tears in his eyes, when you stood your ground.

He was a motherfucking manipulator.

"You broke up with me just five months ago, and you want to be back together, suddenly?"

"I'm not talking about getting back together. Simple fucking. She's not it, you know?" he raised his eyebrow, mimicking you from earlier. "I do not like that reaction, though. Gotta work on that, baby."

"Mhm, no way. You can go fuck yourself." you shook your head, turning back from him, to go straight to your clinic.

There wasn't a point for you to talk to your ex especially when he was nothing but a douche, you thought it would be the best to leave him behind and ignore. He, in the other hand, didn't – and you were painfully reminded that when he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from going or pushing him. It was a hard grip.

"Be a little nicer, will you? I'm trying to be a gentleman, baby." he murmured, and you almost felt how everything is just rising in you.

That little "nickname" especially furiated you.

"Let me go, Vince."

"I could just take you, you know? Anywhere, even in your little clinic, and yet, I'm asking nicely. So, stop acting like a little bitch and–"

"–Good morning."

Your eyes immediately went to the stranger's voice – even if you didn't see him, you knew who it was. That sharp tone, cold, brown eyes, transporter with his cat in it; hell, it looked almost hilarious. Height difference between him and your ex wasn't big, yet, if you'd be talking about muscle…

All in all, Simon probably could eat him alive if he wanted to.

"Morning. I'll take you and Sparkles in a minute." you smiled weakly, trying to at least act okay, like nothing was happening. He didn't need any of this shit, you thought you could play it perfectly on your own.

"I'll take you?" your ex laughed, shaking his head to himself. His grip tightened on your wrist, and that made Simon put transporter on the ground immediately. "Seriously? He's your new toy or something, Addison?"

"He's a client and even if he were, it's none of your business. I already told you no."

"Barely five months, and you're acting like a whore" he laughed bitterlessly, looking at you with pure venom. "I wonder, how many dudes–"

Your ex wasn't even capable of finishing that sentence. His comments were like a breaking point for Simon, as he grabbed his two wrists, freeing you from him and bent Vince's arms under… really, really weird and uncomfortable angle.

It was almost unbelieveable how easy he did it, and it all looked like he wasn't putting any effort in it, even if you knew he had to.

"When a lady" he started, his voice low "tells you no, I think she does mean it, hm?"

"Oh, fucking let go of me, dude, you don't even–"

"–I believe she told you the same, and you didn't let her go."

How Simon looked right now, surprised even you – it's not like he was visibly mad or anything, because he had a motherfucking poker face. Yet, he looked terrifying, and if you would be in Vince's place, you'd run as fast as you could, trying to just get out of his sight.

Probably your ex thought the same since he looked at him furiously, mumbled some "sorry" that didn't sound convincing at all and walked away, when blonde let him go.

It made you feel lighter when you saw him stepping into his car and driving off.

"Thank you." you said, looking up in your 'savior's' eyes, who now eyed you up and down, trying to… find something? You didn't know until he pointed at your wrist, a bit concerned? It was really hard to read him or what he was thinking.

"How's your wrist?"

Oh.

"Been better." you shrugged, looking at your wrist too. Maybe it wasn't the worst, but you still felt like Vince's hands were there. "You didn't have to."

He rolled his eyes.

"Bullshit. Everyone who has some common sense should do this" he sighed, his eyes going up to meet yours.

For a few second, you both were silent, just two people looking at each other and you couldn't find the right words. Even if you thanked him, it seemed like too little considering he made Vince go away.

Even if it was for a moment and he could come back. It was… thoughtful.

"Not everyone would." you commented, but he was silent on that, as his brows furrowed. "Come on in, we have an appointment to do."

Simon followed you, without any word of course – he was being all mysterious again, or just simply in his thoughts, but you didn't mind. Not when you had a cat to take a good look at and Sparkles was absolutely looking gorgeous, even more healthier and even more… lively? Well, you could say that, especially the moment she practically jumped out of the transporter and you barely catched her, laughing at her behavior. Bernie was mesmerized too.

After a second or two of petting (Sparkles was irrestible, just that) you started examining her again, and when you really thought she doesn't need another x-ray, you did one, just in case your sixth sense was wrong. She seemed more than okay though; as you allowed her to inspect some places in your room and walk around, there was no hesitation in her moves.

That ginger cat even jumped over a few counters, causing Simon to have a heart attack and order her around to get down while Bernie was reaching her hands to her. You barely held back a laughter while you waited for x-ray results, because 6'4 man was practically begging his cat to come down, and she didn't give a shit about this. What's more funny, she licked her paw, not bothering to look at her owner.

You thought that he was more fitting for a dog owner, though – at least, the first time you looked at him. Back then, you could see how good his cat was for him especially considering the reputation they had and the attitude they had. Pretty much, the cats were Simon, and Simon was a cat. Black one.

Stepping their own path, choosing carefully who they want to trust, and who they want to simply avoid. It was the first vibe he gave off, and you didn't know about any other specific thing since he wasn't chatty, but it was a gut feeling.

And your gut feelings, mostly, weren't wrong.

X-ray came quickly; just as you thought, everything was healing up pretty well and Sparkles could just be fine with walking around apartment or really any other area, without her owner lurking at her all the time. What's more to it, a big satisfaction for you, she was looking even better, which you obviously said to him, like a praise.

Everything was fine, so why you were feeling a little sad? It was uncanny to feel this way, especially about something so normal, like a client and their owner. It was never something deeper, he never told you anything to feel attached to. Bernie wasn't feeling this way, she even left before results came in because it was late.

So why were you?

"You'll get a text when your visit will be scheduled. If something would be bothering you, I'm always over the phone" you smiled a bit, giving Sparkles a last bump in her tiny nose, before closing the gabinet behind you.

Once again, Simon was the last client. What a coincidence, huh?

"Right." he mused.

He looked like he was about to say something else, but didn't – at least, not until when you moved past your car, even if your keys were dingling in your hand. Simon even raised his eyebrow which was odd enough since mostly he had this perfect poker face.

"Can't believe it."

"Listen, listen" you squealed, one of your hand going through your hair. "I have a point in not giving my car to my mechanic. It would be rude."

Simon huffed, his eyes glistening with amusement.

"Rude. Giving car to mechanic, whose job is, simplest words given, repairing cars."

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

"Well, okay, it's not only that. She's my best friend, Celia. And we haven't spoken in… eight, nine months because we had a fight."

He was silent; awfully silent, so you took it as a sign to bring him into the details, if he wanted it or not.

"You know, she told me to break up with Vince. Called me a few names, I called her a shitty best friend, we were even. She was right though" you sighed. "But since then… well, it is just bad to reach out to her because my car is in shitty condition. It's not right." you babbled.

"And he ain't even worth a fight." he mumbled, more than himself than to you; your gazes crossed once again. "Just talk to her. It's just a man, your friendship is more valuable. And, your car is more valuable than this."

"Smart, coming from just a man" you teased him with a smile, nudging his side with your elbow.

You knew he was right though; Vince wasn't even worth it in the first place. To fight over someone like him.

Which was ironic, after fight with Celia, you two were together for only a few months. Theoretically, you could reach out after the breakup, but in practice, a wave of shame and guilt going through you was damn big that time. She was your friend, even best friend just trying to give you advice. Maybe too harshly, but it was her way of doing things – after saying something out of place, she was realizing that it might appear bad.

A sagittarius, what's more to explain?

"See, I'm the famous exception." he looked at you; he didn't nudged you back or anything, but seeing the corner of his lips twitching a bit was good enough for you. Cocky, challenging. He was confident.

You wanted to even dig in deeper, make some comments about this little smile to rile him up a bit, but you forgot what was on your mind in seconds when you realized that he was still walking with you.

He was supposed to turn right at crossroad.

"Taking a shortcut?" you asked him, even if in your mind was another question. It was better to play dumb than making assumptions, you thought.

"Walking you home."

You raised an eyebrow – surprised that you were right. You tried to tell yourself that maybe it wasn't big. He was in military after all, maybe it was a feeling of responsibility talking, work responsibility, to take care of everyone.

Yet, a feeling in your chest was a warm one. He was practically a stranger with absolutely cute cat, adorable eyes and a face that practically begged to be studied better. Still, you were a bit too shy to look, as you didn't want to appear as rude.

"May I ask why?" you glanced at transporter in his hand with Sparkles in it.

"You may, always. The thing is, I might not answer" he hummed, his eyes on the road straight, although you could see that his attention is on the high alert. A simple noise, and his eyes darted to the place.

"I know it anyway. Why are you doing this, I mean."

"Do you?" he raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Then?"

"Well, I might not tell you that."

Simon snorted with laughter.

"Alright."

You lasted maybe a minute of quiet.

"I think that's because of that situation with Vince. And because I don't have this shitty car, so you thought it would be better to, like, walk me home. Even if it's not something that you have to do."

"You're always like this?" he asked after a few seconds, out of the blue, and you had to blink twice to register that.

"Like what?"

"Talking. Even if you pretty much told me you're not gonna tell me."

"…yeah." you mumbled with a bit of shame, pink creeping at your cheeks. "Are you always so reserved?"

"Negative. I'm not reserved, 'st talking when I'm supposed to." he shrugged, as he looked at you, which you saw with the corner of your eye, considering that now your attention was on your sneakers. "And that assumption… might be true. Too many jackasses are walking 'round here, including your ex."

"Oh, you have no idea."

After this comment, the rest of road to your apartment was pretty much silent – and it wasn't also that much far, so before you even knew, you stood right in front of your apartament building.

"I guess that's it. Thank you, seriously. You didn't have to, and yet, you did" you chuckled awkwardly, taking a few steps back. "Night, Simon."

"Night." he nodded.

"Addison?" he called out, which made you look back at him. "Check that car, alright? I'm gonna send you the number to my mechanic, but talk with that Celia girl."

"Oh, I… yeah, alright. Gonna wait for that." you choked out, surprised.

It was a nice feeling – to know that he's gonna text you, and not only that, he… well, was "care" the good word for what he did? You couldn't help but wonder when you finally found yourself in front of your door, third floor of building. Something pushed you to check if he's still visible out there – and, he was, even if barely, walking calmly with that transporter of his.

And one second later, he looked straight in your window.

Was that a coincidence? Maybe, but the feeling made you dizzy, so you hid swiftly behind the wall, clearing your throat – a few seconds later, when you looked again, Simon was gone, leaving you with many thoughts.

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