#they also help her to know what direction to take

[pretentious-blonde]

insecurity

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: after you become closer to a certain metalhead, steve can't stop the insecurities that stem from his previous relationship. when it all becomes too much, you are left to deal with his outrage.

warnings: arguments, angst, steve is mean, panic attack (fluff ending ofc)

a/n: idk, this was supposed to be short and sweet but i got carried away!

The bell above you jingled as you entered Family Video, stopping briefly to glance around the shop for a certain brown-haired boy who had managed to capture your heart a little over six months ago. It didn’t take long to spot him, a grin plastered on his face as he stood behind the counter. With crossed arms, leaning his hip against the wooden edge, nodding along half-heartedly to whatever Robin was saying. She sat cross-legged on the desk, arms moving wildly as she spoke, her face lighting up as she noticed your presence. 

“There she is! Finally, I can’t tolerate this man for much longer,” she says with a huff, kicking her feet off the counter and pointing at Steve who was clearly not as into the conversation as she was. His attention hasn’t strayed from you since you came in. “Your turn.”

“Lucky for you,” he begins, briefly glancing in Robin’s direction, pointing back towards her as you rounded the corner to emphasise his point. “She tolerates me for hours.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you leaned into him, whispering a hello before smirking in Robin’s direction. “I’d say it’s more than tolerating,” you add.

Steve has a smug look on his face at your comment, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. You can feel the warmth he radiates through his jumper, his fingers finding your jaw to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

The moment between you both was swiftly interrupted by a loud gagging noise. “Okay. I’m third-wheeling. Gross.” Robin stated as she hopped off her makeshift throne with a huff.

You roll your eyes, still trapped in Steve’s embrace, not ready to let go just yet. “You sure you’re not just jealous Rob?”

“Pssh,” she scoffs as she throws a VHS tape from one hand to the other. “Sure. If I wanted someone who can’t alphabetise for shit, then yes. I’d be all over Harrington.”

“Ouch,” Steve pipes up from your side. “Also I don’t want to hear anything from you after what you did to the returns bin. It’s chaos.”

“Organised chaos, maybe,” she replies as she points the VHS directly at Steve. “My system is far superior.”

You glance over at your boyfriend, a look of disbelief at her previous statement, he was about to interrupt but Robin quickly changed the subject. “I thought you were supposed to come by here yesterday? Or was I making that up?”

“Oh, I was. But Dustin asked me last minute if I was free,” you tell her. “He introduced to to his friend—Eddie? I think he mentioned him before. We all hung out for a bit.”

The words slip out of your mouth naturally and a small smile graces your lips as you remember the day before. What you don’t notice is the way Steve stiffens beside you. His hand, which was fitted perfectly against your shoulder, tensed slightly. Unbeknownst to you. 

“Eddie?” He asks, forcing his voice to stay light and cheerful. He wouldn’t dream of dampening your bright mood. Not when you had gone out of your way to drop by and see him. Although, that fact did nothing to stop the unsettling feeling in his stomach. 

You nod enthusiastically as he pays you his full attention, admiring the way your hair bounces along with your movements. It briefly distracts him from overthinking, that is, until you open your pretty mouth again. “Yeah, you know Dustin—he’s always finding new people to drag into his D&D world. Eddie’s super into it, too.”

His jaw tightens, his smile falters and he hopes to god you don’t notice, masking it with a casual nod. Eddie Munson, he thinks and cannot help the bitterness he feels. Of course, he remembers the metal head from high school, Dustin had been mentioning him more too. He never cared about popularity, the social hierarchy. Just… did his own thing. No matter what others thought of him. 

Steve was all Ralph Lauren polos and Members Only jackets, tender smiles and sickly sweet kisses. Eddie was band patches and ripped jeans, unapologetic and confident. Not like Steve at all. The total opposite in fact.

He glances at you in the corner of his eye, then quickly back to the counter, the knot in his chest growing tighter. He knew, he knew, he was reading too much into it, but he just couldn’t stop himself. Especially after Nancy broke his heart. It was only when he met you that it began to heal again. 

Is that what you’re into? The carefree, rebellious type? While Steve has spent his entire high school career trying to fit the mold, Eddie has smashed it. And what did he have to show for it? A washed-up ex-popular kid working at a video store? Not a lot, clearly.

“So… what did you guys get up to?” He asks, fiddling with the pen on the desk, trying to act as indifferent as possible. 

“Not much. Just hung out, talked about D&D for a bit,” you reply with a shrug. “Dustin thinks he is some kind of genius when it comes to that game.”

Robin chimes into the conversation, unaware of the tension radiating from the brunette next to you. “Well, if you’re into D&D Eddie is the go-to around here,” she tells you. “It sounds like you’re his next recruit.”

Steve’s laugh is forced this time, and you notice it, a small frown appearing on your face. He curses himself internally, quickly leaning over to place a kiss on the side of your head, a reassuring gesture for the both of you. “Sounds fun,” he says softly. “Maybe next time I could tag along.”

Just so he can see what Eddie’s intentions are, see if he is testing his luck with you. He has already lost one girlfriend to another guy so it seemed like a normal thing to investigate. Nothing weird about that… right?

You laugh and shake your head, patting his broad chest playfully. “Trust me, Steve, you don’t have to do that. D&D is certainly not your thing.”

He deflated at your statement, even though it was definitely true. He lets out a chuckle to ease the insecurity he is feeling. “Yeah, I’ll leave the nerd stuff to Dustin and Eddie,” he says, trying to play it off as nothing serious. 

You see the sad look that penetrates his features, mistaking it for him just feeling left out. You grab his hand and give it a small squeeze. “Am I still alright to come over to your tomorrow? Evening sound good?” You ask, hoping he could see how much you still wanted to spend time with him, despite your new friend.

“Of course, angel,” he replies, completely melting at the soft tone of your voice, looking up at him with those gentle eyes of yours. You could probably make him do anything with that expression on your face. He can’t resist stealing another kiss from you when you look like that. You smile up at him as he reluctantly pulls away. 

“Okay, great!” You wave as you make your way to the door, bell ringing as you open it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watches you leave until you are no longer visible, the tightness in his stomach easing ever so slightly at the thought of having you all to himself tomorrow. Just him. His girl. 

As soon as he turns around, Robin is smirking directly at him, arms crossed across her chest. “So, what’s the deal with Eddie?” She asks, her tone teasing. “You gonna join Hellfire now?”

Steve rolls his eyes at her, already dreading the incoming round of quips. “Hell no, I’m not touching that stuff.”

“Aw, c’mon Steve. I think you would make a great dungeon master,” she doesn’t even bother trying to hide the laugh that is bubbling in her throat. “You certainly are dramatic enough for it, you know? ‘King Steve’ and all that.”

“Yeah right,” he mutters, growing more irritated by the second. He usually had all the time in the world for her jabs, but currently? The tapes in his hands were the most interesting thing in the world to him as he tried to brush her off. “I’m retired from the whole ‘king’ thing, remember?”

She grins as she leans across the wooden counter, standing on her tiptoes to get closer to him. “True, true. But at least we know Eddie is pretty chill now, we don’t just have to take Dustin’s word for it.”

There it is, that name again—Eddie. He says nothing as he grabs more tapes off the side. Not that it served any purpose, just anything to keep his hands busy and mind preoccupied. 

“I mean, I have never really spoken to him,” she continued as she paced the shop floor, stopping only to place another VHS in her ‘newly organised’ returns section. “But he’s got that whole ‘rebel without a cause’ thing going on. You know? It’s pretty admirable.”

Yeah, I know, Steve thinks sourly. That’s precisely the problem. He does know. The free spirit who never once cared about fitting in, or pleasing anyone, and now here he was—Dustin’s new best friend and the subsequent new guy in your life. 

“Yeah, well,” Steve forces out another fake laugh, just as badly hidden as the first. “Good for him.”

Robin turns to face him directly, noticing the strain in his voice. “You’re not… jealous, are you?”

Her question catches him off guard, fumbling with the tape in his hand and nearly dropping it. “What? No. Why would I be jealous of Eddie Munson?”

“Alright, alright, no need to get defensive,” she holds her hands up in surrender, her eyes still trained on him. “It’s just… I don’t know. You’re acting weird?”

He didn’t respond right away, focusing on a blank point between two VHS tapes in front of him, he repeated the question in his mind. Weird? He wasn’t being weird. Was he?

Shrugging his shoulders casually, he glances at the clock, suddenly wishing for the small arms to go faster so he could see you again—just the two of you. No Eddie. No distractions. Just you and him alone. Maybe then he could stop himself from spiralling. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind for the rest of his shift, not when he had seen this story play out once before, with him ending up on the losing side. 

Laughter filled the cramped space of Eddie’s trailer. Dustin had invited you over here a few hours earlier and now here you were, doubled over on his couch, clutching at your sides as Eddie continues his ridiculous story. “And then—then he turned around and slammed right into the closet door! Swear to God, I thought he was gonna be out cold!” He finished, completely in stitches at his own tale. 

Dustin was practically rolling on the floor at this point, teeth on full show as he tried to get his words out cohesively. “How did you find these people, Eddie?!” He gasped between his giggles. 

You were wiping away the tears from your eyes, way past the point of caring if your makeup was smudged. As you came back to reality, you glanced over at the clock, freezing completely as you registered the time. 

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, your stomach dropping. “Guys, I gotta go. Like—like right now.”

You immediately leapt up off the worn-out couch, grabbing your jacket in a hurry and shoving your feet into your shoes. You had about ten minutes to be at Steve’s front door and had completely lost track of the time. “He’s gonna kill me,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached for your bag. Even though it wasn’t true, it was more likely he would be moping around the living room, glancing at the front door every couple of minutes awaiting your arrival. Just sad that he couldn’t get to spend more time with you. Steve didn’t get angry with you. Ever. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his form still draped across the couch. “What’s the rush princess? Hot date with Steve?”

You briefly glanced over in his direction, looking increasingly flustered. “Well, yeah,” you admitted. “I was supposed to be there, uh, now.”

Before you could bolt out the door, you heard a groan coming from across the room. “Don’t sweat it, I’ll drive you.” Eddie rose from his seat and grabbed his keys from the coffee table in front of him, twirling them around his finger. “No way I’m letting you bike all the way there.”

You blinked in surprise at his offer. “Really? Are you sure? You honestly don’t have to—“

Eddie waved his hand in your direction, ignoring your concern. “It’s no problem. Besides, I’m not gonna be responsible for you showing up at Steve’s all sweaty and out of breath. The guy would kill me,” He shot a teasing grin in your direction as he headed to the door, holding it open as both you and Dustin ducked under his arm, heading straight for his van. 

The journey was easy, with Eddie being a surprisingly safe driver, music as loud as his personality. In between the heavy guitar riffs that thumped through the radio, he turned to you with a mischievous expression. “So… you and Steve, huh?”

You felt the blush rise to your cheeks at his comment, not getting a chance to respond as he continued. “I just meant you’re good together, you know? I never really saw him as the ‘settle down with a girlfriend’ type. But hey, they say love changes a person.”

You drew your gaze away from the passing trees, unable to hold the smile that had spread across your face. “Yeah, he’s—he’s really great,” you admitted softly. You could barely put into words how great he was without gushing, so that small line would have to do for now. If Eddie only saw how Steve treated you, both in public and private, all his questions would certainly be answered. 

Steve may not have had the same chaotic energy as Eddie or Dustin, but that didn’t matter one bit. Steve was… solid. Reliable. He made you feel safe. Made you feel cherished. 

The long-haired boy next to you shrugged, his tone still kind. “Hey, if Dustin likes him, well that’s saying something. The kid is picky when it comes to his friends.”

Dustin, now making his presence known from the back seat, spoke up. “Damn right!” 

As Eddie pulled up in front of the large house, he leaned over the centre controls, giving you a playful nudge. “Don’t keep him waiting any longer. I bet he is pacing a hole in the floor.”

You playfully glare at him as you pop the door open. “He’s not that bad.”

“Sure,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Well, tell him Dustin and I said hey.”

“Will do,” you replied as you hopped out of the van. You waved at the two of them as they began to drive away, heavy metal music blaring as they faded into the distance. Your smile from Eddie’s previous comment was still lingering on your lips as you bounded up to the front door, excitedly ringing the bell. 

What you didn’t see was Steve had witnessed the entire interaction from his window—your expression as you laughed with Eddie and Dustin, how you looked so at ease and comfortable around them. You hadn’t even known them for that long. The sight twisted something ugly up inside of him, insecurities that were larger than he knew. He didn’t know how to handle them, the thought of being left behind. 

The door swung open after a few moments, and there stood your Steve, leaning casually against the door frame as he looked you up and down. God, he was whipped. “Hey, there you are,” he said with that classic, easy, Steve smile, relief washing over him the second he laid eyes on you. 

You took a step forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist “Sorry I’m late.”

He chucked as he returned your embrace, sturdy arms enveloping you. “No worries, I’m always happy to wait.” 

The statement was true. Way too true, and that fact started to scare him.

You leaned up to press your lips against his, he was soft, familiar, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. He held the door open for you to step inside, the scent of his earthy cologne filled your senses. 

He followed you into the living room, watching you kick off your shoes, holding his arm out just in case you toppled over. He had made that mistake only once in the past, the bruise on your leg was huge. You’re clumsy nature may have been endearing, but he’ll be damned if you hurt yourself on his watch.  

“You didn’t ride your bike?” He asked, subtly trying to figure out exactly why you had gotten out of the familiar van. 

“I was lucky Eddie offered me a lift. I kind of lost track of time,” you said nonchalantly, kicking your shoes into the corner. 

His posture stiffened for the briefest moment at your confirmation. Honestly, he had hoped that what he saw five minutes earlier was just a figment of his imagination. “Oh, cool,” he forced himself to keep his tone light. “That was nice of him.”

You didn’t notice how fake the plastered smile on his face was as you settled onto the couch, already making yourself at home as you reached for the throw blanket. “So, what’s the plan for tonight hm? Movies? Snacks? Oh, did you order pizza?” You rambled, getting more excited with each question. It put his mind at ease a little bit to see you this giddy with excitement. If he let himself believe that he was the cause, maybe he could stop worrying. 

He beamed and moved to join you, resting his head against the pillows as he glanced down at your pure expression. “All of the above, sweetheart. But we are not repeating what you told me a few weeks ago that eating leftover pizza for breakfast was ‘nutritionally balanced’.”

You giggled as you unfurled the blanket, taking extra care to make sure he was fully covered. “It is balanced! Carbs, protein, maybe a vegetable if there’s a stray pepper.”

“Right,” Steve smirked as he drew out the word, trying to get on board with your reasoning. Reaching over for the remote to turn the movie on. 

As the credits for the cheesy rom-com rolled across the screen, you stretched your stiff body out.  You untucked yourself from his side, resulting in a frown from Steve, not quite ready to let you go yet. 

“I still don’t get why we always watch these,” you speak over the ending soundtrack. “All the girl ever does is swoon over the guy, ignoring all the red flags until it’s too late.”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch, placing his chin on top of it to give you his full attention. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his foot with your own. “Such a romantic.”

Steve blushes before turning away, giving you a casual shrug. “I just like them. Who knows, I could always start serenading you under your window, the whole nine yards.”

“Serenade, huh?” You chuckle, angling your head to lean against his arm. “Do you even know how to play an instrument?”

He drew his face towards you, scrunching his nose in your direction. “I can learn. Get some guitar lessons.”

Maybe you like guitar. Eddie plays the guitar. 

You giggle at the mental image of Steve strumming clumsily, tongue poking out in concentration, getting frustrated with the sheet music that would be scattered around him. “Oh, I’d pay to see that.”

He runs his hand through your hair, admiring your soft features illuminated by only the TV screen. “You wouldn’t have to pay. If you wanted it, I’d do it for free.”

He meant every word. If it kept you in his life, he would practise until his fingers bled. 

“Has anyone told you how much of a sap you are?” You ask, but it lacks its usual teasing. 

“Yeah, but I’m your sap,” he replies, words overflowing with tenderness. 

You look at him closely. Really look at him. His loving smile falters slightly under your gaze, eyes flickering downwards to hide his expression more. 

Shifting towards him, you lay a hand across his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart quicken at your touch. “What’s wrong?”

Steve blinks, another smile forced, not quite reaching his eyes. God, why did you have to ask it like that? In a sweet tone, filled with concern. He thought he was good at lying. All those secret parties he held in his parent’s absence, brushing off their questions about various missing decorations that most likely had been broken. Nobody noticed when his heart was broken a few years back. When he could hardly drag himself to work. But somehow, you could pick him apart easily. 

“Nothing,” he lies, trying to brush you off. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

He sighs, his fingers tracing an aimless pattern on your shoulder as he avoids looking at you. “Just…us, I guess. Wondering if I’m actually good at this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing or if you’re just humouring me.”

The confession made him feel exposed. He regretted saying anything at all. 

You frown at his admission, “What? Why would you think that?” You can’t hide the shock from your voice. This is the same boy who kept your favourite tea stocked in his cupboard, the same boy who built your entire bookcase when you mentioned you were struggling with the instructions, the same boy who even phoned the doctor’s office for you when you were too scared to talk to the receptionist.  

He ticked every box and more, your heart broke for how he felt. 

“I don’t know…Sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna screw this up. Like, if I’m just temporary.” His eyes are still glued to his lap, unable to look away. If only he didn’t have this much baggage. 

You furrow your brows, reaching up to cup his cheek, tilting his head so he’s forced to meet your eyes. “Steve, you’re not temporary. Okay? You’re not some placeholder to me.”

He leans into your touch, his hand covering yours for a moment. But even though he smiles softly at your words, the doubt still lingers in his eyes.

“I guess we’ll see,” he murmurs, the vulnerability heavy in his voice.

You sigh, realising this is a result of something more going on, but you still give him a gentle look. You have no problem reassuring him. You could tell him one hundred times how cherished he is without complaint. As many times as it took to make the message stick. If that’s what it took, you would gladly do it. 

Steve was buzzing as soon as he got off the phone with Kieth. His presence at the video store was not required today, and he had been planning how to surprise you all morning. Acting as giddy as a high schooler. He hadn’t had the chance to see you since you last hung out at his place and he really wanted to do something sweet. Not out of the lingering insecurity he was feeling, but he wanted to see you happy. Especially when it was because of him. 

He tried to go the extra mile today, waking up early and driving to the nice florist on the other side of town, just to make sure he got the freshest flowers. A little effort from him means a big smile from you—totally worth it in his book. The bouquet was huge, it sat in your usual place, in the passenger seat. He specifically chose your favourite colour as the wrapping paper, and the bow that secured it too. Smiling to himself as he pictured your reaction. 

Climbing the steps to your little apartment, something you were so excited to finally be able to afford with your job, his heart beat with anticipation. He easily fished out the spare key you had given him, smiling as the tiny keychain dangled from it—a tiny VHS tape you had been so proud to find at the flea market, insisting on putting it on yourself because it ‘needed some flair’. It was a thoughtful gesture, it made him feel warm whenever he saw it. 

Holding his breath to not make any noise, he unlocked your door and gently pushed it open, careful not to startle you. His eyes immediately landed on the couch—and his whole world froze. 

There, sprawled out on the couch, was none other than Eddie Munson. Looking the same as he always did, completely relaxed In his worn Metalica t-shirt and scuffed trainers. 

The worst part wasn’t just him. It was you. Your head resting in his lap, and Eddie was absently playing with a strand of your hair. He glanced up at Steve’s entrance and immediately put a finger to his lips, signalling Steve to stay quiet. His blood boiled at the gesture. 

“Shh,” Eddie whispered, gesturing to you. “She’s asleep.”

He was glued to the spot. What the fuck is he doing here?

Eddie carefully lifted your head off his legs, swapping himself out for a pillow, taking extra care not to rouse you. 

“Hey, man,” he greeted casually as he stood, stretching out his arms like this wasn’t the single most infuriating sight Steve had ever seen. “We were just hanging out, watching some trash TV. She was out like a light.”

His voice was still a whisper as he explained what happened, trying to add some humour to the situation. “Probably for the best, I mean. I can watch crappy shit all day, but even this was painful to sit through. No big deal.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. Hard. His grip on the flowers tightened until he could feel a few give way under the pressure. No big deal? You’ve got to be kidding me. He felt a surge of possessiveness course through him, igniting an anger he believed was dormant. His mind began to race, everything he had been trying to ignore had bubbled straight back up to the surface like a ticking time bomb. She is that comfortable to fall asleep on him?!

Eddie, completely oblivious to Steve’s thinly veiled fury, patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, but I gotta be heading myself. Wayne’ll be wondering where I’ve been.” He said, giving him a small smile as if this was a totally normal situation for the two of you. “Take care, man.” With that, Eddie slipped past him, closing the door silently as he exited. 

The apartment felt eerily quiet as Steve just stood there, staring at the door, trying to wrap his head around what the hell just happened. Unbelievable. He rediverted his attention back to you, still soundly asleep on the couch, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside of him. He crossed the room slowly, as if on autopilot, mind a nasty mix of anger and jealousy. You fell asleep on Eddie. Eddie, of all people. How long were you two just... sitting there like that?

He took a seat in the armchair opposite, memories of the two of you trying to squeeze onto it now bitterly replaying in his mind. The flowers were still clutched in his hand, forgotten in his flood of emotions.

He didn’t want to acknowledge what he had just walked in on. His heart beat painfully in his chest. This is how it starts, right? He thought bitterly. Starts all innocent like this. I’ve seen this before. I’ve lived this before. His mind flashed back to that goddamn Halloween party, to the nights he thought things were fine, only to realise too late that he had been left behind—again.

Steve exhaled sharply, frustration gnawing at him. It’s happening. It’s fucking happening again. He was always second best. His parents, Nancy, Dustin, you. 

He glanced down at the flowers in his hand, the stems crushed from his tense grip. They were supposed to be part of a sweet surprise, a way to make you smile, but now... now they just felt like a cruel joke. With him being the punchline. As per usual.

He set them down on the coffee table and leaned backwards, his gaze locked on your peaceful sleeping form, his mind a mess. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. He was fuming—so mad he could barely think straight.

The room was in complete silence as you began to stir awake, reaching your arms above your head lazily. You blinked a few times as you returned to reality, the soft haze of sleep still lingering. You heard your back pop and you groaned at the sensation, falling asleep on the couch had been a terrible idea. 

You let out a brief yawn and look around for Eddie, but instead, your eyes land on your boyfriend. He sat across from you, arms crossed tensely, his expression neutral. He wasn’t smiling, which was odd for him. In fact, he looked angry. 

“When did you get here?” Your forehead crinkled in confusion, voice still raspy with sleep as you asked. “Where did Eddie go?”

Steve shifted in the chair, leaning back and spreading his legs further apart. “Eddie left a while ago,” he snapped, his tone was sharp and clipped. “I got the day off work.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” your brain still trying to piece the information together. “You should have called.”

He scoffed as he shook his head, a lock of brown hair escaping to rest against his forehead. “Yeah, well. I wasn’t aware you had other plans.”

You sat up straighter on the couch, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. His tone—he never spoke to you like that. It sounded frustrated, irritated. Like you had done something wrong. You wracked your brain trying to think of anything that would have upset him, eventually coming up short. Eddie’s presence here didn’t even pass through your mind, there is no way Steve would be that possessive. Could he?

“Steve…what’s wrong?” You asked cautiously, concern creeping into your voice. “Why are you mad?”

His brown eyes darkened, his face twisting with an expression you had never seen before. All the insecurity he had been feeling, all the unresolved emotions, came crashing to the surface in a wave of anger. It was frightening. He was frightening you. 

“You wanna know what’s wrong?” He barked out a laugh, one that was filled with no humour. “I come over here, thinking I’m gonna surprise my girlfriend. But instead? I find her asleep on the town freak.”

Your heart sank. He spat the words out as if they tasted vile on his tongue. You never knew that he could be this vicious, the foul name that just spewed from his lips made your throat tighten. “Steve, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his voice bitter as he continued. “You think I’m stupid? Like I don’t see what’s going on here? You and Eddie. He’s always around, and suddenly, you’re all buddy-buddy with him, falling asleep on his lap like it’s no big deal. I mean—Jesus, sweetheart—how dense do you think I am?”

“Steve, it wasn’t like that,” your voice broke as you struggled to speak. The nickname that had always been filled with such love was now venomous, you struggled to understand what was happening. Why he wasn’t listening? Why wasn’t he trusting you?

“We were just hanging out, watching TV—“

“Oh yeah? Just watching TV? Sure,” Steve spat, getting up to start pacing, the adrenaline coursing through his body was too much. His mind was racing, old memories resurfacing, ones that he would rather not think about only helped fuel his rage. He turned back to you, eyes wild with fury.

“Moved on pretty quick, huh?” He ran a hand over his face, voice dripping with resentment. “I mean, I gotta hand it to you, honey. But you could have tried a little harder before the secret spilt out eventually.”

Tears formed in your waterline as you tried your best not to let them fall. “How could you say that?” You took in a shaky breath. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Oh, don’t do that,” he pointed a finger at you. “Don’t act all innocent here. I’ve seen this shit before, okay? Little things that aren’t that little. Don’t play dumb, it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not!” You protested, not caring about the tears that now flowed freely down your cheeks. “I love you, Steve. Please. Eddie is just a friend.”

He rolled his eyes, your pleading falling on deaf ears. “Yeah, ‘just a friend’,” he muttered hostilely. “Sure.”

His words cut deep, and you felt yourself crumble under the weight of them. You began to panic as you realised there was no way out of this. Not when he was so dead set on believing what he wanted. You could only stare back at him in disbelief, heart breaking at how trivial this argument is. 

“I thought you left this high school crap behind you,” you whispered, scared and unsure of how he would react. 

“Yeah, well, some things never change.” He shot back, his tongue still as fast as it had been back then. He mentioned how he was in school a few times in the past, but now you could really see it. The petty boy who would say anything in the heat of the moment. The boy who could pick the thing that would hurt the most. 

The room fell into a heavy silence, staring at one another, the distance between you growing more and more with each passing second. You could barely recognise the man standing only a few feet away. You wanted to reach out to him, plead with him to just stop. Go back to being Steve. Your Steve. 

“I can’t believe what you’re saying,” you managed to choke out, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper. “You’re hurting me.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, a brief flash of guilt flickered across his face at the sight of your tears. His beautiful girl was torn apart by what he was insinuating. But he was too far gone. His misplaced anger was the only thing he could feel right now, pushing him further. “Yeah well, now you know how that feels.”

A sob wracked through your body, his statement feeling like a dagger to your chest. He made his way towards the door to leave, his gaze landed on the stack of VHS tapes by the TV. He knew he should walk away, but a petty bitterness surged through him. He could never resist getting one final jab in. 

“Make sure you return those by the weekend. Late fees now apply, sweetheart.” He sneered, lips turning into a snarl. 

With that, he tossed the flowers he’d brought for you onto the table, the delicate petals now scattered across it. You stared at them, your vision blurred by your tears as Steve stormed out of your apartment. He slammed the door sharply as he left, making you flinch. 

As soon as he was gone, you collapsed onto the couch, finally allowing yourself to cry uncontrollably. You didn’t understand how everything had spiralled so fast. How the man who was so sweet, so kind, had turned into this.

On the other side of the door, Steve’s heart was racing, pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. He leaned against the wall for a moment and shut his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control as the rage he felt dissipated. 

He wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty, not over this. He didn’t jump to conclusions, not when the signs were so clear to him. 

He stumbled down the stairs and got into his car, foot pressing down hard on the accelerator as he drove away. Each mile felt heavier than the last. He couldn’t allow himself to question what he had said, besides, it was too late to take it all back now. What he couldn’t answer was why he felt so much more empty as he pulled up to his house. Alone. 

Steve pushed open the door to Family Video, the small bell above him chiming as he trudged inside. It felt like it was mocking him, only adding to his sour mood. He was fifteen minutes late, something that never went unnoticed by Robin.

His eyes looked and felt drained, dark circles framing his eyes from his obvious lack of sleep. The night before had been hell. All he had done was toss and turn, replaying the argument with you over and over again in his head until he was sick of it. His chest ached from all the emotions that were still swirling inside of him. Anger, sadness, and a terrifying amount of regret that he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

Robin was at the counter, tapping away at the computer when she saw him walk in. Her face lit up, clearly excited to spill something. “There you are! You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you. I saw Vicky at the movies yesterday and—“

“Rob, I’m really not in the mood today.” He interrupted her, rubbing a hand over his brows. 

The girl froze, her face contorting with confusion. Usually, Steve lived for gossip like this. In fact, he almost always begged for it.

“Wait…what? You were off yesterday. Shouldn’t you be, like, all refreshed or something? What, did you party too hard without me?”

He shot her a glare, making it crystal clear that something was wrong. Of course, being ever curious, Robin was not going to let this slide. 

“Oh, no. Spill it, Harrington.” She began, leaving the computer to follow his quick steps. “You come in late, looking like shit, and now you’re all moody? Did something happen yesterday?”

Steve sighed, running a hand through his messy hair he hadn’t even bothered to brush. Not willing to humour her at all today. “Robin, please—”

“Please what? I’m not gonna stop asking. C’mon, let it out. I’m all ears. I’ll even sit down for this one.” She says dramatically as she hops up onto the counter, crossing her legs, glancing at him expectantly as if she had all the time in the world. 

Steve groaned loudly. “Fine, fine. You want to know what happened?” He said, exasperated.  “I walked in yesterday, excited to surprise my girl, and guess what I saw? Eddie. Like, she had her head in his lap and everything. They were all over each other. It was disgusting.”

Robin scrunched her eyebrows as she processed his words. “Eddie? The Eddie Munson?” She squinted, looking even more confused. “Are we talking about the same Eddie here? The one who’s completely obsessed with Chrissy Cunningham? I mean, he’s had it bad for her for years. That Eddie?”

“What? Chrissy?” Steve frowned, pausing as her words sank in. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Robin tilted her head at him like he was an idiot. Which she would say was most of the time. “Uh, yeah? He’s been pining after her for, like, ever. He never had the guts to ask her out. Everyone knows that.”

She carried on talking as if this was common knowledge, which maybe it was. The knowledge was just not that common to Steve, apparently. “So Eddie’s into your girl now? Are you sure about that?”

He felt his stomach drop, trying to ignore the rising panic in his chest. “I mean… yeah. Pretty sure? He was, like, touching her and they were—“ He stopped halfway through his sentence, doubt now taking over. 

Was that really all he saw? Surely not. He couldn’t have gotten so mad about just that, there had to be more. Only, nothing really came to mind. 

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Touching her, huh? And that exactly happened? No skipping details.”

Steve scratched the back of his head as he tried to recall the events from the evening prior, his anxiety continued to grow as he spoke. “I saw him drop her off at my place the other day. She got out of his van, and they looked all… close. Then, when I went to her apartment earlier, I walk in, and there she is, asleep across his lap.”

Robin took a second to process what he was saying, speaking slowly as she tried to wrap her head around the situation. “So… you’re mad because she fell asleep with him on the couch? While watching TV? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat, immediately getting defensive, trying to prove that he wasn’t just overreacting. “Well, yeah, but it’s the way she was with him. It was just too… cosy.”

She could not believe what she was hearing as she stared at the boy blankly. “Dude, we do that stuff all the time. Like, every movie night.”

Steve's stomach twisted. He felt sick. “Yeah, but…that’s different. This is—” He couldn’t continue. There was no solid ground for him to stand on. The knowledge of that was overwhelming. Fuck. 

Robin narrowed her eyes, still determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. “Okay, I still don’t get it. What did you do?”

He shifted uncomfortably at her questions, his guilt was building inside of him as the true terror set in. “I, uh… I may have been a complete asshole.”

Her eyes widened at the admission. “Define ‘complete asshole.’”

Steve’s hands shook as he brought them up to his forehead, slightly damp from his growing fear. “I called Eddie the ‘town freak’—fuck—and I—“ He paused and took a breath in, the consequences of his insecurities now coming into the light. “I told her we were over basically…she asked me to stop hurting her.”

Robin’s jaw dropped, feeling outraged at the way her best friend had acted. That was not something she could ever stand beside, no matter how close they were. “You what? Steve, that's fucking insane! I can’t believe you drove her to the point of even having to say that!”

The world seemed distorted as Steve became short of breath, he had to rest a hand on the counter to keep himself steady, the tight grip becoming painful. “I don’t know! I just—it all came out. I couldn’t stop myself—shit. What—what do I do?”

Robin started at him, completely stunned and equally irked. “Steve,” she said, the stern tone felt foreign on her tongue. “This is not just ‘I messed up a little’—you blew it, dude.”

He was breathing faster now, mouth barren, limbs turning slightly numb. The panic had now set in fully. “No, no, no. Don’t say that. I can fix it, right? I always fix it. I have to fix it, Robin. Please, help me fix it!” His voice increased as he got the words out, hands trembling in front of him. 

She looked at him, she was no less annoyed, but she couldn’t help but pity her friend. Especially when he looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown like this. He was a wreck right now and needed someone. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll help you,” Steve sighed in relief, however, she wasn’t finished. “But I’m seriously not happy about any of this. If she doesn’t take you back, you have to deal with it, Steve. This is on you.”

Steve nodded frantically, hair flying everywhere as he clung to the small sliver of hope. “Anything. I’ll do anything. I can’t lose her, Robin. I just… I can’t”

She folded her arms, her face remaining stoic to show her displeasure with him. “Alright. We will think of something, and you better pray to God she hears you out. You have got a lot of sucking up to do Harrington.”

He muttered quiet a thank you, his heart not slowing down. He couldn’t afford to lose you, not over this, not because of his own self-doubt. Please, he thought to himself. Please for the love of God don’t let her leave me.

For ten long minutes, Steve had been standing outside your apartment, heart hammering in his chest as he stared at the shut door. Ten agonising minutes of him just waiting, stalling, trying to muster up the courage to raise his hand and just knock. He could have used the spare key that was burning a hole in his back pocket, but that wouldn’t be right. Not after what he did. He had to do this the right way if he had any chance of forgiveness. This wasn’t a situation that could be fixed with flowers or chocolates. He had spoken to Robin for the whole of yesterday, and they both agreed—he needed to own up to everything that transpired, to apologise, even if it was hard. Even if it was terrifying. 

Because losing you? That wasn’t an option. 

With a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the solid wood. The second he made contact with the door, his stomach flipped. He wanted to run. To turn around and bolt. But he couldn’t. Not this time. He had too much to lose—you. The sweet, kind girl who had always made him feel seen, made him feel held. How could he walk away from that without trying? 

It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, the sight of you nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs. You’d been crying, that much was obvious. Your eyes were red, puffy, and filled with the hurt that he had caused. If that wasn’t enough to crush him, you were clad in one of his old hoodies—one he’d left at your place months ago. Seeing you wrapped up in something of his twisted the knife so deep that he nearly staggered back before he caught himself. 

You immediately moved to shut the door, not willing to let him hurt you more, but Steve panicked. “Please, please, angel don’t,” his voice cracked as he begged to be let in, his hand pushing lightly against the door, so desperate to keep it open. Desperate to not be shut out before he could even try to say sorry. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

You paused, removing your hand and gently taking a step away from the entrance. You crossed your arms as you looked at him, still visibly upset, your voice sharp but exhausted. The tone pulled at his chest. “You’ve got five minutes Steve. Then I want you out of here.”

He nodded eagerly, grateful for a chance, no matter how slim. “Of course, anything…I’ll take anything. Just…please.”

You let him in, both stepping further into the flat, his eyes immediately locked onto the sight of the coffee table. The flowers he picked up yesterday were still sitting there—petals scattered everywhere, beginning to dry up and wilt. 

You couldn’t bear to touch them after he tossed them there the day before, you had hardly left your bedroom due to their presence. A brutal reminder of what happened. He felt sick to his stomach with the knowledge of how badly he hurt you. How you couldn’t even deal with the ruined gift because they were tied to him. To the things he said. 

You fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie, now feeling embarrassed while wearing it, nervous as to what he could possibly say to make this right. If he even wanted to make it right. You honestly didn’t know. 

He turned to you, words catching in his throat as he tried to figure out where to even start with this. He had gone over this with Robin multiple times yesterday, but the sight of you completely threw him. 

“I—I’m sorry, angel,” he stammered, that was a good place to start, his voice as rough as he continued. “I’m so, so sorry. For everything. For not thinking. For not believing you. For… for making you cry. I didn’t mean to—I swear, I didn’t.”

You stood firm, arms not moving from their crossed position. You weren’t giving in easily, not this time. You had every single right to be upset. Steve has frightened you. He was mean and spiteful, lashing out at you instead of listening. His jealousy was ugly. 

He fumbled for more words, his hands beginning to shake. “I…I was an asshole, I hate that I hurt you. I just…I freaked out, okay? I thought—“ He stopped, swallowing thickly as his emotions threatened to choke him fully. “I thought I was going to lose you. Like…like I lost Nancy.”

Your expression shifted slightly, but you remained silent, allowing him to continue. 

His voice grew quieter, more pained. “Halloween, a few years back, Nancy told me I was just…bullshit. Jonathan swept in after that. And when I saw you with Eddie—fuck—I just—” He ran a hand through his brown hair, pulling harder at the ends as his frustration grew. “Eddie’s already got Dustin. He’s…he’s got everything. And I thought he’d take you too. And I just…I panicked. I know it’s stupid, okay? I was just—“

He was rambling now and he knew it, the words were tumbling out faster than he could stop them. He only had five minutes, he needed you to understand. To please understand him. 

“I was so fucking scared, honey. I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and realise that I’m bullshit. That you’ll find someone better. Someone who isn’t…who isn’t me.” His voice cracked again at his attempt to hold back the tears that clouded his vision. 

You let out a small sigh, your expression wary. You couldn’t let your guard down, not yet at least. 

“Steve…what happened yesterday was not okay. You hurt me. A lot.”

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice barely louder than a breath. “I know I did, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. I swear, I’ll be better. I’ll be so much better—if you’ll let me. You deserve everything, sweetheart. A-and I’ll give it to you, I promise. Just…please. Please let me prove that.”

Steve’s voice broke as the overwhelming dread overflowed, what had once been a gentle simmering below the surface now coursed through his entire body. No, he thought, It’s not working. It’s not fucking working.

His hands were quivering uncontrollably, his vision blurred as his thoughts spiralled. Everything was crashing down around him—the fear, the memories, the guilt. 

He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t lose you. Not you. 

“I—I can’t,” Steve stammered, his words short as they came out in small gasps. He backed up slightly, he didn’t know if he was scared of your presence or himself at this point. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m so—so fucking scared, I—“ 

His hands flew to his face in a weak attempt to hold himself together, his breath coming out in frantic bursts. His whole body shook involuntarily. Nancy, his parents, the same gut-wrenching feeling of being told he wasn’t enough. Wasn’t loved. That he was unimportant. Just temporary. 

You were stuck, rooted to where you stood, watching him unravel. And in that moment, you didn’t know what to do. The Steve you knew so well—the confident, charming, self-assured Steve—was crumbling before your eyes, his fear felt so raw, so overwhelming that it broke your heart to witness it. 

“Steve,” you say softly, moving towards him, but he couldn’t hear you. Not over his own mind. He was too far gone. 

“I can’t—fuck, I—“ His broad chest heaved as he tried to suck in air, but it seemed to do little to help. His hands shook violently, gripping at his tousled hair as he slid down to the floor, his back against the wall. “I’m gonna lose you, angel. I know it, and I can’t—I can’t do that again.”

“Steve,” you repeat, voice more forceful this time as you drop to your knees beside him. You reached out to him slowly, so as to not startle him, taking his unsteady hands in your own. “Breathe. Just…breathe with me, okay?”

He was trembling so much that it scared you, even more than he had yesterday. His breaths were coming out shallow and erratic, your heart ached to see him like this—so broken, so scared. 

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You kept your voice soft, soothing as you held onto him, your thumbs tracing small circles on his skin. You began to understand. “You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The skin around his eyes was pulled taught as he squeezed them shut, he tried to follow your lead, match your breathing with his own, using it as a guide. “Just breathe, okay?” You repeated, you held your voice steady until his ragged breaths began to slow, becoming deeper and more even. 

It took a few minutes to get his trembling to ease, fingers still tracing gentle patterns, reminding him of your presence. His grip eventually loosened, but never wavered, he clung onto you like a lifeline. His head hung low as he tried to pull himself back together. 

You watched his chest as you knelt beside him, it rose and fell more calmly compared to a few moments ago. His large brown eyes flickered open as they focused on you. Red and glassy, filled with fear as he looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“I’m so so sorry,” he spoke in a muted tone, barely audible as he turned his attention to your intertwined hands. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just… I didn’t know what to do. I—I needed to hurt you before you hurt me.”

Your stomach was in knots at the sight of him so vulnerable. Posture hunched over as if he wanted to disappear into himself. It broke your heart to witness. You squeezed his hands gently as you leaned closer to him. 

“Steve, listen to me,” you tell him. His eyes lifted to meet yours, amber and swirling with uncertainty. “I’m not going anywhere. But you have to talk to me, okay? If something is bothering you. If you’re feeling scared, you have to tell me. You can’t just take it out on me. It’s not fair.”

He shook his head and sniffed, rubbing his hand roughly against his eyes, trying to brush away the tears. “I don’t want to push you away,” he muttered, voice no longer as shakey. He felt his mind settle as the words flowed out of his mouth more comfortably. 

“I just… I don’t know how to do this,” he gestured between the two of you. “I’ve never been good at… at the talking stuff.”

For the first time today, you allowed a smile to play on your lips as you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “I kinda got that,” you tell him. “You don’t have to be perfect. I just need you to be able to come to me, talk to me. Get out of your head. I’m always here.”

You tapped his forehead twice for emphasis as he exhaled slowly. The tension in his body had finally been released as he slumped against the wall. He brought both of your hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, swallowing hard as he returned them to his lap. “Don’t deserve you, angel.”

Leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his own, closing your eyes as you speak. “You deserve someone who cares,” you tell him as you pull back, eyes shining with pure honesty which soothes his shot nerves. “And I do. So, just…trust me. Even if it's hard sometimes.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t, sweetheart. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, looking at him with the tenderness he never thought he would see again. “You don’t have to apologise anymore.”

He nodded once more, your forgiveness was finally sinking into him, pushing the last bit of panic out of his system. He opened his arms, asking you silently if it was alright to hold you once more. 

You shifted yourself between his legs, allowing his arms to pull you into a tight embrace, bringing you close as if you might disappear again. Slip through his fingers if he let you go. 

You rested your head against his chest, tucked up tightly as his chin rested on your hair. You could feel his heart beat at a more steady pace. You placed your palm over it. It belonged to you after all. 

“I love you, you know that?” He asked as he held you against him, anchoring himself to you. 

“I know,” you respond, words slightly muffled by his jumper. “I love you too.”

You pull away slightly, meeting his eyes once more. The heaviness from the previous conversation had lifted, feeling relief flow through you as the warmth returned to Steve’s face. He wasn’t completely at ease, still very much shaken, but he could see a light at the end of the tunnel. The worst was behind him. And he promised it would only be up from here. 

“So tell me,” you began. You knew you needed to steer the conversation in a more light-hearted direction, not just for yourself, but for the boy whose lap you were in. “Was Robin mad?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Steve groaned as his head hit the wall behind him. At least he could walk into work with a smile on his face tomorrow. Tell her that he made it right…but maybe leave out the whole hysterical crying part. “She was ready to rip my head off after I told her what happened.”

“Oh, really?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled. “Good to know she has my back.”

“Guess I’m outnumbered,” Steve allowed himself to laugh, and God did it feel good to do it with you.

“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t listen.”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough,” he winced, but managed to maintain a grin. “I think I’ll survive her wrath…maybe.”

“Maybe,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Gonna have to put in some work there then.”

“I am prepared to do whatever it takes,” he tells you with mock seriousness. “Even offer to be her wingman with Vickie.”

“Wow, generous,” you snorted. It would probably benefit him more, if you were being honest. He had been nagging her to make a move for months, her constant pining and inaction was starting to get to him. He had been giving her the same advice over and over. It was getting ridiculous. His words, not yours. 

“And, hey, maybe I’ll give Munson a chance too,” he tells you, glancing down with a playful expression. “Join Hellfire, see what all the fuss is about.”

The laugh that escaped you was loud, you shook your head at him. “Steve, you would be terrible and D&D.”

“Hey, I’m good at strategy!” He protested, not allowing himself to be insulted in this manner. “I’d make a great…uh, whatever they call the fighter guy.”

“You mean a barbarian?” You say teasingly. “I could see you as more of a chotic bard. Always trying to talk yourself out of trouble.”

“Yeah? You never know, I could surprise you,” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your hairline. “For now though, I think I’ll focus on not screwing things up again.”

Your heart fluttered as you melted into him, securing your arms around his wide shoulders. “You’re on the right track, Harrington”

“Good,” he smiled at the nickname, placing his hand on your arm, the other on your back. “I don’t plan on going anywhere. And neither are you if I can help it.”

“Deal,” you say with a firm nod of your head. “No more freakouts, okay?”

He looked over your face once more, relieved that there were no more visible traces of the pain he had caused. Just his sweet girl smiling at him. Just the way he liked it. 

"I'll try my best," Steve whispered, holding you close. "I promise."

[widow-tarot]

MINI PAC READING: What Would They Tell You If They Could? (Romance)

GROUPS: 1 - 2 - 3 4 - 5 - 6

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Instruction: Think about your person while choosing a group. Do not use more than 1 group for one person. Just to remind you, this is only for entertainment purposes.

If you don't feel drawn to any group, then this reading is not for you.

GROUP 1

Cards: Ace of Wands, Knight of Wands rx, Wheel of Fortune rx, I Like You, Girl Talk rx, Pond, Archangel Metatron.

I like you. I know it's straightforward, but I cannot say it in any other way that's more meaningful or more direct. It might not sound meaningful but it is to me (I hope it is to you too). I feel there is a spiritual connection between us and it seems no matter what, we keep coming back to each other. Our connection is like a pond; can be insignificant to others but to us, it holds so much life and secrets but it can easily be destroyed if not cultivated. We are so hot and cold; we like each other, then we hate each other over something trivial (we both don't know what exactly annoyed us). I want to move towards you but things are holding me back. There's so much I want to do and say but I'm standing still. I know we will truly come together someday. No one knows about it because I don't share those feelings with friends. It seems too private and sacred.

SONGS:

Eric by Mitski ("Take off my clothes and watch me move; You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me; But how long, how long can we play this way?; I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you"

Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey ("Ours a love I held tightly; Feeling the rapture grow; Like a flame burning brightly; But when she left; Gone was the glow")

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex ("Whispered something in your ear; It was a perverted thing to say; But I said it anyway; Made you smile and look away; Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby; As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine")

GROUP 2

Cards: 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Noose rx, Mushrooms, The Snake, Hammer rx, Seraphim Seraphisa rx.

You will forever be in my heart and mind, but we can never be together in the way we want. There are way too many blockages and I do think we are not fit to be in a relationship. I am in a committed relationship (or you are) and I do not wish to leave her for I love her. Maybe I am a coward, but I am a practical and cautious one. I will not take reckless actions just to wake up one day and regret it. I think what we have is a fantasy, pleasant make-believe, daydreaming. However, I don't want you gone because you're an important person to me. I wish you happiness but I can't follow you.

SONGS:

Lonesome Love by Mitski ("I call you, to see you again; So I can win, and this can finally end")

Blue Banisters by Lana Del Rey ("She said, "You can't be a muse and be happy, too; You can't blacken the pages with Russian poetry and be happy"; And that scared me; 'Cause I met a man who said he'd come back every May;Just to help me if I'd paint; Now when weather turns to May; All my sisters come to paint")

Flash by Cigarettes After Sex ("I'm a flash; You were blinded by the love I had; I'm a flash; The light could only get in through the cracks")

GROUP 3

Cards: The Hierophant rx, 8 of Wands, The Devil, 10 of Swords rx, Wildflowers, Mirror, Keys on a Ring, Archangel Raphael.

You are the temptation, the chaos in my life, the wildflowers that can still be growing but can also be already taken by someone else while I wasn't looking. You're untouchable, unable to be caught, translucent. One minute you're here only to leave seconds later just to come back and stay for a long time. You're unpredictable, a sin worth sinning for. But I hate to be alone and you make me sad. I love to see you but I hate myself when you leave. I don't know if you have any feelings for me; is it something serious or is it just casual and convenient? I can't do this anymore, I'm trapped and I feel miserable. I wish I could tell you to stay away, to abandon me, to never come back. It would be easier for me to move on then but I am a fool for you. I wish I was strong enough to talk things through but I'd rather have some of you than none of you. Then again, being with you hurts me so what should I do?

SONGS:

Should've Been Me by Mitski ("Relive all the ways you still want me; I haven't given you what you need; You wanted me but couldn't reach me; I'm sorry it should've been me"

Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey ("I will love you till the end of time; I would wait a million years; Promise you'll remember that you're mine; Baby, can you see through the tears?; You went out every night; And, baby, that's alright; But when you walked out that door; A piece of me died")

Ambien Slide by Cigarettes After Sex ("Take my love with some pretend; You said you couldn't help it; Had everything that you wanted; When my love was something yours; But now you're feeling helpless")

GROUP 4

Cards: Death, Page of Pentacles rx, The Chariot rx, Archangel Sammael, Eileen Chang rx, Boat rx, Engagement Ring rx.

I don't want to try to fix this thing between us anymore, it's a fool's errand. We tried and it didn't work, it's time to move on to something else because we are just wasting our time and I'm exhausted. Let me go. Let me leave, peacefully. I don't want to fight but I'm frustrated. I think we tried to escape the inevitable but at the end of the road, we cannot pretend any longer. Relieve me of this burden and don't resent me.

SONGS:

Working For The Knife by Mitski ("I always thought the choice was mine; And I was right, but I just chose wrong")

Bel Air by Lana Del Rey ("Gargoyles standing at the front of your gate; Trying to tell me to wait; But I can't wait to see you; So I run, like I'm mad, to heaven's door; I don't wanna be bad; I won't cheat you no more")

Tejano Blue by Cigarettes After Sex ("We wanted to fuck with real love; Wanted it sweet, so pure and warm; And when you say you want it all, I know you want it all; Baby, take it all from me; I always will make it feel like you were the last one; So get in the waves like it was the first time")

GROUP 5

Cards: The Star rx, 7 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords rx, Glove rx, The Phoenix, Paradise rx, Archangel Haniel.

I wish we could start anew, without any bitter history between us that holds us back and clouds our judgment. We cannot fully be together while all these thoughts are troubling us, making us suspicious of each other and insecure. I know we both lost hope for this connection, yet we are still going and proceeding with it in any way we can. We don't want this to be over but we need to find a solution. I want you in my life and I'm willing to put work into it. Are you? Someone needs to make the first step though and it's the most difficult thing to do. We cannot stay still for much longer though. We communicate telepathically but we also have to communicate in real life.

SONGS:

First Love/Late Spring by Mitski ("Please hurry leave me; I can't breathe; Please don't say you love me; One word from you and I would; Jump off of this ledge I'm on; Tell me "don't" so I can crawl back in")

Video Games by Lana Del Rey ("It's you, it's you, it's all for you; Everything I do; I tell you all the time; Heaven is a place on earth with you; Tell me all the things you wanna do; It's better than I ever even knew; They say that the world was built for two; Only worth living if somebody is loving you")

Goodbye Mr Blue by Father John Misty (" But maybe if he'd gone sooner; Could've brought us back together last June; When the last time was our last time; If only then I knew; The last time was our last time; Would've told you that the last time comes too soon")

GROUP 6

Cards: Page of Swords rx, 9 of Cups rx, 4 of Swords, Sappho, Archangel Chamuel, Cupid's Arrow rx, Separation rx.

Do you love me? You say you do why does your love cause so much pain? Why am I in agony instead of being elated and happy? Is this how you show your love? I feel neglected and manipulated. I feel ignored and mocked. Am I your partner or your pet? Do you even care what I want? Do you care what I have to say? You treat me as a child as if I cannot think or decide for myself. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think so lowly of me? When you're not here, I don't miss you and my mind is at ease. I lost all hope for anything to change. It hurts even more because I love you, but your love is weird and dysfunctional. I feel trapped. I even stopped speaking my mind because it was met with ridicule and anger.

SONGS:

Wife by Mitski ("For if I am not yours, what am I?; I daydream I'd give one a name of my own; For even I am on loan; For even mine is unknown; So let me go towards the morning star; With hope it won't disappear;)

Carmen by Lana Del Rey ("Baby's all dressed up, with nowhere to go; That's the little story of the girl you know; Relyin' on the kindness of strangers; Darlin', darlin', doesn't have a problem; Lyin' to herself, 'cause her liquor's top shelf; It's alarmin', honestly, how charmin' she can be; Foolin' everyone, tellin' 'em she's havin' fun")

Hot by Cigarettes After Sex ("Is it all in my head? 'Cause I keep getting scared; That I'll always be lost forever; But I don't give a shit if I'm too delicate; When you hold me, it's always better")

[krirebr]

Luck Be a Lady

Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader

Word Count: ~10.1k

Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?

Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Masterlist

A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂

This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!

And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.

“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”

You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.

Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.

“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”

“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.

The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”

Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 

Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 

As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 

You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 

You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.

“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 

“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.

The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.

You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.

He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”

You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 

“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 

You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???

You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.

“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 

You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.

Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.

You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.

“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”

This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.

Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”

Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.

“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”

“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.

But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.

As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.

You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 

You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”

You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.

The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.

“Bambi?” you ask.

He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.

You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.

You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??

Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.

Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.

And you’re making so much money.

In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.

And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 

And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.

But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.

She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”

You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”

He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”

You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”

“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 

“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.

You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.

Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 

Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”

You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”

Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”

Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”

You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.

At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 

Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.

His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”

You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 

You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.

Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 

It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.

It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.

He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.

“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 

Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.

“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 

Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.

You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?

He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”

“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.

Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.

It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 

You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.

After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.

You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”

A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”

It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”

“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 

He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.

“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 

You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 

“Someone touched you?”

“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”

His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.

You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 

“Tell me who it was.”

“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 

He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”

“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”

“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”

You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.

At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”

Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”

“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 

You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 

He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”

You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 

He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”

You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”

“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”

You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 

Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”

You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 

You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.

The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 

As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”

“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”

“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.

You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 

He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.

Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 

You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.

Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.

You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 

Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”

His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”

“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”

Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”

You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 

You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”

“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”

You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.

He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 

You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.

“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”

Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”

“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 

Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.

Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.

“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”

You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.

You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”

You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 

Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”

Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”

Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?

Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 

The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.

Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”

Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”

Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.

As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”

You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 

While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 

The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.

You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.

Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 

You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.

When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.

You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”

“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.

It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 

He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”

“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 

He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.

“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.

To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”

He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”

 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  

There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.

Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.

You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 

A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.

It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.

It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.

Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.

Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 

You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?

You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.

You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.

Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.

Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.

You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 

You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”

He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.

Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”

“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”

It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.

“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 

It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.

“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”

“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”

He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”

You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”

Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”

His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 

Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.

You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.

He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”

“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.

He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.

He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.

You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”

He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”

You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 

He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 

As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.

“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 

“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 

“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 

He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.

You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 

You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.

You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.

You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.

You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 

As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 

You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.

“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”

You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”

His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”

You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”

“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.

You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”

“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.

“What?”

“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”

Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??

He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”

Tag list

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @midnightramyeoncravings

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The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Part 3

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

(Booth Five)

Summary: After finding out about the seven years Lila and Five spent together, reader walks in to a diner in between all time and space and finds exactly what she didn’t know she was looking for

Warnings: Some cursing, angst

A/N: They’re may be some major grammar errors because I’ve had a massive migraine for several days now but I wanted to get it out as soon as possible ❤️ I hope it’s up to expectations. I had so much fun writing it. This is the last part and then there will be a short epilogue!

Also, Five is still very much alive and dealing with the consequences of his choices. Everything else is left up to interpretation

————

“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet,” Y/N said, holding her hand out for Five to take, “Blink us to the subway.”

“Y/N, what are you-“

“My God, Five, for once in your life would you just do as your told,” she snapped, frustration bleeding from every word, “Blink us to the subway!”

He looked taken aback for a moment before he finally relented, taking her hand and blinking them to the terminal.

She immediately started in the direction she knew the Deli would be in. Five followed her, more than a little confused by her behavior.

He trailed behind her down the stairs but stepped back in surprise when the marquis lights of the deli came in to view.

His steps faltered and he knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, “Max?”

“Max,” she confirmed, “You are, in fact, seeing your name. Come on.”

He followed behind her cautiously but she did not hesitate to open the door of the deli, stepping in like she was a frequent patron of this place in the middle of all of time.

Five instinctively put a hand on the small of her back, ready to protect her if necessary but she inched away from him. She acted like his touch was the equivalent to an white-hot, iron poker. She was also incredibly too comfortable in this new environment.

And he realized why as soon as he was over the threshold. It was like looking in to a shattered mirror. He saw himself all around the room, in various positions as both patron and employees of Max’s deli.

A Five in the middle of the room stood up as soon as he noticed them, a look of sheer surprise on his face. Y/N strolled forward without hesitation and met him half-way. This Five, this him, held out his arms towards her and she fell in to them, welcoming his embrace. All the while his eyes glared over her head, straight in to Five’s skull. If looks could kill.

“What are you doing here?”

“We need your help.” She explained, “Things are going south topside and I figured when it comes to apocalypses, the more Fives, the merrier.”

“I’m sorry, does someone want to explain to me what the actual fuck is going on?” Five interrupted them.

Booth Five bared his teeth, “What’s going on, asshole, is that you left her down here on her own after you fucked-.”

“Hey, no!” Y/N put a hand on his chest to urge him to stop talking, “Come sit down, Five, and we’ll explain.”

She gestured to Booth’s usual table.

“You’re giving him far too much Grace, darling,” Booth growled in her ear as she slid in to the seat beside him, completely ignoring her Five’s pleading eyes as he realized that she was not going to take take the place next to him.

Y/N placed a gentle hand on Booth’s thigh under the table, giving it a soft squeeze in attempt to keep him calm. She didn’t need them going after each other before she even got the first word out.

Booth took that as his cue to move closer to her, closing the small space between them, purposely brushing his thigh against hers. She ignored him, but couldn’t help the goose-bumps that erupted across her skin at his close proximity. It was crazy what reactions he could bring out of her, even with her timeline’s version of him sitting across from them.

Five eyed them, his mouth set in to a hard line like he was trying, with great difficulty, not to say something.

“Explain,” he demanded, “What is going on, Y/N?”

“It’s a waypoint,” she told him, “they’re all you from different timelines.”

Five looked around the deli, taking in all of the different versions of himself. Most of them were lounging, enjoying lunch or a newspaper, while others seemed fresh out of whatever hell their timeline had to offer. A version of him was obviously very drunk, attempting to drown his sorrows in a bottle of something hard.

“How did you even know about this place?”

“I found it when you brought me down here after…everything.” She recalled, “Or more like it found me.”

Waiter Five stopped at the table, sitting two black coffees, two pastrami sandwiches and a cup of tea in front of them.

She smiled up at him, “Could you please tell the kitchen that they’re going to burn the brisket this afternoon and that they should be extra vigilant about it.”

Waiter Five seemed unperturbed by her prophecy, as if he had witnessed them a thousand times. Which she realized, he probably had. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Thanks for the heads up.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You’re not going to like that,” Booth said as Five reached for his cup, pulling a pastrami sandwich towards himself simultaneously.

“Can we stay on track, boys?” Y/N chastised, “We have a lot to figure out.”

Booth launched in to his explanation about how there was never supposed to be multiple timelines. And how their existence was the very problem they’d been trying to solve this entire time.

“When you look ahead, what do you see, Y/N?” Five questioned her.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the various clattering and background noises of the deli, but try as she might she was met with nothing but a solid, unyielding, darkness. She expected it to feel cold or maybe lonely, but it didn’t feel like anything at all. There was nothing there.

“I don’t feel anything,” she concluded, opening her eyes to find two identical, worried faces watching her closely. “I can’t see anything. Usually I can at least gather little glimpses of things I can piece together but it’s dark.”

“If that’s what you’re seeing, then that means my plan will work.”

————

Five bolted out of the deli so swiftly, she didn’t have time for a proper goodbye with Booth.

She was thinking about going back when Five grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks, “What the hell was all of that back there? Is there something going on between you and…me? Him?”

She pulled herself out of his grip, “And why would you care if there was, Five?”

“Because I love you,” his voice cracked, “You know I love you.”

“You didn’t love me enough to not fuck Lila,” her voice wobbled, but she wouldn’t cry. Not over this. Not anymore. “You didn’t love me enough to not fall in love with her too.”

“It was seven years, Y/N. We…we didn’t think we were going to find a way home. We were alone. We were tired. You have to understand that.”

“No, I really don’t,” the anger in her chest flared up once again, red hot and burning, “You spent forty years alone, looking for a way back to your family, and you did everything you could to do so. But you’re telling me that this time you gave up after just seven? I know you, Five, and I know that deep down you always knew that you’d find a way. But you got comfortable with her and you just stopped trying.”

“What’s worse is that I could understand if it were just the three of us mixed up in this mess, but it’s not! Lila is MARRIED! Lila is a MOTHER! Lila is married to your brother and the mother to your nieces and nephew. You drove their marriage apart. You knew you would be breaking up a family and that still didn’t stop you. You weren’t alone anymore, Five. I was there. I’ve been there. I’ve always been there when you needed me and that still wasn’t enough. You aren’t this sad little boy lost alone in the apocalypse anymore. You’re a full-grown, adult man and it’s time that you own up to your mistakes. And this is a big one.”

“So what you’re saying is that I’ll never be able to fix this?” He asked, “You’re never going to forgive me? You won’t even try?”

“How could I, Five?” She took a deep breath, steadying herself, “How could I when all I can see when I think about you, is her? You kissing her. You fucking her. You loving her. And that’ll always be there. It might dull over time but it will always be there playing in the back of my mind. So, no, we can’t fix this and I don’t want to. I won’t put myself through it just to come out the other side burned again. I respect myself too much.”

“And him?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“He’s literally me. It’s very much my business.” Five was trying to sound casual, but she could tell that her words were eating at him. That it stung more than he would ever let on.

“But he’s not you, not really,” she said pointedly, “And he loves me, Five. In a way I’m not sure you ever did. Why else would we spend all of these years together and never actually move forward with our relationship? But none of that matters anyways. If we do this correctly, we’ll be gone and so will every other timeline. We’ll all cease to exist. And maybe that’s for the best.”

They stared at each other for a moment, a silent standoff.

“I do love you, you know,” Five’s voice was barely above a whisper, but his tone shattered her heart all over again, “But I never felt like I deserved you and I’m so sorry that it took me this long to realize that you’re the best thing that could have ever happened to me.”

“I’m sorry that it took you that long, too,” she said, “And I’m sorry that things have to end this way, but they are ending. In more ways than one. And we have to face it whether we’re ready for it or not.”

————

They did it. Not only had they restored things the way they should be, but they had managed to save themselves in the process.

They had lost their powers again, for good this time, but she didn’t care. If she was being truly honest with herself, she never wanted them back anyways. It was nice to look forward to the future without tiny glimpses of what was to come. Glimpses that usually set her on edge and kept her from truly living in the present.

She and Five had gone their separate ways. It was better that way. They both moved out of their shared apartment and she moved in with Allison, Claire and Klaus for a while until she found her footing again. Eventually that footing came in the form of a steady job downtown and a small studio apartment she could call her own.

As for Lila and Diego, they were continuing to try to make things work for their family. Lila had personally come to her and apologized once the dust settled. She told her that she and Diego were now attending couples counseling and were trying to move past things.

As much as she should hate Lila, she couldn’t. They would get along for Diego’s sake. Things were never going to be the way they were before, but they didn’t need to be.

Despite her newfound contentment, she thought about Booth Five often. It saddened her to know that it was likely that he no longer even existed somewhere out there.

She thought about how every Five in that deli had fought so hard to make things right but none of them had even come close to an iota, a fraction, of the happiness that they deserved.

———

It was a rainy Sunday morning and she was spending it curled up on her couch with trashy, mindless TV and a cup of tea.

She was just contemplating the idea of a nap when a soft, hesitant knock sounded at her door.

“Hold on!” She called, pausing the tv and wrapping the blanket around herself to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her pajamas had seen much better days. She hadn’t been expecting company.

She looked through the peep hole, her heart dropping a bit at who she found on the other side.

Five stood there, his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, as he waited for her to open the door. She hadn’t seen him since an impromptu family brunch over a month ago. He typically made himself scarce when she was around. Not that she blamed him.

She did a small round of the breathing exercises her therapist taught her before undoing the chain and padlock.

She had barely cracked the door open when she realized that something was just slightly off about her visitor. His eyes found hers and her breath caught in her chest. Those green eyes, as familiar to her as her own, did not belong to the Five she had expected to see.

“Booth?” She gasped, her head spinning.

He looked utterly perplexed by her nickname for him, but a grin spread across his face anyways, “You call me Booth?”

“How?” She squeaked, throwing the door open, “It is you, right?”

“It’s me,” he confirmed, “God, I’ve missed you.”

She threw herself at him, blanket forgotten, and he caught her with a surprised grunt, steadying her on her feet as she peppered his face with kisses. Wherever she could reach, she planted her lips there.

“How?” She breathlessly questioned him between kisses, “How are you here?”

“It’s a long story,” he told her, unwilling to let her go now that he finally had her in his arms, “One I promise I’ll tell you later, but right now, please don’t stop kissing me.”

She complied, stepping back just long enough to yank him in to her apartment by his collar, slamming the door behind them.

As soon as he heard the latch click, his hands were on her, starving for affection. Y/N returned those affections tenfold, scaling him without reservation.

Caution be damned.

“You’re here,” she repeated over and over, still unable to wrap her mind around it.

“I’m here,” he reassured her, running his fingertips along her spine, taking in the feel of her, “And I’m not going anywhere, if you’ll have me.”

She pressed her lips to his in answer, her fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer.

“As if I would let you get away again.”

He chuckled against her lips before deepening the kiss, moving his hands to her waist. He dug his fingertips in there, oh so deliciously, and she melted against him. Everything with him had always felt so right, natural, from the moment he first held her in the deli.

Fated. Meant to be. Call it what you will, but she knew that being with him was worth all of the inherent risks that came with it.

They were lying in her bed, wrapped up in each other, as Booth drew lazy circles up and down her arm.

“You don’t mind me calling you Booth, do you? It was just easier to differentiate between the two of you in my head that way.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, “Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want as long as you call me yours.”

Her cheeks warmed and she buried her face in his neck, taking in the scent that was uniquely him. Uniquely Booth.

“I love you,” she hummed.

“I love you too,” he tilted her chin up so that they were nose to nose, “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

Tag List:

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[thesharktanksdriver]

Star covered hug booth (platonic)

Not canon but just some plane what if fun based on an ask from awhile back. Also sorry I’ve been inactive I’ve had some burnout as of late alongside starting second year university lol

Send me asks for characters you’d like to see hug Determination! Y/n

Masterlist for determination!

In life Nami had many things she has come to love.

For one she loved her mom Bellemere and sister Nojiko (as well as Genzo, a man who was the only father-figure she had in her life despite how she butted heads with him). Nami loved them wholeheartedly, loved them so deeply she sacrificed her childhood to ensure Bellemere’s sacrifice was not in vain.

She loved Cocoyashi. Loved the quaint island village she called home, the old beaten paths she’d chart on her first mock maps. Loved its people that despite having their pockets nicked by her small nimble hands still cared for her (only years later did she learn that many would let her get away with taking their wallets and would give Bellemere discounts for things she needed).

She loved tangerines and oranges. The smell of them lingered on her and in her dreams as the soft memories of that home on a cliffside played in her mind. The sweet taste that stuck to her tongue, the white blossoms in the spring and the color that matched the sunsets that she would peer out at through windows.

She loved money, she felt more secure with it after the years of barely scraping by and being extorted. Liked being able to provide for herself things that seemed more like a childish dream rather than a reality. Nami liked buying clothes, jewels, supplies and things for everyone on board even if they had not noticed. She also used it as a way to tie people to her, by having a “debt” it meant that they would not leave her (even if in her mind she knows they won’t).

And most of all Nami loved her crew.

Nami loved the idiot she called a captain. Dressed in flip flops and his raggedy straw hat sitting like a crown atop messy raven hair along with a stretched out smile across his face.

loved the moss haired swordsman without a sense of direction. How loyalty ran through his blood and his unwavering spirit in spite of the situations they ended up in.

Loved the blond haired cook who went out of his way to feed the crew with a grin. A cigarette hung limply on his lips whilst he handed off Hand made drinks specially catered to individual tastes.

Loved the long nosed cowardly sniper who she leant on for support as one of the only sane ones left on this crew. Their shared dry remarks on ridiculous situations before laughter replaced it.

Loved the blue nosed little doctor that plastered wounds with bandaids with their Jolly Roger. His bursts of bashfulness at being told he did a good job and his love of all things pink and sweet.

Loved the calm and cool historian who never failed to make her feel appreciated. The woman who never asks about the nightmares (nor does Nami ask about her own) but instead silently comfort each other.

Loved the shipwright with flashy chains and a steel hard smile. The man who puts love into their vassal with each nail and board while making unconventional machines that make everyone else smile.

Loved the joke making skeleton with annoying questions but with the soul of a true musician. Ivory bones drifting along similarly ivory keys whilst the crew listened to his songs of old.

Loved the reserved yet hearty presence of the helmsman that helps her through her trauma of fish and scales. The way he uses graceful movements of his karate that’s used to water her tangerines before he splashes a nearby Luffy.

And finally Nami loved the starry-eyed storyteller of the crew. The cherub face of an old soul that has seen too much of the world and has yet to change. A child stuck to watch the world around them change, telling the stories lost to time and later their own mind.

Nami loved her crew.

Maybe that was a bit of an understatement, but the point still stands.

…..but god did she sometimes loath their spending habits which leads her to this situation now.

As the only person on this damn boat with any Handle on money (besides Sanji when he’s not head over heels) she can’t help but want to bash her head in. Because along with being the navigator she handles the money, but evidently that didn’t matter to her stupid (affectionate) crew mates.

No Luffy you can’t buy 5 tons of meat just because your hungry.

No Zoro you can’t buy an oceans worth of booze because you feel like it.

No Sanji you can’t just buy every woman in a crowd a necklace because their “angels sent by heaven”.

No Ussop you can’t just buy a bunch of random supplies for your bombs half that stuff doesn’t make sense.

No chopper you can’t stalk up on cotton candy…the medical supplies is allowed though knowing this crew.

No Robin you can’t have another library on board when our room is already stacked from top to bottom in books.

No Franky for the love of god please stop buying supplies for robots we already have enough of them.

No Brook you don’t need a glass piano we already have 3 different pianos on the sunny.

No jimbe…actually no Jimbe your good because you're actually an responsible adult…wait why do you have so many Hawaii shirts-

And finally you. The only person on this crew who sticks to the budget but never actually buys anything for themself. Honestly she’d be happy if you went over budget and got yourself something, but she knows that’ll happen when Luffy becomes a vegetarian.

Nami loves her crew but god does that seem to screw her over.

They barely had enough to afford supplies at the next port, and though stealing wasn’t off the table laying low would be nice. Especially since her idiot of a captain just had to make a ruckus recently and have a good portion of the marines on their tail.

She’d really like to avoid another jailbreak.

So with that in mind she needed cash quickly.

And with that formed various schemes and ideas.

Form a mlm? Nah too much time to invest in.

Rob a bank? Too much attention.

Form a big distraction and then rob people blind? Shed and most of the crew would avoid doing that to civilians if possible.

And with all those x’d out ideas in mind she finally came to one that seemed plausible.

Somehow you had gained the friendship of many people over your many years of living. From almost all the warlords to Yonko’s and even admirals.

And knowing this Nami’s mind started a scheme. One that left her conflicted.

Because as much as their finances needed it, she wasn’t alright if it made you uncomfortable.

===

It’s partially halfway to their next destination that Nami sits herself next to you whilst you watch the waves. They lapped over one another, folding into the endless blue complimented by bubbling white foam. The sight never seemed to grow old to your eyes, even after so many years of watching the same sight once more as the day continued in its mellowness.

Normally someone of the crew would come to join you so it’s not too surprising when Nami joins.

But what is surprising is when she speaks up instead of continuing in sweet silence.

“We’re low on funds and I had an idea” she starts slowly, she picks beneath her nails, a nervous habit of hers. You noticed it quite easily, for as much as Nami wanted to look like she’s calm and in control you’d alway noticed the cracks in her resolve. It’s what you respected about her. The way she always tried to act like a pillar for others to lean on even when she was as brittle and scared as everyone else.

“Sure thing” you say, still looking out towards the waves.

“But you didn’t-“

“Nami I trust you.”

You think that for a moment that breaks her, shattering her heart into thousands of tiny pieces. Though that should hardly be surprising to her, because of course you trusted her. She was your navigator, your friend. You had every reason to, yet still it resonates within her deeply.

“You didn’t even hear what it was” her tone is slightly chiding, yet lingering fear still makes itself known despite your previous comment. “I had the idea for a hug booth…you know so many people who’d go to the end of the earth for you” she seems slightly uncomfortable saying this, as if slightly upset at herself.

“Yeah sure thing.” You say once more.

Instead of silence though you're met by her ocher brown eyes.

Nami places her hands gently on your shoulders, getting down on a knee to look you in the eye on your level. She looks for apprehension, yet finds none.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks this with a tone that indicates how serious she is “if you're not that’s fine and I can think of something else. But I need to know if you're ok with this.”.

She watches a smile cross your face, small hands that were soft yet should be weathered over the years and years you’d been alive gently cupping her cheeks. You’d done this before to ground her, those nights filled with nightmares of Arlong that left her crying and grasping for anything to hold. The ones where she’d desperately want to curl up and disappear into herself, the ones where she'd look to her shoulder and still see the tattoo beneath the cover up.

It was a gesture of sincerity.

“I’m alright with it, Nami.”

Your eyes sparkle.

“I would’ve said I wasn’t if I was. Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing who shows up! Plus it’ll be nice to see some old friends again”

At that Nami nods, a shaky breath leaving her as she stands back up. She swallows down the last bit of fear and anxiety about pushing you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.

And then her game face quickly takes over.

Her head snaps towards Usopp and Franky’s direction.

“Get to work on advertisements and a booth pronto. You’ll get a bigger cut in the budget I’ve set”

===

On the grand line there was a small island that was considered an odd outlier to that of many other islands.

The island of “plote devi’cee” was one that served as a neutral ground for both marines and pirates alike. It started decades ago due to a legend, a daughter of a marine falling in love with a pirate. The meeting of the boyfriend and dad didn’t go well as expected, the boyfriend ended up dead as did the dad which left the girl heartbroken and supposedly cursing the island.

So long as pirates or marines stepped foot on its soil no fights could happen.

Lest they suffer like the poor fools all those years ago who had their ships decimated via sea kings and such bad weather that the ship capsized.

This is important due to the fact that it was the perfect place to set up shop.

You’d been to this place a few times before, so when mentioning it to Nami for this money making scheme it seemed like the only logical place it could work.

With the pamphlets handed out via news birds and your crows they’d inevitably end up at Marineford. So better to be on neutral territory for both marine and pirates without having the operation busted.

So with that in mind and the sunny docked Nami took quickly to setting up shop.

The small booth Franky constructed stood proud and strong atop a small hill just outside the village of the island. Just far enough out of the way as to not disturb their peaceful lives as you sat in your booth waiting. Drapes of cloth created a small doorway and privacy for you and the future customers. Mostly since you’d known this would likely get emotional for more than a few people (perhaps even yourself). Now thinking about it though, it seemed more like a tent and booth but “y/n’s hug booth” was definitely more of a zinger.

Just outside holding a large set of jars were Sanji and Zoro, your “guards” and debt collectors for Nami. Behind your stand was Robin sitting in a small sun chair. An ear inside the booth to listen for the secret sign of you being uncomfortable, 3 taps on the wood and then it would be the signal for zoro and Sanji to drag off whoever was inside.

It wasn’t fully fool proof but it was enough for you to be comfortable enough.

And so you wait.

But it seems not for long as you hear the exasperated murmur of Nami not far away from the booth.

“That’s a lot of ships”.

Seems like the hugging shall begin.

Boa Hancock

Before even seeing the curtain open, you hear Sanji’s commotion of “my eyes have been blessed by a goddess-“ before a subsequent thwack sound resonating in the air. You're not sure who hit Sanj whether From Zoro, Nami or Boa herself but the curtain opens and there enters the empress of the Amazon Lily herself.

The proclaimed most beautiful woman in the world and snake princess warlord.

She sits down, posed and perfect on the small stool. Long legs crossed as you watch the apathy from her face fade at now being in private with you.

It’s odd for you to see her public persona of uncaring, cruel and selfish. Not when you know at heart she’s a girl who’s been victim to the most vicious of cruelties. A woman who longs to be kind yet cannot face being hurt once more, someone who’d rather push those closest away if it ensured their safety.

It’s why you smile when a soft expression covers her face.

“Sorry if Sanji gave you trouble, he’s a massive flirt…and a simp. He means well though, just takes a bit far sometimes” you say a little exasperated as you rub the back of your neck. She gives a small chuckle, the sound of it is soft and pretty like wind chimes and birdsong.

“He’s a man, I’ve dealt with plenty worse.” It comes off as slightly mocking towards the blond, though you’d let it slide knowing her experience with men…plus as much as you loved Sanji he was a bit over the top “besides, I came here to see you.”.

“I must be lucky then. Having been graced with the presence of an empress” the tone is accented by a slight giggle. One that she mirrors with a true smile, one not marred by fakeness or lies, just genuine.

“It’s…it’s good to see you again”

“It’s good to see you too Hancock”

You open your arms, and she reaches forwards to warp you in her own.

Her hug is stiff at first, as if she had not felt the comfort of arms holding her in a very long time and still trying to uphold her mask of stone cold empress. But much like her mask, it cracks and breaks.

What once was stiff arms much like when she petrified people circled around you soon melts.

She pulls you closer, resting her head atop your shoulder as she just holds you and you hold her.

The floral scent of the Amazon lily creates a pleasant smell that wafts within the tent. Roses, peonies, lilacs and of course Lillie’s tickle your nose. It’s much different from your scent of sea salt and dust covered books.

It takes a moment but you quickly begin to hear soft sobs leave her. Tears trailing down and making your shoulder dampen.

You don’t mind.

You just pat her head as gently as you can.

Once more Boa Hancock does not feel like a heartless warlord nor a scared little girl huddled in a cell.

Boa was just Boa.

She was more than the beauty, the power or the brand on her back.

She was more than just her body.

And that’s more priceless than anything she could ever imagine.

“Thank you” her voice is quiet and gentle, something few people would ever have the luxury of hearing.

“No need to thank me Boa.”

To her, your hug signifies a genuine love. One not of romance that clouds the eyes of her fanatic nor of lust that clouds the eyes of men. Your love was Just the love of a friend.

The love of the person behind her facade.

You see her gentle heart and hold it with equal gentle hands.

“You can always turn to me if you need it, can always use my shoulder to cry on. It doesn’t make you weak, it only makes you stronger”

Mihawk Dracule

His appearance at the booth is as cryptic and abrupt just as his appearance of his boat on the sea is.

It’s abrupt.

Expected.

And to everyone but you (and maybe Zoro) it’s an unpleasant surprise.

One that should be bound for bloodshed yet creates a certain tinge of happiness as he closes the curtains behind him and sits down on the small chair facing you.

Yoru being leant against the chair.

A small and subtle sign that he feels at ease with you.

…or at least didn’t see you as a threat. (It was hard to tell with him)

“It’s good to see you again Mihawk, how has the traveling been?” You say this while leaning against your palm that rested on the stand.

Golden ringed eyes stare at you, for a moment you can distinguish a crinkle of affection.

“They’ve been monotonous as usual. Overzealous fools who think they can challenge me”

“An, so like zoro?”

He chuckles at that, distantly outside the tent you hear a distinct “Oi!” Before the sounds of Sanji kicking him. Their bickering fades into the background as Nami presumably dragged them away.

Mihawk leans over, and suddenly you're enveloped in his arms. It’s perhaps a bit unexpected, though with Mihawk things were always a gamble. You half anticipated for him to leave without a hug, but seeing that he hadn’t made you all the more happier.

Mihawk's hug feels secure and protective, as if he were a shield to the rest of the world and its hardships.

Hands that have seen endless fighting and held the hilt of blood a rusted sword hold you.

His hold is not gentle but it is perhaps the softest Mihawk could ever be.

And that’s ok.

Because in his hold it feels as if you're safe.

That he would take on the world to ensure that even when you’d left his arms you’d never have to worry.

And while that’s a far off dream, knowing Mihawk he’d try.

And that’s perhaps the most comforting thought behind it all.

Mihawk would try for you if you’d ask.

If you’d ask, you could have stayed at his abode.

If you’d asked he would do all that he could to ensure you’d never have to die and reappear again.

But he’d only do that if you’d ask.

He didn’t make that decision for you.

Didn’t decide that his judgment was better than yours and impede on your ability to make decisions.

He might have disagreed with some of your decisions but he respected you to make them.

And even more so, he respected you even if he was wrong.

He would never admit to it, but in those few moments you’d proven him wrong a certain pride shone in eagle eyes.

A certain uplift of the corner of his mouth.

“The humandrills miss you…I have a room open if you’d ever require it” it’s said quietly, like a secret exchanged beneath candlelight. It’s a valuable moment, it reminds you of that thing that zoro had said.

“A wound on the back is a swordsman’s shame”

Vulnerability was not something easily handed out by swordsmen, especially not one like Mihawk. A weakness, a so-called wound on his back or in this case his heart. It’s not something to be taken lightly. But luckily you know this well.

“I’d like that”

His mouth twitches, sloping upwards ever so slightly.

To him the hug you give is a moment where he can momentarily be at ease and feel as if he had a goal to accomplish.

Throughout aimless travel he tries to find his match yet all that come to him are disappointments. Battle after battle of people not being able to even land a single blow on him. It’s a constant that leaves him bitter and resigned as he’d toll away in his castle alone.

But with you in arms that carry the burden of being the best he finds himself with a mission that seems ever so slightly more achievable.

He could protect you as best he could.

Though that is an equally daunting task considering your penchant for death, it feels more feasible so long as you remain in his hold.

Small arms that are wrapped around his neck mean no harm.

He has no use in being on edge, not when you’d barely had the will to ever pick up a blade. Even when your life depended on it.

For a short moment the bloodthirsty marine hunter feels at ease.

You do not see him smile but you can feel the warmth he exudes when his hand cards through your hair.

Marco

The cries of “cheater!” And “we agreed that everyone else would get a head start!” Ring out from the very familiar voices of whitebeard’s division commanders outside the tent as an even more familiar voice yells out to them “early bird gets the worm” with an amused chuckle.

And it’s there that the small tent is lit up by flames of cyan blue and brilliant gold. Still in his partial zoan form his clawed feet press against the ground as tail feathers of gold trail behind him like a burning chain.

Flames flicker in a calm heat, letting small pops of sparks almost as if they were mini-fireworks.

A lazy smile is across his face as he sits leisurely across from you.

“Long time no see Marco, how’s the family?”

He chuckles, pointing his thumb to the now closed curtain door as the slightly muffled sounds of complaints just outside answer the question. “Licking their wounds but for the most part good.” There’s an audible “hey!” Once more behind the curtain which makes you chuckle in turn. But eventually the chuckles settle down into silence.

And for a moment besides the murmurs outside there’s a warm silence punctuated by the soft crackles of flame.

Warm blue and soft gold.

Flames that are simultaneously soft as feathers as they wrap around you. Cocooning you in their warm nest of a grasp, like a mother bird swaddling an egg. You could go on and on with the bird analogies, but none could ever describe the sense of comforting warmth that covers your heart in its inferno.

“We’ve all missed you”

The fire burns like a campfire on your heart. The soft oozy scent and taste of s’mores as the muffled laughs of friends and family. The sweetness of chocolate, slightly charred marshmallow and crumbly graham-cracker seem to appear like phantoms on your tongue.

“Pops checks the bounties for you”

A father’s warm hand places itself on your shoulder as the two of you sit by the fireplace. The fireplace sets the blaze on your heart to that of a warmer intensity. Frost presses against the nearby window and nearby boots, hats and mittens let snow melt into them. The chill of winter easing away at the warmth of home and the presence of a man who swore to love and protect you.

“Izou has been arranging for some old spare kimonos of his to be given to you”

A mothers warm hands cup your cheeks as a tender kiss is placed atop your forehead, red phantom lipstick staining your flesh as its kindness traveled to your burning heart. A light giggle echoes from rose lips, a giggle escaping your own as tears pinch at the edges of your eyes at her goodbye.

“Ace, Thatch, and I have been keeping track of your guys’s adventures”

The hearth of your heart feels the burn of the sun clench around it like a firm hug. Beneath a sun hat you pick at a freshly tended garden, soil pooling beneath your hands as you pat it down firmly. Roots tangle beneath the ground, red strawberries hanging low and ripe for the picking as they are placed in a wicker basket. brother places a glass on the ground beside you, cool lemonade fresh on your patched tongue and the bittersweet of it lingering as his blurred face is obscured by the shadow of his own hat.

Love burns you to the core. It’s heat scorching a heart that should be dead and reigniting its will to keep moving.

You melt into the cool flames of blue and gold.

Your tears don’t put it out but instead makes it wrap more securely around you.

[jensengirl83]

You'll Accompany Me Chp 18

Warnings- Some angst, fluff, mild descriptions of childbirth

Word Count- 3530

A/N- Sorry this has taken so long, but the series is finally finished! I'll be posting a chapter a week until the last one. I hope you all enjoy it!

It had been a month since Jensen had proposed to Y/N, and things were going well. She was still working on getting ready for the arrival of their baby. She was due to go to her next appointment to check on her condition later that afternoon, and Jensen had been trying to get her to reconsider not finding out the gender. 

“Seriously, honey, you don’t want to know what it is?” he asked, his tone almost begging. 

“No, Jay. I want it to be a surprise. Everything hasn’t gone so well since I found out I was pregnant, and I just want this one thing to be something to look forward to,” she chuckled. 

“How many times do I have to apologize for what I did, huh? I’ve tried to make it up to you in every way I know how. You know I’ll never forgive myself for it, so why did you have to bring it up?” he responded, his voice cracking with emotion at the end. 

“Jay…” she sighed, reaching for his hand, but he pulled it away. 

She knew that she’d struck a nerve, but she also needed him to let her explain how she was feeling, and she couldn’t do that if he wouldn’t even look at her. She reached for him one more time just for him to pull away again, not even looking in her direction. Not giving him the chance to withdraw from her, she cupped his face in her hands and turned his face to look at her. 

“I want you to listen to me, okay? Yes, what happened was hard, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. The fact that I was ordered on bed rest because of a serious health condition that could hurt me and the baby was a lot to deal with. Me being so stubborn and taking so long to forgive you and cut what time we could’ve been enjoying this pregnancy together is something else I have to live with. And I kick myself in the ass for that every day, but I have forgiven you, Jay. I really have. So, please, stop beating yourself up over it, and thinking that every time I bring up what a hard time I’ve had, that it means I’m talking about that, okay?” 

She could see his eyes begin to tear up, and she felt horrible. This isn’t where she wanted the conversation to go, but now she had to try and fix it. With a sigh of regret, she pulled him to her, kissing him softly, and wrapping him in a hug. She could feel the tension all over him, so she slowly ran her hand through his hair, whispering apologies and how much she loved him over and over until she could feel him start to relax. He eventually pulled away to look at her, and it compounded her guilt. He looked heartbroken. 

“Jay, I’m so sorry. Please believe me when I tell you that I forgave you a long time ago, and nothing I said was about that,” she whispered, hugging him around his waist and resting her head on his chest.

“It’s okay, baby. I believe you. I just…” he paused, looking down at her, her eyes letting him know she was listening and wanted to hear what he had to say, “I’ve never forgiven myself for leaving you like that, and I think that stress is what may have caused your preeclampsia in the first place. And that makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.”

“Please, Jay, forgive yourself. I did a long time ago. I was just too stubborn to admit it, and I’m sorry. But, baby, that had nothing to do with what happened to me. It happens to a lot of pregnant women, and you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I love you, Jensen, and if knowing the gender will make you feel better, then that’s what we’ll do,” she smiled, squeezing his middle in a tight hug. 

“We don’t have to find out if you really don’t want to. That wouldn’t be fair,” he sighed in contentment, kissing the top of her head. He loved her hugs. 

“No, it’s okay. Maybe it would be helpful in the end. That way we could buy exactly what we need without getting everything gender neutral,” she giggled as he tickled her ribs. 

“You have any idea how much I fucking love you?” 

“Probably not as much as I love you,” she sassed back, laughing when he sighed in faux annoyance. 

“Always busting my balls, Y/L/N.” he deadpanned, trying to hide his smile. 

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“No. No I wouldn’t, darlin’,” he replied, pulling her into his lap. She’d never know how grateful he was to have her there. To have her, period. 

Y/N’s knee was bouncing with nerves as they sat in the doctor’s office later that afternoon. She was hoping for a good report and that she could lift some of her restrictions and be more active. Not being able to do much other than cook, light cleaning, and lying around was starting to drive her a little insane. But, something was eating at her that everything wasn’t going to be okay, and she couldn’t shake that feeling. She’d been having small Braxton Hicks contractions, but other than that, everything was progressing as it should. But something just wouldn’t let her feel like everything was fine. 

She jumped slightly as the nurse called her name to lead her back to the exam room. She didn’t think Jensen had noticed how nervous she was, but he had. As she stood, he took her hand, kissing it lightly and giving it a little squeeze to tell her without words that he was there and it would be okay. If only she could believe it. She hadn’t been in the small room long before Dr. Williams walked in with her million-watt smile she always had. It had always put Y/N at ease, but not today. 

“Good afternoon, mom and dad. How are we feeling today?” Dr. Williams asked, sitting down on the small stool and getting everything prepared for the exam. 

“I’m not going to lie. Other than the normal Braxton Hicks, nothing is going on, but I just feel like something is going to go wrong with the exam today,” Y/N answered honestly, Jensen looking over at her, one eyebrow raised in confusion and concern. She hadn’t mentioned feeling that way to him. 

“It’s fine, Y/N. A lot of mothers have that feeling at this stage of pregnancy, and especially if they have complications. Do we still not want to know the gender?” 

“No. Y/N agreed to find out this time,” Jensen replied quickly, his big smile letting Y/N know she’d made the right decision. If this made him feel just a little better about the pregnancy, then he deserved that. 

“Okay, then. How about we get the exam over first to ease mom’s worries, and then we’ll do the ultrasound. That sound good to you two?” 

“Sounds good,” Y/N and Jensen answered simultaneously, making all three of them chuckle. 

Y/N took a deep breath as the doctor started her exam. Having her cervix checked was never a fun time, and she hated it, but it had to happen. Luckily, it was usually over quickly. But she noticed that Dr. Williams was taking longer than normal this time, and her breathing started to pick up and her heart began to race. It didn’t help when she looked up and saw a concerned look on the woman’s face. Jensen had noticed, too, and before Y/N could say anything, Jensen was speaking. 

“What’s wrong, doc? Is everything okay? Is there something wrong with Y/N or the baby?” he rapidly fired the questions at the doctor, his palms beginning to sweat with nervousness. He didn’t know what he would do if something was wrong. 

“Just calm down, everyone. There’s nothing major going on,” Dr. Williams began before taking a breath to tell them what she had found, “But, Y/N is completely effaced and dilated to 5 centimeters.” 

“What the hell does that mean? She’s only thirty-five weeks along. There’s no way she can be dilated!” Jensen shouted, his fear beginning to take over and panic setting in. 

“What?! I can’t be. It’s too early! I can’t have the baby now,” Y/N cried, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.Something was wrong and she knew it, knew something was wrong with her baby. 

“Everyone calm down. This isn’t unheard of with women that have preeclampsia. Yes, it’s a little early, but the baby will probably be just fine.” 

“Probably?! I’m not fine with a probably,” Jensen was yelling now. 

“Mr. Ackles, many women have babies at this stage and most are just fine. Of course, I can’t give you an absolute guarantee, because there isn’t any when it comes to these things. But, I can tell you that I think mom and baby are going to be just fine. Now, I have to go get her a room ready for labor and delivery. A nurse will be down soon to get her moved to that floor. I know this isn’t easy, but I need you both to try and be as calm as you can. That’s what’s going to help mom and baby get through this happy and healthy,” Dr. Williams smiled, patting Jensen on the shoulder as she left the couple alone to try and come to terms with their impending situation. 

“Jay…” Y/N’s trembling voice brought Jensen out of his panic. He was by her side in an instant, running his hand over her head, and kissing her face. 

“It’s okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered while soothing her, hoping that he would eventually believe his own words. 

“But what if it’s not? What if the baby is too small and…” she began to cry when he interrupted her. 

“No, uh uh. You’re both going to be fine, baby. This is a great hospital, and babies are born more prematurely than ours all the time and are just fine. All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself and bringing our little peanut out to meet us. Okay? I’ve got everything else,” he reassured her, even though he felt as if he would crumble at any moment. 

She nodded her head and cried. She knew that she had a rough journey ahead of her, and she would need all the strength she had to deliver the baby. But she couldn’t stop worrying about whether he or she would be okay. And she knew she had to have Jensen make her a promise before all the craziness got started. 

“Jay, no matter what happens in there, you stay with the baby. No matter what,” she begged, knowing she couldn’t do this without that promise. 

“Y/N…” 

“No, Jay. You have to promise me. Please, I'm begging you. Take care of our baby if anything goes wrong. Please promise me Jay,” she wailed, the tears and fear of what could happen overtaking her. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I promise, honey. I'll stay with the baby no matter what. But you have to make me a promise. You gotta promise me that you’ll do everything you can to be okay. We’re both going to bring this precious baby home together. You hear me?” he pleaded, his tears finally breaking free and dropping down to her forehead where he had rested his against it. 

“I promise,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his face and kiss him softly, just as the door opened and the nurse came in. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, we’re here to take you upstairs.” 

“I’ll be right behind you,” Jensen kissed her one last time as the nurse walked over to wheel her up to delivery in her bed.

“See you soon, handsome,” she smiled, squeezing his hand as they began to wheel her out of the room. 

Jensen was pacing the floor waiting for the nurse to come tell him he could be with Y/N. Once they had gotten her upstairs, they told him he needed to wait outside in the hall while they got her settled in and hooked to all the monitors, and an IV inserted. He had already made all the phone calls he needed to make. Jared and Gen were on their way, his parents were heading out as soon as they could, and Dee and the kids knew that she would be delivering soon, and wanted to wait until she was in recovery before they came to visit. All he was waiting on now was the okay to be with his future wife. It felt like an eternity before the nurse came out and took him in to see Y/N. Dr. Williams was there when he walked in. 

“Hello, Mr. Ackles. I’ll get you up to speed on what’s happening. Sorry, it took so long to bring you in, but her water broke when we moved her to her new bed. So, that means that there’s an increased risk of infection if her labor doesn’t progress in a timely manner. Which means that I put her on a Pitocin drip through her IV. Unfortunately, that means her contractions will be more intense than usual, but that also means that little Ackles will make their debut sooner.” 

“Okay, so what do I need to do?” he asked, completely at a loss about what he should be doing. 

“Same thing you did with your other three children when your wife was in labor,” the doctor said, a look of confusion on her face. 

“Well, see, that’s the problem. All three of my other kids were scheduled c-sections. I never had to go through the labor part of it,” he answered sheepishly, feeling stupid for not knowing what to expect. 

“Oh! Well, then that makes sense,” the doctor giggled, “No need to be embarrassed. Just do whatever you can to help her be comfortable, and be her support when she needs encouragement. Other than that, buckle up and enjoy the ride. This will be a completely different but amazing experience for you.” 

“O-Okay,” he stuttered, a little overwhelmed with everything going on around him.

“Jay, it’s okay. Just come sit beside me, please,” Y’N’s voice broke him out of his stupor, her tired smile and outstretched hand making his legs finally work to have a seat by her side. 

“How are you feeling, baby?” he asked, running his hand over her head. 

“Remember that scene from Alien?” she chuckled dryly. 

“The chest burster?!” he gasped at the visual image in his head. 

“Yeah, that one. Kinda like that,” she frowned as a strong contraction hit. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay,” he huffed, her hand feeling like it was going to crush his  fingers as she squeezed. 

Jensen kept repeating to her that everything was fine and that she was doing amazing, and that it would all be over soon as each contraction had her gritting her teeth and crying in pain. He hated seeing her in so much pain, and he would do it for her if he could. But since he couldn’t, he stayed by her side with words of encouragement, little kisses on her face and head, and wiping the sweat away with a cool cloth. And after what felt like an eternity, the doctor told them that it was finally time for her to push. 

The flurry of activity in the room as the doctor and nurses prepared to help bring their baby into the world had his head spinning, but he tried to keep his focus on Y/N, and do everything he could to make it as easy as he could for her. Once the doctor told him to hold Y/N’s leg up, he knew the show was starting, and he didn’t know if he wanted to jump for joy, throw up, or pass out. 

“Jay. I can’t do this,” she cried after twenty minutes of pushing, her body feeling as if it would give out at any moment. 

“Yes you can, baby. You’re doing so good. They’re almost here, and we’ll know soon whether we have a son or daughter,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her temple, “I’m so fucking proud of you, honey. You’ve got this.” 

‘Come on, Y/N. I can see the head now. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor yelled out, making Jensen look down. 

“Don’t you dare look at that! It’ll scar you forever,” Y/N screamed, groaning through another contraction. 

“Baby, nothing could ever make me think any differently of you,” he said sweetly, looking back down to where the doctor was, “Oh my God! Honey, I can see the head! It has so much hair!” 

Jensen was elated. He couldn’t have imagined that this experience would’ve been so profound. Of course, seeing his other children being brought into the world through c-section was absolutely amazing, too. But this was a completely different ballgame. 

“Okay, Y/N. One more big push and you’ll meet your baby,” the nurse beside her said, holding her leg up higher to give her more leverage to push. Jensen followed suit, and leaned back to Y/N. 

“Come on, baby. You can do it. One more and we get to see our baby,” he cooed, kissing her forehead as she gave one last push. 

The sound of a loud cry pierced the room, and Y/N and Jensen both let out cries of their own at the wonderful sound. She’d done it. She’d endured the worst pain of her life, and now, her son or daughter was there, screaming for the whole delivery floor to hear. She’d never heard such a beautiful sound in her life. She continued to cry tears of joy as Jensen kissed all over her face, his tears mixing with hers, him showering her with praise for what a great job she had done.

“Mr. Ackles, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Williams asked, a bright smile on her face, “You have a very healthy baby over here.” 

Y/N and Jensen began to sniffle at her words. Their baby was perfectly healthy. All the worry of them being premature and having complications melting away. Jensen walked over to cut the cord. His breath caught in his throat when he looked down, the doctor smiling at him. 

“How about you cut this cord, and then you can go tell mama what the gender is, huh?” 

Jensen just nodded. He was speechless. This experience had been one of the most nerve-wracking but beautiful he’d ever had, and he couldn’t wait to tell Y/N what the gender was. Once the cord was cut, and the baby cleaned and wrapped up, Jensen slowly walked back to his fiancee, a face-splitting smile on his face. 

“Honey, would you like to hold our son?” he asked, a tear slipping down his cheek at the way Y/N’s face lit up with his words. 

“It’s a boy?” she whispered, her voice breaking with all the emotion she was feeling. 

“It’s a healthy little boy,” he beamed with pride, gently placing their son in his mama’s arms. 

“Oh my God, Jay. He’s beautiful, and just perfect,” she said with awe, kissing the little boy’s nose, forehead, and cheeks. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he hiccuped with emotion, placing kisses all over her face between every word of thanks. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Jay.” 

“Yes, I do, baby. I have to thank you for being my friend all those years, for giving me the chance to be your boyfriend, for forgiving me when I fucked up so royally, for agreeing to be my wife, and especially for giving me what I didn’t even know I needed, another baby to love. So, yes, darlin’, I’ll owe you thanks every day for the rest of my life,” he whispered, afraid all the emotions he was feeling would take his voice if he tried to speak any louder. 

“I love you so much, Jay,” she smiled through tears, reaching up to cup his face. 

“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you, baby,” he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft, quick kiss. 

Jensen leaned back to look down at Y/N and their son. The love in her eyes as she looked at their son took his breath away. How could he have been so selfish to have even thought to deny her this? She was going to be a great mother, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her, raising their kids, and just loving her. He knew at that moment just what a lucky son of a bitch he was, and he was going to do his damnedest to never take that for granted again.

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[thebramblewood]

Apologies if you've answered this before, but I was looking through your asks and couldn't find anything.

Do you have any advice on how you take such good screenshots of your game? You have such a knack for lighting, having variety of shots, and making them immersive.

This is so sweet. Thank you! 🥰

If I'm being honest, it's 90% vibes and gut feelings for me. I don’t have any formal background in filmmaking or photography, and everything I know is by sheer osmosis. There’s a lot of fancy terminology to describe why certain image compositions look better than others. I admire and respect anyone who purposefully keeps that in mind. But I am definitely not that person. I think I’ve watched enough film and TV, though, to subconsciously be doing the "right thing" - or at least what looks right to me.

That being said, I think the best way to improve is practice. If you spend enough time doing something you'll obviously get better at it, even if you don't realize it at first. So the most important thing is to give yourself the patience to grow and the freedom to experiment! At any rate, here are some things I've learned that will maybe be helpful to others.

Camera Tricks: We all know the camera in TS4 can be a little wonky at times. I use Buckley's camera mod. It hasn't been updated in eons but still works as far as I can tell. It gives you more freedom with movement, and I've found it especially helpful for getting shots that are lower to the ground.

Now that I've realized how sneakily useful first person camera can be, I also take advantage of that all the time. There's the trick of making your Sim look in a specific direction. (This works with poses and gameplay actions, by the way! For example, I used it to turn Caleb's head toward Lilith while he was trimming the bonsai tree.) There's the Dutch angle trick explained in this video. This is great for moments of disorientation and unease. I also just straight-up used first person camera to convey Helena's confusion upon waking after being turned.

Also, saved camera positions are your best friends. You can save up to five positions using CTRL+5-9. Then you just click the corresponding number to return to that position. I've used these for so many reasons. By taking two shots in the same position and Photoshopping them together, I've been able to edit Sims in (like Vlad below), fix accessory clashes (the book was in the hat category, so Lilith couldn't actually wear it at the same time as the towel on her head), and to pose Sims in open doorways (Helena had to walk through the door to open it for the Vatores, so I shot both halves separately).

Zoom: I love smashing that zoom button, whether it's zooming way in or way out. Zoomed out shots are perfect for establishing setting or as interstitial shots during a long conversation when you don't want to always focus on Sims' faces. They're also great for the draaama. Extreme close-ups are great for emphasizing emotion or a tiny but significant detail. Playing around with the extremes of zoom is one of the best ways to achieve shot variety!

Focus: I don't think Reshade is a necessity for good visual storytelling, but it does make certain things easier. I rely a lot on depth of field shaders to pull focus in shots. I like using cinematic depth of field especially in conversations to blur some characters while emphasizing others. I feel like this helps ground conversations because it reminds us there are multiple participants instead of always zeroing in on the speaker alone. Another way to play with focus is to allow the angle to mirror the emotions of the conversation. It's an older shot, but I always liked how Caleb seems to cower beneath Lilith's bat form here even though she's technically smaller. And in the recent conversation between Lilith and Helena, I kept the camera to Lilith's back to emphasize her vulnerability and discomfort and put the focus on Helena's reaction to it.

Framing/Angles: I do this by pure instinct, honestly, and have gotten better at getting it right on the first shot over time. I used to take half a dozen shots of the same pose from different angles and choose the best one. Nowadays, I'm quicker to commit and often take only one shot. I've learned that if something immediately tickles my brain, it's usually the way to go. I usually angle shots so that the characters aren't looking directly at camera, as it seems more natural that way. On the other hand, sometimes the direct to camera look can actually work in more confrontational or unsettling moments.

Environment: If I can help it, I don't do my own builds. In some ways, this is a disadvantage because I have to set up the scene within a space that wasn't specifically catered to it. On the other hand, it makes for fun little surprises, like the ability to peek in through a skylight or frame two characters within perfectly placed archways. I like using objects and structures to create interest when I can. I often don't discover things like this until I'm pulling the camera around and randomly happen upon them. I definitely recommend navigating all around to see what you've got to work with before committing to any specific angle. You might find one you didn't even think of!

Lighting: I do what I can with the game's lighting. I avoid placing ceiling lamps or at least turn the brightness down much lower, and I don't usually turn all the lights on in a room at once. I tend to change the color to one of the warmer golden hues to avoid a stark white that washes everything out. I always like when I can get some sources of light into frame because it adds a lot to the ambience. But I've also been using Relight on all of my posts lately. It's an addiction, and it truly makes all the difference. I'll use it to give light sources a stronger glow so they stand out more and also to create shadows on Sims' faces. It's also very good for flashlights and computer screen glow!

After having self-indulgently written all this, I'm not sure how much is usable advice versus rambling musings. I find it hard to give storytelling "tips" because so much of it feels innate and personal and hard to put into generalized terms. I also don't want to imply that every one of my shots is perfect or that there aren't a million other ways to go about achieving good results. But thank you to anyone who's made it this far, and I hope you found it worthwhile. 💕

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Thirty-Nine: By The Six

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

There are six deities that most, if not all, of Olera worships. ‘The Six’ watch over the world and everyone on it. But, their responsibilities did not start with the life that litters the world.

In the beginning, it was much simpler than that. 

Four deities ruled the elements.

Osren controls the winds that blow through the trees, kicking up leaves and spores to spread wildlife all throughout the lands. Sailors sing his praise and always carve his sigil into the hulls of their boats for his good graces.

The calmest of the gods, he comes and goes, just as the wind does. His soft spoken nature often leaves him in the middle of arguments he wants no part of. 

Davita, the water goddess, is often seen to his right. Her sigil is oftentimes carved directly next to the wind deity’s as well. The two of them are attached at the hip in every legend and fable. Even in ancient drawings, you will always see Osren and Davita standing side by side. 

It wasn’t a romantic relationship as far as the Olera-dwellers are aware. But, it was not strange to see them depicted as such in pieces of art and stories. 

Mostly everyone saw The Six as siblings. But, there are always outliers. 

Besides, Davita was too busy with her own duties to be romantically involved with anyone, especially another deity. She controlled the land’s natural waters– the sea, rivers, ponds, lakes, streams, all of them fell under her control.

Her temperament was almost as even as Osren’s, but there are stories of her losing her calm demeanor to souls who have done her wrong. 

The only deity she loses her temper with is Ralios, the god who rules over fire.

They have your typical fire versus water relationship, but at the same time they’re just as close as a brother and sister would be. They loudly pray for each other’s downfall while also silently wishing the other nothing but good fortune.

Because they both know they would be nothing without the other.

Ralios has the exact personality you would expect; he’s loud, explosive, snarky, and is the quickest to anger out of every one of the deities. Sometimes in old legends, it appears as though he disagrees with others just for the sake of being different and difficult. 

That behavior went unchecked for a while as all four of these deities created the world we know: Addran.

Akthar is the deity who rules over the entirety of terra. Everything natural and alive falls under his umbrella. He always takes on a more fatherly role with all of the other deities. Some like to depict him as a tired uncle who is sick and tired of wrangling his nieces and nephews. 

Most other legends like to portray Akthar somewhat like the older brother whose parents left him in charge until they get back. In some moments he knows what he’s doing, but in most, it’s all an act and he’s winging every single decision he makes.

With the help of his siblings, Akthar created Addran for them all to play with.

For a while, Addran simply existed as a space for the four siblings to play in like a sandbox. Osren could experiment with wind speed, Davita could let her water flow where it wanted, and even Ralios had a grand time crafting volcanoes with his brother. 

They all loved crafting and creating new and interesting things to decorate their world.

The very first thing that Akthar created solely for himself was an Elf. A small, gentle, beautiful creature that loved the world just as much as Akthar did. And when that first Elf got lonely when Akthar wasn’t around, the terra deity made another Elf, and another, and another until the forests were full of them.

These beautiful, nature-connected beings in which Akthar could communicate with through the rocks and the trees were all over the world. The Elves thrived in areas that were more densely populated with plant life, it’s where they felt more connected to the deity that made them.

Akthar raised them to be herbivores, only eating the natural fruits and vegetables that were grown out of the soil that he personally fertilized and made rich with vitamins and minerals. He made sure that no Elf ever went hungry; they were always happy and healthy. 

The Elves worshiped Akthar in ways that he almost got a bit shy about. He did not want to be seen as a benevolent god to them, he simply wanted to be a provider, a teacher, a mentor. He wanted to teach the Elves everything he knew. 

And while Akthar was busy tending to his pets, Osren, Davita, and Ralios all watched with piqued curiosity. Their brother was having so much fun playing with these little creatures that ran barefoot through the forest. They watched him teach them which berries to eat and which to stay away from.

He taught them to stay away from poison ivy, but also that snow weed can be chewed up and used as a paste for wounds. 

And the siblings watched.

Eventually, curiosity can turn into jealousy.

Why can’t they have little pets in their lands? They want creatures of their own.

“ Fine then ”, Akthar said.

And as a true older brother would, he gave each deity their own little pets.

For Davita, he created the most diverse biome imaginable. He gave her so many different forms of creatures that thrived in water. Anything that he could stir up in his beautiful brain, he gave to his only sister. Some creatures were hostile, some were calm, others varied in between, but he gave her that gift.

For Osren, he did much the same. Akthar crafted animals that loved flying through the air just as much as him. He knew how much the wind god loved to feel that breeze on his face, so he wanted his little pets to have that same love for the sensation. He gave them all wings so that they may share the love of the air. 

It took a long time for Akthar to think of what he could create for Ralios, his most explosive little brother. He saw how much Ralios seemed to like watching the Elves, but he also knew that his little brother liked having a sense of responsibility. Ralios liked being placed on a pedestal of sorts.

So Akthar created Man– who, in many ways, were just like Elves. But they needed a lot more tending to, a lot more special attention. Man needed more coddling than Mer.

The day Ralios gave Men fire was the day Akthar saw his little brother’s face light up for the first time. The fire god craved the attention that Men gave to him.

He truly became their god in every way. He became everything to Man that Akthar did not want to be to Elves.

At first, Men had diets much like Elves did: fruits and vegetables. But, Men did not seem to crave the peace that a forest brought them like their sister race did; no, Men liked building their own homes and quite liked being by the water.

None of the four siblings thought anything of it until one day, one man ventured out to the water and caught a fish. He stayed still in the water until a fish swam by his feet and then he stabbed a sharpened rock attached to a stick through the creature. 

Now, there’s much debate in legends about if Ralios told the Man to do this in order to make Davita mad or not. Some scholars will say he absolutely did, while others will say he is blameless. It all depends on who you ask.

But, when that man brought that fish back to his campsite and roasted it over the very flame that Ralios taught him how to create, his mouth began to salivate. The smells that came from the fish were absolutely intoxicating and something you just couldn’t get from a fruit or vegetable.

The moment he took the first bite, Men were doomed.

Something happened to the magic that flowed through the entirety of Addran when Man tasted another form of life. After Man tasted life, their immortality was taken. 

Ralios watched that first man eat that fish, and another fish, and another, and another until his family and their descendants ate it too. Word spread throughout Mankind about how absolutely delicious fish was, how it made them stronger, healthier, and able to perform better in every aspect. 

They could lift heavier objects, they could work longer hours in the field, everything seemed to be better after they began eating fish. And if fish tasted this good, do other animals taste that good as well?

Do chickens taste as good? Pigs? Cows? They absolutely did.

But, slowly but surely, Men began to wither and wrinkle and age.

There is much debate on why this is. What makes animal life different from plant life? What damned them? If Akthar made them, how come he can’t just make Man immortal again. But, even gods can’t explain everything. 

The first Man died in front of Akthar and Ralios’ very eyes. And the two deities watched as his soul left his body and then… hovered. It was such a strange sight. The soul continued on with its daily activities; it went down to the water and walked along the beach, it went back to the home where it grew up, it floated around its children and grandchildren.

But none of the other Men acknowledged the soul, they could not see it. Only the siblings could. 

Pain and despair came off the soul after a while. What good is going through a world surrounded by life only to be ignored by all?

After some time, the next Man died and the entire process started again. More sadness and more despair came from them. Every single moment of it hit Ralios in the heart.

He begged his siblings for help. What could they do? What could they possibly do for these souls who are leaving Addran?

Well, if they could create one world, couldn’t they make another for these poor souls?

So, they did.

Utrium is where all Men hope to go when their souls leave their bodies. It is where their ancestors reside. It’s where all those precious souls go once their lives on Addran are over. 

The four siblings worked and worked to create this world. They wanted it to be something even better than Addran, they wanted it to be a safe haven for these tortured souls so that they can rest easy after their departure.

But then the question is raised afterwards: Do all souls deserve to go to Utrium?

The short answer is no.

Much debate went into this, the siblings argued about it for eons on end while souls continued to stray on Addran. From all their bickering and arguing, without realizing it, the four deities created another, harsher, more foul world for all the darker souls to go once they have left their bodies. 

Ytrium.

Most of Addran refers to Ytrium as The Void. Souls do not really reside in Ytrium. It’s not really a physical place. 

It’s seen as more of a bottomless pit of sorts. There’s no living or residence in the void. If your soul goes to Ytrium, you no longer exist. Your soul is consumed entirely and you are no more than a memory until the last person on Addran forgets you. 

It’s cruel and terrible and not at all what any of the siblings had in mind for their creations but it was no longer in their hands anymore. Once something is created, it cannot be destroyed, that is the nature of the universe they reside in. 

None of the siblings look upon The Void favorably. But at the same time, Utrium was too much for any of them to handle.

Also, who are they to decide what souls go to Utrium and what souls go to Ytrium? 

That’s when they decided that two more deities needed to be created. But these two deities need to be on the same page about everything. They can not argue, they need to always see eye to eye, different sides of the same coin.

Akthar turned to Osren, his calmest and most soft spoken brother, and he asked him to assist with this– and his brother happily complied.

One entity was created by taking a piece of Osren’s soul. And then Akthar split this entity in half, thus creating Uddos and Ytris. 

They are identical twins in every sense of the word. The two of them are perfect, they are always in agreement, and they always do their job. Neither of them ever complain about their respective jobs or cause a fuss.

Legends like to depict Ytris as evil, as an imposing deity who takes pride in sending souls into The Void, and the Uddos is a perfect angel-like creature who never raises his voice.

But that cannot be further from the truth.

They’re both even tempered, perfect, content deities who rule judgment over each and every soul on Addran. 

These are The Six. The Mighty Six. The Holy Six. The Great Six. 

There are six deities that watch over and protect their precious souls on Addran.

And every single one has abandoned you. 

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

A strong, iron grip on your hair yanks your head backwards out of the large vat of water it was shoved in. Immediately, you gasp for air, the water cascades down your face and into your eyes which you can’t wipe due to your hands being bound behind your back.

“Let us try this again.” Seungmin’s voice sounds so different. It’s cruel and sends a chill down your spine. It lacks all the warmth you’ve grown to love.

You’re too busy gasping for air to notice how his hand loosens in your hair. 

“You are one of Bang’s court members, yes?”

No answer comes from your mouth. When your lips part, coughs and sputters fill the air. Your knees hurt so bad from kneeling on the stone in front of the water basin. 

The brown, murky water that he keeps shoving you into was clean when he first started. All the filth that now floats within it came from your own body.

He roughly jerks your head to get your attention. “Yes?” he repeats in a gruff tone.

“Rot in the Void,” you spit out and you swear you can hear Seungmin curse under his breath before your head is shoved back into the water basin.

There’s only just enough time for you to suck in a gasp of air before you’re plunged back into the filth below you.

This is the fifth time your head is submerged and you’re already feeling your spirit begin to shatter. 

Both of your hands clench into fists as you’re held down. Every single time he plunges your head down into the water, Seungmin manages to rip you out right before your lungs start to burn.

He’s doing this on purpose, you know this. If this was a different torturer, you would be gagging and begging for mercy already. But, right now, in this strange, demented, cruel twist of fate, you’re not the only one being tortured while your head is underwater.

Again, when you’re yanked out of the basin, you take a huge gulp of air and then quickly exhale, the water from your lips spraying out into the cell.

“You are not holding her down long enough,” Allerick says from off to the side. His voice is moving behind you as he circles around your body.

“It is plenty long given how broken her body is,” Seungmin replies to him. You can hear the reluctance in his voice, it’s a tone that you know but Allerick does not.

“All you are doing is giving her the first bath she has had in weeks.”

“We do not want to kill her.”

“Obviously. But your method is not working, Skye. She still has too much fight in her.” Allerick’s voice comes up right behind you. The heat from both men’s bodies radiate down to your brittle bones. “I thought you were an expert.”

“I am,” Seungmin growls back.

“Your methods are not working.”

“Did you think she would crack within the first five minutes? She killed half your battalion herself.” 

Allerick scoffs. “As much as I would love a show. We need information, and we need it now.”

“I told you I will get it.”

“Then prove it. Break her.”

Seungmin’s hand twitches in your hair before it tightens more.”In due time, Allerick–”

“No. Now. I need information now. ” Allerick interrupts him with a loud command and Seungmin’s hand yanks your head back sharply.

A hiss pulls from your lips at the sting and before you can even think twice, you’re plunged back into the basin.

Why is he so pressed for information? What deadline has been created for Erbus that he desperately needs you to talk?

Time ticks by and eventually your lungs let out the air that they were able to suck in before you were shoved down. The bubbles come out of your mouth and nose and pop at the surface.

It’s about thirty seconds in when your lungs start to burn.

It’s ten seconds after that when you realize that he truly has to break you now. Panic starts to set in– a natural instinct to being drowned.

As if you weren’t already broken enough.

Every single one of your limbs start to go cold, the lack of oxygen quickly spreading through your body. Instincts kick in and your body attempts to sit up. Your feeble muscles begin to push against the binds around your wrists.

Seungmin’s hand twitches on your head. He wants to yank you up just as much as you, but he can’t . You can practically feel his desperation in the way he’s gripping your hair.

Your body convulses under his hold, your shoulders shaking and chest sputtering. Underneath you, your knees jerk so violently that one slams into the metal. You want to scream, you want to move, but his hold is so firm.

Mercy. Mercy! Mercy! 

Every single one of your muscles spasms violently as you fight your natural instincts to inhale water. But it’s to no avail, your mouth opens and you gulp down a mouthful of filthy water.

That’s when you’re yanked from the water.

The sludge you inhaled is immediately vomited back up into the bin. Tears stream down your face as you cough and vomit and try to breathe at the same time.

“I will ask you again,” Seungmin’s voice wavers at the end. His hand is shaking in your hair. “You are one of Bang’s court members, yes ?”

Once everything is vomited back up, you’re coughing and heaving. The only reason you haven’t collapsed forward is because the rogue is holding you up by your scalp.

You can’t even form words, so you simply nod, drool and saliva drip from your lips.

“There it is,” Allerick says under his breath.

“Now that was not so hard, was it?” Seungmin hisses. “Now, let us start here: as a court member, you have access to the battle plans, no?”

You stay silent, your eyes slowly opening and staring blankly in front of you.

“Maybe you did not hear me.” Seungmin shoves your head down towards the water, not plunging you in yet, but close enough where you can now smell the horrid stench coming out of the water basin.

Not only does it have the filth from outside your body, but also inside.

An involuntary whimper comes out of your chest as you try to recoil away from the water basin.

“If you really did not want to go back in, you will answer the questions, Y/N. Plain and simple.”

Your energy is fading, your eyes are unfocusing on their own. Even though you’ve been plunged into water, your mouth is incredibly dry. 

Opening your mouth, you say the only thing you have energy to say.

“Fuck you.”

Allerick scoffs. It’s the only thing you hear before you’re underwater again.

The fear grasps your heart much quicker than it did last time. You would think after experiencing it once, you would be less afraid, but no, your body begins to shake and convulse much quicker than last time. 

You’re held down even longer this time. When the water enters your lungs, it has a moment to really sit in there before Seungmin takes you out.

Again, you vomit and cough and sputter and heave everything out of your body.

It burns.

By the Six, it burns so fucking bad. 

When did you start sobbing? 

Wails leave your throat as you cry and heave forward over the basin.

Now you’re sure that Seugmin’s hand is shaking in your hair.

“E-Enough…! Please!” Hyunjin’s voice cries out from the corner. It almost sounds like he’s sobbing too. Really, you had forgotten he was in the cell with you.

“Shut it, dagger ear!” Allerick barks at him. “Unless you want to trade places, I suggest you shut your filthy fucking mouth.”

Your chest is still heaving when Allerick leans down close in your ear. “Answer. The questions. Y/N.” His voice sends a chill down your spine. It curdles your blood and feels like poison in your veins.

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. You’re already drained. They’ve only been at this for an hour, at most. But you can feel every single ounce of life drained out of your soul.

“Be a good girl for us, little mouse, and tell us exactly what we need.” He talks to you softly now. You watch his entire face soften and change into what you remember it looking like. The look in his eye is what you used to see every day when you were a youngling.

All those days under the sun in the back of the Fighter’s Guild come to mind. The feeling of his larger hand tightly clasped over yours as he teaches you how to hold a sword. The meals you two used to eat together at the wooden picnic table. 

“Come on, little mouse, do it for me.”

Would it be so bad to just give up?

Is any of this really worth it? What’s the point of hanging on when they’re just going to kill you anyway? If they kill you, you won't ever have to see Chan’s disappointed face when they find out you caved.

“Tell us who your allies are, Y/N.”

You blink slowly at Allerick. He’s still looking at you like you’re a child.

When you were a little elfling. And he didn’t even know it. That’s when the thought hits you: what would he have done to you if he found out you were an elf? What sort of sick torture would he have enacted upon an innocent, little being?

The very thought boils your blood. It stokes the dying fire within your soul. It creates a small spike of energy that you intend to use. 

Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you quickly spit it directly into his face. 

Allerick recoils back. His face quickly twists and morphs into one of pure hatred . It’s a face you’ve never, ever been looked upon with before. It makes your heart stop.

He stands up quickly, wiping your spit from his face. And in one instant, he slams his boot down on your ankle. 

A scream tears out of your throat as the bone is snapped in half.

Allericks’ hand grasps the back of your head, replacing Seungmin’s and he shoves you back into the water, your body still writhing in pain and screaming in agony.

You don’t have the place of mind to not inhale the water. It happens instantly and every single movement your muscles make from that moment on is completely involuntary.

Convulsions and spasms wrack your body as you inhale water. The burning sensations from before are nothing compared to now. It’s like your entire body is on fire, right down to your fingertips.

In the distance, you can hear voices screaming at each other. 

The spasms begin to slow down as your body finally gives up. The hand on your head remains firm, but eventually, you lose all fight against it and your body falls down completely in the water as your mind blanks out.

If you’re yanked out of the water, you don’t know it. 

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

The burning, searing pain in your ankle is the first thing you notice. The second is the whimpering and crying coming from somewhere else in the room.

“Really? You are not going to tell us either?” 

Your brain won’t work. It;s like you’re coming out of the world’s longest nap. 

The floor underneath your slumped over body is so cold. Your body is on it’s side; underneath your face it feels wet. And it smells absolutely horrible.

“I-I am not telling you anyth- AH! ”

The scream is preceded by a snap! The very sound sends a chill down your spine and brings you further out of your stupor.

A cough tears through your chest and after a second, vomit is choked up with it. Acting on it’s on, your body turns over and you gag up water, spitting it onto the floor.

No one in the room seems to pay any mind to you.

Tiny sobs and pleads come from the center of the room.

“We will stop when you tell us what we need to know. Now, tell us who your allies are.” Each work is punctuated by the sound of punches.

More cries fill the cell. Your heart twists. No response comes out, only sobs and begs for mercy. 

After a few seconds of silence, one of the two men sigh. “We are not getting anywhere, Skye.”

“They are stubborn corpses, I will give them that.”

Skye. Seungmin. Skye. Seungmin. Skye. Seungmin.

Allerick. He’s with Allerick. Gods, you’re so confused. Why does everything feel difficult? You’re in a jail cell. You’re being tortured. You were waterboarded. 

It sounds like Seungmin turns and looks at you. Your body has already collapsed back down in the pool of your own tears and vomit. Your chest is heaving up and down, breathing in air shakily.

“I need a break. The smell in here is making me want to vomit,” Allerick grumbles and his boots walk towards the cell door. “Lock them back up. We will have to try something different.”

“Fine,” Seungmin grumbles and waits until a door opens and closes before it sounds like he falls to his knees in the middle of the jail cell. A short sob leaves his lips that he quickly muffles with his hand.

You have to give him credit. You would not have been able to keep it together if you were in his position.

“Hyunjin.. Hyunjin..” he chokes out. There’s some more movement within the cell.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin response shakily. “Check— Check on her. I am alive. Please check on her.”

There’s shuffling in the room and suddenly you’re enveloped in warmth. A trembling body lifts you into their arms with equally as shaky hands. You have no control over your muscles, they just feel like dead weight on your body.

“Y/N,” Seungmin sobs out. “Open your eyes, mercenary, please. Please open your eyes.”

A coughing fit crawls up your throat. Seungmin acts quickly and turns you on your side just in time for you to vomit once more.

He grips you tightly, you can feel his body shaking as he sobs. “Oh, gods, I am so sorry, Y/N. I am so sorry. Six, please forgive me, Y/N, forgive me,” he rambles on and on with apologies. 

After your stomach and lungs are empty, he rolls you onto your back once more.

“Please, Y/N, open your eyes. Please, Six, please,” he begs with a hoarse voice. His fingers are gripping onto you so tightly, you’re sure it’ll leave bruises in your fragile, thin skin.

With strength you didn’t know you had, you crack your eyes open just enough to look up at Seungmin’s sobbing face. His eyes fly around your features, taking everything in. His hand comes up and cups your cheek.

Once you two make eye contact, he begins to cry even harder. “Y/N, please forgive me, please. I did not want this, I did not want to do this plan. It– It is only going to get worse. You have to start answering the questions, Y/N. Even if they are lies , you need to answer them!”

Gods, your ankle is positively throbbing.

“I should never have agreed to this, The Six know I am not strong enough for any more of this.”

His face should never look like this. He’s crying harder than you thought was possible for a man like him; someone who always has a knowing smirk on his face. No, no, it shouldn’t be like this. He should be teasing you.

Shakily, you bring your hand up and hold the one he has on your cheek.

Words won’t come out of your throat right now, but more is conveyed through this little grasp than anything you could possibly say right now.

Seungmin’s lip quivers and he rubs his thumb over your cheek, letting his built up tears from the day pour out and down his cheeks. 

There’s no other way anymore. 

He needs to do this. Hyunjin needs to do this. You need to do this. 

Right now, it’s the only way out.

“Just a few more days, Y/N, I promise. Hang in there, you need to hang in there. Live, Y/N, live. Please. You can do this. Live.”

[tarithenurse]

Pirate's Bounty II

Fandom: MCU AU

Pairing/starring: 1st mate!Bucky x Pirate princess!reader

Word count: 1128

Content: Smut

A/N: Woopsie! Wrote a part 2. Hope you’re okay with that.

Pirate’s Bounty II

Sharing a room at the inn, the Pirate’s Cove, was Bucky’s idea of safety. Falling asleep fully dressed after the ball was not planned but she has slept wonderfully albeit rather brief.

Waking up, [Y/N]’s vaguely aware of the soft light coming through the curtains from the courtyard beyond. What’s more pressing, however, is the weight over her waist that holds her warm and snug against a hard shape behind her. Glancing around, she’s soon verified that it’s Bucky who has scooped her into his arm and drifted off on the comfortable bed before she woke.

Lying as still as she can, the captain considers disentangling herself but...it actually feels lovely. Safe. So instead she remains where she is, fingertips slowly caressing his knuckles until the light of dawn starts to fill the room and he wakes from his rest too.

Yawning. Stretching against her form. She can feel his muscles flex and his hip push against her behind, causing her to remember that night on the deck.

“Good morning,” the young woman whispers.

“Morning.” He pulls her closer, then freezes at the realization. But: “Shit, I fell asleep!”

She twists to look at him. “That’s what you take from this?”

He doesn’t bother to look sheepish even as he maintains his grip. “Figured I’d feel if you tried to sneak away.”

There’s a certain logic to it, of course, as offensive as it may be to be called out on something she very well might have done just months ago. But now no longer.

“I know I can’t do that,” she admits, turning her head away.

“You’ll get your freedom back some day,” he offers surprisingly kind.

She sighs. “And until then you’ll watch my back.”

“Please!” he grins mischievously, “I’ll watch all of you.”

“Bucky!” But she can’t help laughing softly.

He bends down, finding her mouth with his lips even as he mumbles a “pardon me, m’lady” against her.

She’s soft and pliable, greedily taking what he offers even as his large hand begins to roam, slipping under the soft top to explore the swell of her breasts before sliding along her hip and slowly but surely hoisting up the skirt.

“Get rid of this,” he growls, giving up on the many thin layers that keep sliding back.

[Y/N] gets to her feet, suddenly insecure but also driven by a need she’s only felt a few times now. Slipping the skirt down, she steps out of it as it pools on the floor, leaving her in naught but the top and her undies and that top is the next to go, slowly lifted over her head to bare her form to a hungry looking 1st mate. She’s about to get back into the bed when he shakes his head.

“All of it,” he demands.

Stepping back, she slides the little bit of modesty she has left down her legs, revealing all of her.

“And now?” she asks, voice whispier than she wants.

Getting over to her, Bucky allows his hands to brush down her arms before skimming up her sides to cup her breasts once more.

“Those bastards have no idea what they’re missing out on,” he growls, referring to her suitors

“Please don’t make me think of them now,” [Y/N] pleads.

He grins cockily. “Oh, I’ll take your mind off things.”

Next thing she knows, she’s been more or less tossed onto the bed, automatically spreading her legs to cradle Bucky between them even as he holds himself off of her.

This time the kiss is hungry. Searing. All teeth and tongue, little bites that wander down her jaw and onto her neck while her fingers tangle in his hair. She gasps when he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling gently but hard enough to sting just a little and she knows she’s done for as the pressure within her increases, begging for more. Like a knot wanting to be cut.

But for one as brusque and direct, Bucky takes his time teasing and winding her up until she’s a whining mess, begging for more although his mouth and hands have been everywhere.

“More?” he double checks, looking up from where he’s kneeling between her legs, lips glistening from her juices. “Are you certain?”

She whimpers. “Yes. More. There must be more.”

About ready to cry when he steps out of the bed, the young woman is quickly silenced as she sees him untie his trousers revealing something she’s only seen once in real life and that in a different state. Now his cock stands erect, proud. Bobbing slightly at the newfound freedom but mostly scaring her with the sheer size.

“Come here,” he steps closer, reaching for her hand.

With him, she touches his erection for the first time, feeling how silken the skin is despite the hardness of the member. She explores, learning how it pulses when she touches beneath the head that’s a dark purple and slowly it becomes less scary.

Making her scoot over, Bucky lies down and guides his lover on top of him, slowly showing her how to pump the cock between her hands until she finds a rhythm that makes his eyes fall shut and the large man groan in pleasure.

“Fuck yeah...”

But he doesn’t allow her to continue, instead repositioning her with the tip of the cock nestled in between her legs right at the entrance to her cunt.

“Take it slow,” he guides her, “a bit at a time.”

Her heart is hammering in her chest as she slowly sinks onto him, spearing herself on the blunt tip. The stretch burns but it’s delicious too and each inch earns her growled praises from Bucky. Rocking back and forth, she eventually can’t take any more, she feels, and when she looks down, she finds that she’s fully seated on his cock. So full.

“Yeah?” he asks her.

“Fuck,” she sighs, gently gyrating the hips to really feel him in her heat.

Large hands find her hips, help her find a rhythm again. Slow and steady up and down until her thighs are burning and her body tenses and she can’t breathe or see but only arch her back in ecstasy.

“So fucking beautiful,” she vaguely hears him growl.

Then her world spins and she finds her beneath him, legs wrapped around his hips that move with a new purpose, bringing her high once more at the same time as he stutters in the movements and growls into her neck something guttural. Something primal.

Bucky manages not to collapse onto the considerably smaller female, instead rolling them so she rests on top. There, they just lie, catching their breaths.

“That was...” [Y/N] tries to articulate, “that was...amazing.”

“Fuck yeah it was,” the 1st mate agrees.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

the sun + the sand- pt. two - peach

↳PAIRING: bff!rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:you have a stalker, but your best friend rafe won't let anything happen to you, even if he has to come clean about how he really feels.

↳WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, blackmail, inappropriate behavior (not from rafe), protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @illicitfixations + @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

You stood next to the fire, ruby red lips turned up into a smile as you laughed at something stupid one the two stooges had said. You had only come tonight to see Rafe, but as the minutes turned into hours and he still was nowhere to be found, you wondered if John B’s bed would make it sting any less – the promise of seeing Rafe was usually enough to numb everything else, but you couldn’t help to be hurt at his absence. He was the glue that held your broken heart together and tonight he was the hand that held the hammer as it crashed into the fragile glass of it. The jeans that clung to your waist in all the right ways were his favorite, you’d made sure to pick something out that would make you more appealing to the eye, to his eye. You weren’t an idiot, you knew you were beautiful, enough of the island boys had told you so. But, the one boy you wanted to hadn’t and you wondered sometimes if it was because he didn’t think you were. The self-conscious thoughts continued to bloom like flowers on a vine inside your head as you waited, pretending to laugh at Topper’s really bad jokes. You loved Topper, but he had never been funny and his constant trying made you want to gag.  

“I’m gonna get another drink.” 

You muttered, breaking the laughter that previously bellowed from deep within your belly. The boys nodded in your direction, saluting you with the cups in their hands as you made your way to the kegger. You stopped to stand in line and noted the girl in front of you had on a hot pink frilly tank top, one that you found rather beautiful and just as you went to tap her on the shoulder, you noticed Rafe wrap his arm around her from her side. She turned slightly and his eyes met yours, a shiver went up your spine. 

“Peach, what are you doing here?” 

He questioned, as if you hadn’t previously texted about meeting up in this exact spot. 

“Nothing, I was just leaving.” 

You spoke in a short manner, eyes locked on the ground again before you turned toward the trash can and threw your cup away. He didn’t chase after you like in the movies, though you wished he had and instead of wallowing in the despair that reality caused you, you went in search of your pogue prince. Rafe watched as you walked away, unsure of whether or not you wanted to be chased. He also wasn’t sure if he had the energy to chase you tonight. Would it be so wrong to look for love in someone else when you were never going to give him the time of day anyways? The thought left as quickly as it had come and he felt an immense amount of guilt for it, knowing that as selfish as he was, he could never stop loving you, not really. He watched your hips sway as you retreated from him and his eyes quickly darted locking eyes with none other than JJ Maybank as he stared at your figure crossing the beach in between sips out of a red solo cup. Rafe couldn’t put his finger on what it was, he just knew that the look JJ wore was sinister and something wasn’t right. 

-

You leaned up from the bed, your feet draping over the side as you planted them on the floor and moving to the wooden chair in the corner of John B’s room where your clothes lay. You wore his shirt, quickly taking it off as you slid your jeans and shirt back over your body. 

“Well that was fun.” 

He said with a sly smirk, laying on his side with one hand propping up his head. His floppy hair was dreamy and accentuated his features nicely, but it was nothing compared to Rafe’s. You pulled out your phone and texted Rafe, even though you were sure there was someone much more worthwhile lying underneath him. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about that detail at the moment, you just wanted to get away from the situation you were in. 

Peach:  It’s okay if you’re busy and can’t, but can you pick me up? 

“Yeah.” 

You finally responded, voice monotone, lacking any real sense of enjoyment. Because frankly, you weren’t enjoying it. John B was cute but five minutes in and he was cumming, not caring anything about your needs. You thought that after the first time, it couldn’t get worse so you continued seeing him, but you were wrong and you had yet to get any real release. You made your way out of the makeshift fishing shack and pulled up Rafe’s contact again as you made your way down the steps. 

Rafey: Sorry, I can’t. 

Rafe felt guilt rise in the bottom of his stomach, leaving you stranded. 

Peach: Okay :) 

You responded almost instantaneously and that worried him, the thought of you being so urgent for his answer led his brain down a rabbit hole. 

Rafey: I can send someone to get you. Send me your location. 

He replied, hoping that his offer would be enough to make you feel safe. 

Peach: it’s okay, i can walk 

The thought of you walking anywhere after eleven pm made him sick to his stomach, especially with the way JJ had previously been staring at you and speaking of JJ – where the fuck was he? He wondered as he looked around the party, unable to spot him. 

Rafey: Walk?? From where?? 

He questioned, bile rising up in his throat at the thought of you being vulnerable and unknowing of the danger that loomed in the night. 

Peach: John’s. 

You replied, but he already knew the answer. The Life 360 app on his phone giving your location away.

Rafey: Stay there, I’m coming. 

Peach: It’s okay, I don’t want to ruin your night. Have fun, I'll see you tomorrow. 

The text made you uneasy, as you felt guilty ruining another night for him. You knew deep down he didn’t view it that way, but it didn’t make you feel any less shitty. 

Rafey: Dammit, y/n. Stay there. 

-

Like every other day, you didn’t listen to Rafe. Instead, you started your seven mile walk home, disappointed that Rafe had told you no. He had never told you no before, even when he was caught up with Ward, so it must’ve meant he was having a good time with the girl from the party. You shrugged it off, as you continued walking, the heels you had worn to the party leaving blisters on the backs of your heels like bruises against abused skin. You looked at your feet as you walked, trying not to let yourself wallow in the despair of it all. Though, you hoped that wherever Rafe was and whoever he was with, that he was happy. You didn’t have time to blink before you heard tires screech as they passed you, slamming on breaks quickly. You looked up, taking in the midnight blue truck that was etched into your brain – that would always linger like a tattoos kiss; it was Rafe and you smiled to yourself that he came. But, you were angry at yourself that you had ruined yet another night for him. You wondered why he hadn’t discarded you like everyone else and why he was always the hero of your story; you wondered if he always would be. You looked back and kept walking, deciding that the most selfish thing that you could do was get in the truck and while usually that wouldn’t bother you, you wouldn’t let it happen tonight. He turned his vehicle around, and began riding beside you on the pavement. 

“Sweetheart, get in the truck.” 

He spoke softly, yet it was a command and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You felt your knees grow weak, but couldn’t bring yourself to look at him so you did what any self respecting simp would, you kept walking. 

“y/n, get in the truck.” 

He spoke again, with a deeper growl and more command. This was the voice he used during team huddles and when he was angry with Sarah. He had only used it on you a few times and the fact that he was using it on you tonight, meant that he was angry and the thought of him being angry at you brought tears to your eyes. You kept walking wanting the feeling of your skin crawling to cease immediately. He watched as your shoulders slumped, unsure of what was plaguing you, he just knew something was wrong. So, he threw the truck in park and climbed down, catching up to your moving frame. It wasn’t hard with the blisters that littered your feet. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face him, taking in your flushed cheeks and the tears that were cascading down them, he placed your cheeks in his hands. 

“What’s the matter, peach?” 

He asked, his voice as soft as it could possibly be. You swallowed thickly before attempting to look down at your feet, but he stopped you, bringing your chin up with his forefinger and thumb. 

“Peach, baby, what’s the matter? Did John B hurt you?” 

Your eyes went wide in response and you quickly shut down that notion, knowing what Rafe was capable of when it came to the people he loved. 

“Uh, no. No, not really. I hurt myself.” 

He looked confused as he scoured your body for cuts, bruises, and broken bones. 

“Where, sweetheart? Why didn’t you call? Did you fall? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” 

He asked urgently, the words flying from his mouth like a bat flying out of hell’s grasp. 

“No, I’m fine. I mean emotionally, I hurt myself.” 

“What happened?” 

He questioned. 

“Nothing that I didn’t already expect.” 

You muttered. 

“Why do you let these boys treat you so badly, sweetheart?” 

He questioned, kindly, dropping his large frame in front of your face, pushing the hair away from your face. 

“Because no one else wants me.” 

You whispered into the cool October air, shivering and Rafe took off his pullover, draping it over your form. 

“What did you just say?” 

He asked, shocked at your revelation. You couldn’t meet his eye, swallowing thickly as you dropped your gaze to your feet. 

“Come on, Rafe. I know what people say.” 

You said, flatly. 

“And what do they say, peach?” 

He questioned, innocently, though, probing you to be vulnerable with him. 

“That I’m a – you know what.” 

You grimaced as the words left your lips. 

“What do they say, y/n?” 

He asked, more urgently. 

“That I’m a slut, okay? You’re not stupid, you know what they say and you know that’s why no one but pogues like me. That’s why I don’t even like myself!” 

You finally shouted back at him, frustratedly as you cried. 

“Hey, come on, you know that’s not true, Peach.” 

He cooed, pulling you into his warm embrace and placing a kiss on your temple. You couldn’t do anything but cling to him in that moment, scared that he’d see you for what you truly were, scared that he'd change his mind. For a moment, you had the boy you loved in your arms and you didn’t want him to go away again. 

As always, if you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know <3

[lemotmo]

I'm not sure how you feel about getting these anymore but I thought this was hilarious so wanted to share for you at least to read even if you don't want to post. 😊

Q. I really was trying to hold onto the belief that the show wasn't going to make Eddie gay but it's really hard to see what other storyline is possible given those latest Ryan interviews. I would love to say gay or not the show would just keep Buck and Eddie as platonic best friends but there is zero chance of the show not pairing them together. They really did just use my man as filler until they were ready to tell the Eddie story. That's so gross.

A. Well, anon that's the point of a plot device. Their only reason for being is to move a larger story forward. By definition their filler characters. They have no individual significance or purpose. Their purpose is the story they're being used in. I've been telling you this for months now. Many of us have. He was never going to be anything more than a plot device. The show wasn't subtle about it either. It's been pretty much a connect the dots picture of plot device usage. Go back and watch his scenes in season 7 with this new found realization and I promise it will not be hard to see. And I agree, especially with the context the latest Ryan interviews gave, there's really not any other story it could be. He also confirmed they're not turning him into the new Bobby, and he's not siding with Gerard. So it was nice of him to debunk the latest round of ridiculous takes during the interview. If I could offer you a suggestion though I would encourage you to give the story a chance. If you pay attention to Eddie, and not your fandom people telling you to hate him, you will like him. After all there's a reason you all tried to hijack his entire backstory and history for Tommy. Let yourself enjoy the character those things actually belong too. Let yourself enjoy the actual story.

Oh Nonny! I feel joyous and happy whenever I get another of these posts in my ask box. While I'm asking people to not ask Ali any questions through my blog, I'm still perfectly happy posting her asks here. 😋

Especially since, for most of us, this is the only way to read Ali's posts and we do love her posts very much. So don't hesitate to drop something in my ask box. The only things I don't post about are the direct posts about the BT fandom, but Ali has told me she isn't replying to those posts anymore anyway, so that eliminates that problem.

As for the ask itself...

Yeah, so many of us have been saying this since day one. Tommy was only ever there to help Buck out of that closet. He was never really meant to be anything more than that. Sure, the change of the storyline because of the early renewal, gave Tommy some more time on the show, but that's where it ends.

So yeah, going back to rewatch the previous seasons, knowing what you know now? It will change the way you see Eddie and Eddie and Buck's friendship and maybe you'll find some joy in them. Just let it happen.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[awrkive]

PLS SHARE THE DOYEON CONFESSION SCENE DRABBLE PLS RACHEL SEND IT TO US X🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

summary: tlp drabble #1 where doyeon confesses to jk in first year med school

w/c: 1.5k

note: this ask was sent a few days ago and i actually already have this drabble in the drafts so.... yes 🤓i welcome u to the ribbon cutting ceremony of the unlocking of a new tag in awrkive nation: tlp drabbles

Doyeon believes that she’ll only live until sixty-five – seventy, if luck’s on her side. Ultimately, she’s firm on her stand that life is short and everybody needs to get off whatever is on their chest before it’s too late. 

It’s why when she sees Jungkook arriving in Moon’s Printing Shop – where their study group holds their sessions – she sits upright and fixes her already neatly piled books and notes on the table once again, preparing herself.

Just ask the question and get over it quickly. She reminds herself.

“Where’s __?” Is the first thing that comes out of Jungkook’s mouth, taking off the straps of his backpack and setting it down on the chair across hers, as well as some of his bound reviewers and iPad. 

Doyeon raises her brow.

It’s weird when Jungkook does that. Asking about you whenever and wherever when you’re not around. She knows you were friends first before you both found her, and you are close – it’s second nature at this point. Still, Doyeon can’t help but be a little suspicious.

But she decides to ignore that, not wanting to put malice in Jungkook’s intentions because it would be unfair to him. She doesn’t want to be that kind of person who thinks that men and women can’t be purely platonic. You’re just good friends, is all.

Though, she definitely did assume that you both were a couple the first time she saw you. Physiology had just ended and Jungkook said he needed to go to the next floor to meet someone for lunch. Doyeon asked to tag along, and that was the first time she met you. Fast forward, you actually weren't his girlfriend. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Jungkook blushed though when she asked him about it.

Glancing at her phone, she sees the empty notification bar, indicating that you haven’t replied to her text from twenty minutes ago. 

“She said she was coming. Twenty minutes ago. She also said it’s okay if we start without her.” Doyeon responds, and she watches as Jungkook settles on his seat, nodding at her.

He goes for his own phone, clicks on it as if also texting you himself. 

Doyeon watches him with furrowed brows. Jungkook is definitely… conventionally attractive. He sports a medium-length hair, is quite tall, and has a good sense of fashion – even now when he’s just wearing the university hoodie and a pair of baggy sweatpants, he looks good. Naia from Physiology has been asking about him.

Doyeon has had a few crushes from highschool to college, and she thinks Jungkook might be her first in post-grad school. 

She’s been thinking about it for a while… though, she’s only known him for two months. Still. He looks good, and most of all, he’s nice. He let her borrow a pen from him the first day they met and was extremely friendly. 

And also really smart. Doyeon likes that most about him. 

Doyeon rids her head off the thoughts.

“Anyway. Anatomy.” She starts flipping through her book, ready to start the session. But she remembers about what she has to say to him.

Oh, well. She's already mentioned Anatomy and studying. Might as well put off the confession for a few more days. The exam is more important.

Putting his phone down, Jungkook looks through his book as well. "Midterms is next week, right?"

Doyeon nods. “Yeah... and brachial plexus is convoluted to me.” 

“Oh, yeah. Threw me off at first, too,” Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head to himself. He grabs a piece of paper. “You just really have to figure out how the branches and divisions work. Let me show you something,” 

Jungkook turns the paper to Doyeon’s direction, and with a pen, he sketches out a simple diagram of the brachial plexus, starting with the roots, then moving to the trunks, divisions, cords, and finally the terminal branches.

“Okay, so it starts here with the roots— C5 to T1. Think of it like the beginning of a tree. Then these roots combine into trunks,” He scribbles it, and then looks at Doyeon for awhile, making sure she’s still following. She gives him a slight nod. He smiles. “Annnd, there’s the superior, middle, and inferior trunks… and they split into anterior and posterior divisions.” 

He’s talking calmly, methodical in his words. He simplifies such a complex system with clear, organized steps, and this makes Doyeon lean closer, impressed not only by Jungkook’s understanding but by how easily he breaks it down.

When Jungkook’s done explaining, Doyeon leans back to her chair. “That is a really neat diagram.” She looks at the original illustration that the lecturer presented a few weeks ago, and when Jungkook sees that, he laughs lightly. 

“Yeah, that diagram is just a mess. But it does click when you just think of it like a pathway—kind of like navigating through a map,” As if he remembers something, he lights up a little. “And oh, __ also taught me a mnemonic. You just have to remember the terminal branches, MARMU. Musculocutaneous, Axillary—’

“Radial, Median, and Ulnar nerves.”

Jungkook grins. “Exactly.” 

Nodding her head, she starts to do the same drawing on her notes. 

A few minutes passed, comfortable silence hanging in the air. Doyeon had kept on looking up from her book to Jungkook, who’s diligently reading and scribbling on his iPad. 

She remembers the confession again.

Doyeon can't help it. She has to ask. Now.

“Hey,” she calls.

Jungkook looks up from his device. “Hm?” 

“I have to ask you something.”

With a raised brow, Jungkook says, “You look serious. I’m a little scared.”

She furrows her brows and he chuckles, telling her to continue. 

“Are you dating somebody?” Doyeon asks straight ahead. There’s no need to tiptoe around it. She just has to get it out of her system before it becomes worse.

Obviously taken aback and not expecting the question at all, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth like fish in water. 

“... no?” 

“You’re not sure?” Doyeon asks, confused.

Jungkook stammers. “No, I mean— yes. No. I’m not dating anybody,” He raises a brow at her. “Why?” 

Doyeon nods. 

“I like you. Are you interested in going out with me?”

Doyeon waits. She watches as Jungkook seems to freeze in his seat, his hand holding his apple pencil pausing mid-air; mouth agape, eyes widened a bit. 

She waits for a few seconds, still not getting an answer from Jungkook. 

“Okay.” Doyeon says after the stretched-out silence, going back to her book.

Well. That was worth the shot. At least she's let it out now. 

“I—what?” Jungkook splutters, sounding incredulous. “What do you mean you like me? Like, like? And you want to go out with me?” 

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Offer is now off the table. Let’s get back to studying.” 

“What— were you even serious?” Jungkook insists. “Was that a prank or something?” 

With furrowed brows, Doyeon looks at him quizzically. “Why would I joke about something like that?” 

“Because…” He trails off, then his shoulders deflate after a few seconds. “I don’t know.” 

“Okay?” When Doyeon sees him with a pouty expression on his face, she can’t help but frown. “Don’t think too much about it, Jungkook. It’s not serious. I just wanted to ask. You gave me an answer. That’s it.” 

“I didn’t give you an answer, though?” 

“Your silence meant enough.” Jungkook doesn’t say anything. She nudges his foot under the table. “Come on, don’t be weird about this.”

Sighing, Jungkook nods his head. “Alright.” 

A few beats of silence, and Doyeon remembers something. “Don’t ever mention this to anybody, not even __, you understand me?” 

He blinks at her. “Okay.” 

Doyeon can’t say the next few minutes weren’t awkward. She felt Jungkook looking up at her every now and then, as if checking up on her. By then, she started to feel the hairs on her body prickle. Is he thinking she’s like, in love with him, or something? 

“Hello!” Doyeon looks up from her notes to see you walking in the door. “Hi Doyeon, hi Jungkook!” you cheerfully greet them both with a bright smile. 

Doyeon thinks your smile is contagious, so she mirrors your it as well. When her gaze falls to Jungkook, that’s when she takes note of it. 

The way his eyes suddenly light up at your arrival. It's not the first time it happens. He has that look every single time you're in the room.

Jungkook instantly goes over to you to help you with the books you’re carrying. When he sets them down on the table, he empties the chair beside him so you can settle down on it, which you do. 

“You’re late. Where were you?” Jungkook asks, and Doyeon doesn’t know if it was supposed to be subtle— but he definitely scooted his chair closer to yours, leaning his elbow to the table and twisting his body to your direction, giving you his undivided attention.

“Oh, just good old traffic. I made a quick trip to a cafe,” you wave him off. Lifting your hand, Doyeon looks at the cup holder you’re holding. “I bought coffee. Doyeon, do you like iced americano?”

“Uh, yeah,” Doyeon smiles shyly. She’s still shy around you. She doesn’t know why. “Thank you. I’ll venmo you.” 

There’s an instant frown on your face. With a pout, you take the cup holder close to your chest, an offended expression on your face. “No, it’s a treat. Don’t venmo me anything.” 

Doyeon can’t help but chuckle. 

“Okay.” 

Your huge grin returns and you give her the cup of iced americano. Turning to Jungkoon who looks like he’s eagerly waiting for his own, you raise a brow at him, saying, “And this one's for you. But double the price.”

Jungkook frowns. 

You both end up arguing again. It’s light-hearted and good-natured, that’s what Doyeon thinks. Your friendship is just… bizarre like that. 

But as she sits across from you, watching both your and Jungkook’s interaction, Doyeon realizes something. 

She should’ve known. She’s always thought about it. She wanted to ignore her hunch because again, she thinks women and men can be friends – but that is hard to uphold when Jungkook is so painfully obvious. 

Oh, brother. Doyeon internally shakes her head. Jungkook definitely likes you.

[writtenjewels]

Maternity Ward part 4

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Salim found his thoughts drifting to the Kolcheks. Specifically his new friend Jason. He liked being friendly with the couples he worked with, but this felt different somehow. He didn't think he ever connected with someone so quickly. It made him worry a little that he was toeing the line of professionalism. He certainly never spent so much time before thinking of jokes to tell other expectant fathers. But surely putting Jason at ease wasn't a bad thing, and truthfully, it'd been fun to exchange in teasing banter with the man.

The next time he entered the room, he found Penny in the middle of a contraction. Jason was coaching her through it, holding her hand and counting out her breaths for her. Salim watched without interruption, curious to see how Jason handled this. By now the panic stage had likely passed, but it was still impressive how Jason calmly but firmly talked Penny through it.

“You did great,” Jason told her when it was over. “You only said 'fuck' fifty times.”

“I'm savin' those for when I gotta start pushing,” Penny retorted with a laugh.

“Can't wait.”

“May I come in?” Salim asked. Penny looked up and Jason turned. Jason's face lit up in a smile, his eyes brightening. Salim smiled back before turning his attention on Penny. “Let me check on how you're doing.”

“Glad to see ya, Doc,” she smiled. “Jason and I have a bet goin' and we need a neutral party.”

“Oh?” Almost subconsciously, his eyes flicked over to Jason.

“We're bettin' what song's gonna play on the radio,” he explained. “I'm bettin' somethin' from the 80's on and Penny's got from the 50's to the 70's.”

“What if it's classical?” Salim asked teasingly.

“Then we tuned into the wrong fuckin' station.” Jason said it so matter-of-factly that Salim laughed. Jason smirked back at him and turned on the radio. Salim recognized the song after a few notes. “Hah.” Jason pumped a fist. “Fuckin' 1980's!”

“It's the 70's!” Penny argued. “Help me out here, Doc.” He felt both of them staring at him, waiting on a verdict.

“1979. Still technically the 70's. You were close.” He directed this to Jason. Instead of looking upset, Jason just gaped at him.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“I like music.” Silence fell in the room with only the music to fill it. “I should get back to my rounds,” Salim announced. “I'll check on you later.”

“Hang on,” Penny protested. “Take Jason outta here so he can get me more snacks.” Jason shot her a look Salim didn't understand. With a grunt, Jason stepped out into the hall with Salim.

“You went through all those snacks already?” Salim asked him.

“She ate most of 'em.” The two started down the hall. “So,” Jason spoke up. “You like music?”

“Music kept me sane during medical school. I listened to it while I studied. I still listen to it whenever I need to relax, or feel energized, depending on the genre.”

“Me and Penn listened to a lot of music growin' up,” Jason remarked. “It's why I thought up the bet; thought it would help distract her.”

“It was a good idea.” Salim eyed him curiously. “You grew up together?”

Jason's lips quirked up in amusement. “Since the day I was born.”

Salim couldn't find the words. It was obvious now that he thought about it. The way they talked to each other, the similarities in the face and hair, why Jason always shied away whenever Salim examined Penny. Brother and sister. Salim felt like an idiot for not seeing it. They continued on to get snacks, his mind working through the information.

She's just his sister. The thought made him happy, but also strangely nervous.

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Substitute Teacher Steve Au

Delilah felt nervous. She ran into her little brother Paul in the hall because neither of them were looking in the correct direction...too nervous.

She hurried into her English class and grabbed her seat. The class's energy was off the charts. Everyone was chatting and gossiping.

"-sub! Can you believe THE St-"

"I just don't understand? Arent they fam-"

Uh oh. She thinks she understands now and pulls out her flip phone to type out a quick text to Paul to warn him. It's too late. He already texted her first.

"Code purple"

"Fuck."

"Language B!"

"Shit."

He laughs as he walks into the classroom. Someone slaps her shoulder as if they're trying to tell her "Hey! He looked in your direction!!!!"

Sitting on her teacher's desk is retired pop icon Steve Harrington. He lights up when he sees her looking at him and waves to her. He's waving so fast his hand is a blur.

"Del what the hell is happening?" Mandy, her best friend is looking at her expectantly.

"I-"

"Ok class! Attendance time!!"

'Adams'

'Andrews'

'Chase'

'Finch'

"Henderson!"

"..."

"C'mom B," he looks at her disappointed.

"Here," she grumbles.

A girl in the back raises her hand.

"Can this wait until after the attendance is taken?"

"Unfortunately not Mr. Harrington I just have to know, how do you know Delilah? Why do you call her B? I mean out of everyone we were not expecting you to be here for her." She says the last part kind of like a sneer.

Delilah knew she wasn't the most popular but she made a choice to stay out of the spotlight.

"Well...student-"

"Sam."

"Sam, I'm not here for Delilah."

Gasps went around the room.

"I'm also here for Paul!" His famous bright smile is shining bright. "He's getting his braces off today! Isn't that exciting! Gosh I remember when his dad got his off. Brings a tear to my eye."

Delilah sinks lower into her seat.

"As for the nickname-"

She shoots up, ramrod straight.

"Um Uncle Steve you don't really have to-"

"Now B it's nothing to be embarrassed about. When Del's mom was pregnant with Paul we told her that she wouldn't be the baby anymore. She was so frustrated that was the only name she responded to for six months!"

Sam pipes up again, "so B is short for-"

"Baby." Snickers went around the room. Delilah groans. "Obviously we couldn't go around calling her baby that's weird. So we shortened it, nickname. It also helps because she's baby Henderson, helps to distinguish the difference between them all."

Steve gives her a soft smile, like he's still imagining her as a toddler.

"As most of you may know I retired about five years ago along with my boyfriend." (Gay marriage was not legal yet but she's working on it.)

Josh's hand shoots up. "Your boyfriend famous metal musician Eddie Munson?"

"Yes student in the back, we decided it was time to retire and enjoy our time together. Then I got bored. I was always planning on being a teacher if music didn't work out so I became a sub. We have a house here to see the kids and I knew I wanted my first assignment to be one where I could see my favorite Hendersons."

Ok she can't be mad at him. She loves him so much and he obviously is just doing what he can to be closer to her.

"Uncle Steve-"

Uncle is whispered around the room.

"I appreciate you coming here but-"

"Henderson I'd appreciate it if you stayed after school to help me grade papers. I can give you a ride home. Uncle Eds is taking Paul to the orthodontist now so you don't have to worry about driving him."

Conveniently, beeping was heard outside along with the sound of a motor like an engine revving. The students all ran to the window to see what was going on and were shown Paul with his head down running to the convertible.

Poor kid. Everyone would be talking about this for at least a week.

Paul looked over at the window along with Eddie, when he saw Steve he blew him a kiss. As soon as Paul was buckled up he sped off.

Steve sighed wistfully and then headed back to the desk.

"Alright everyone! Let's learn!"

[what0smart]

Absolute Power:Superson thoughts!!!

Spoilers!!!!!!

As much as I would love to make an essay on this I don't think there's any way I could organize my thoughts enough for it to be good so I'm just gonna list out my thoughts on my favorite parts!

You can find my thoughts on the first 8 pages we got as previews here (page posting limit lol)

Nia understanding that while Jon often fights alone or for people, he desperately wants to fight alongside others or for them to fight for him.

This whole page is so great, I love the direct acknowledgement that Jon has been constantly fighting and all the times he had to fight alone. I will take the volcano and Ultraman where and whenever lol

Jon clearly has been suppressing his trauma and his constant fighting to make sure he doesn't lose anything like when he lost everything as a kid is clearly taking it's toll. Nia telling Jon he doesn't need to fight for everyone else constantly and it's okay to choose himself at times. This will come back in a conversation with Jay.

I am holding out having any feelings on this cause a large part of me refuses to believe DC would actually kill her, but if she is actually dead I'm gonna come back later and stare at this page in the saddest way possible.

He's so petty it kills me lmao

While it stresses me out to see them fight I love seeing them work through it, and it really shows the differences between them especially as this whole event has probably had a major impact on Jay in a negative way.

Jon realizing that he was trying to save the idea or memory of Nia over his Boyfriend after everything that's happened and deciding to prioritize what he wants, which is Jay. (more thoughts on this page at the end lol)

I think the Amazonians asking Jon for help was kind of a reminder to Jay of who Jon is at his core. Similarly to how Jon understood he probably can't dissuade Jay from hating Nia, I think Jay was reminded that Jon is just a forgiving and loving person, it is what drew Jay to Jon in the first place and that he shouldn't expect him to have the same reaction he has to Nia's death. I think Jay was going to say yes no matter what after this realization but I feel he normally would have thought about it more but decided to take that risk and give Jon a yes so he wouldn't be worried about it while in battle, you can see Jon flies away with a much more ready attitude.

Jon's "new place" is in his dreams, I had a worry Jon was just offering to live together with Jay because he thought it's what Jay would want but the fact that this is here means he has been dreaming of living in San Francisco for a while now, and the fact that Jay not being there destroying the dream really hits it home that being with Jay is what he wants. This is not Jon trying to make sure everyone in his life is happy at the cost of his own, this is Jon listening to what Nia told him to do and is choosing himself by following his dreams.

Final thoughts

Overall I really loved this issue and it really hit my expectations. It was very tough to follow at times but that's typical of dream sequences and this issue did it well, can't wait to see how Absolute Power ends and if Amanda will FINALLY face the consequences for her actions. I'll be holding out my comments on Nia until we know for certain she's dead, Nicole loves tormenting her characters so I wouldn't be surprised but I think she would also love to continue the beef between her and Jay. I'm extremely interested and hope Nicole or Sina do something in the future for Jay and Jon because right now they are probably the people at DC who I trust the most with the boys!!!

[luckyythirteen]

Do you have any hcs about STARS before the mansion incident? :)

i got a few!

- Wesker was a fair boss, everyone looked up to him. I like to think he butted heads with Irons a lot in the RPD due to Irons attempting to boss around his team.

- Speaking of that, one time Wesker had to break up a fight between Irons and Chris. Instead of reprimanding Chris he rounds on Irons and tells him "Don't ever lay a hand on one of my men again."

- While Barry was the father figure of the team, Wesker was very much the mentor and friend of the team. To keep up a personable facade he'd often talk with his team members and even pull them into his office to essentially let them vent if they were acting off.

- The team would often get together after work and try to persuade Wesker to hang out with them but 9/10 times he refused

- The times he would go though, if it was a night at the bar he was always a designated driver. They also learn to never play poker with wesker bcs he always wins, no one can read his dead eyes or expression

- had one (1) Christmas party where they had an ugly christmas sweater contest. Barry won.

- When Rebecca joined the team, Wesker admired her. Not in a sexual or romantic way, but he admired her intelligence and the fact she was a child prodigy

- If there was a case they took and it involved a child as a witness, Wesker usually would direct Barry or Chris as the one to talk to the child to get info/calm them down

- One time though that didn't work, so Wesker took matters into his own hands. He knelt down and took off his sunglasses and his tone becomes soft.

"I'm Captain Wesker. Are you feeling okay?"

The child stared at him with watery eyes and a vacant look he knew all too well as they shook their head.

"It must be scary, everyone surrounding you and asking questions you don't understand." Wesker said slowly. "You know, despite being the captain of the team, I'm scared too."

This caused the child to take a quick glance at him. "You are?"

Wesker nodded solemnly. "I am. The safety of my team and everyone else is my job. It's scary to not know what will happen next - so that's why I'm talking to you. You're very important and you're very brave, you know that? That's why I need your help. Can you tell me what you saw?"

- Everyone after is in utter SHOCK over the fact Wesker suceeded in making the kid talk.

- once the tension dies down they tease him about having a soft spot for months after

- wesker allowed the team members to bring games to the office (darts, cards etc)

- he regrets this decision when a dart lodged itself in his shoulder due to Richard's terrible aim one time