#throwing the whole gang here

[23fallencomets]

chapter four!

this took a while ngl and it’s a bit longer than usual but that’s because there’s a sliver of plot. enjoy reading and i’ll try to figure out when the next update will be 💞💞

[twitter]

user39: anyway do you guys remember the blackout of 2023

user40: babes i can NAWT do this rn

user41: the year-long blackout of logan sargeant

user42: wait what

user43: logan was being hella mistreated by his first agency that we genuinely had no way of knowing anything about him

user43: we knew he was okay when he briefly showed up in a reel Fred had posted towards the end of the year

user42: logan sued and won his case against the agency and we try not to bring it up

[instagram]

logansargeant made a new post

!los angeles

liked by oscarpiastri, olliebearman and 125,490 more

logansargeant: back to the city i go

oscarpiastri: all the way across the country again

logansargeant: win in spain and i’ll attend the triple header

oscarpiastri: deal

user42: bro!??

olliebearman: pls take me with you

kimi.antonelli: aren’t you supposed to be asleep??

olliebearman: aren’t you??

user44: oh my god it’s loscar all over again

arthur_leclerc: can’t believe you didn’t want me to go with you

logansargeant: you have testing in italy

charles leclerc: is this why you were looking for flights to la???

arthur_leclerc: logan’s la apartment is really nice 😞

[twitter]

logansargeantoffical made a new tweet!

user45: alright who are we fighting this week

user46: is it because of what that bitchass company is saying

user47: his old model agency?? didn’t he sue them or something??

user48: yeah, he sued them mid-2023 and won in december of the same year

user49: logan i beg you to go batshit crazy pls pls pls

[instagram]

logansargeant posted a story!

[twitter]

logansargeant made a new tweet!

logan snorts, only liam can grate oscar’s nerves like that. he’s thinking of a reply, wondering how far he can push his pr training. he doesn’t get to in the end, a message from his rep causing his heart to drop. the messages are half congratulatory and half concerned, but he’s more focused on the image.

logan turns his phone off, sliding it across the table and sighing. was he excited for the event? sure, he loves being able to support his community, even if he’s not openly out, his support has never been quiet.

the last thing he needed though, the very last thing on top of a mountain of responsibilities, was a blind item about him. the last one nearly ruined him and the very new and fresh relationship he had been in. despite things turning out okay, logan wasn’t and everything seems to come back to the stupid fucking account that nearly killed him.

his phone goes off, a one-two buzz before the continuous buzz of a call. he debates letting it ring before deciding against it and grabbing his phone.

the smiling picture of oscar gets him to answer it, holding the phone up to his ear.

“are you coming?” is the first thing oscar says, voice still thick with sleep. something tugs at logan, fondness, contentment and the ever-consuming knowledge that he’s horribly in love with his best friend.

“you made pole didn’t you.” logan says back, keeping his eyes on the laptop in front of him. it had gone dim while he contemplated his existence, the email he was in the middle of replying to ignored in favor to talk to oscar.

“mhm, don’t accept lawson’s offer.”

logan laughs, “lawson. you’re ridiculous, piastri.”

he can almost see oscar roll his eyes, “he’s lawson until he apologizes.”

“did you have to threaten him.”

oscar scoffs, “it wasn’t a threat, lolo, it was a promise.”

logan taps the touchbar of his laptop, saving the email reply before navigating his way to mark webber’s email address, cc’ing oscar on it.

“there’s a blind item about me.” he says quietly, “again.”

the call goes silent and logan knows that any residual sleep oscar had has been wiped. there’s rustling on the other side, the ping of oscar receiving the email does nothing to calm logan’s perpetual anxiety.

“god, like the last one wasn’t enough.” oscar snarks, “nearly six months of court visits and questionings and fuck-all investigations.”

2023 wasn’t a good year, half of it being because of Emmeris, the agency logan worked under. the nearly murderous hours, managers and employees that treated their guests like dolls, something to break down and mold to their liking. the other half was about the blind item, that logan was dating an indy driver, a childhood friend of his. the thing was that he was, the relationship itself last three more months before logan called it off. kyle called it dumb, but logan knew it would only be a matter of when it could follow him onto track.

“it’s about us,” logan adds on, “you’re the only one of our friends on the grid, liam and fred don’t count because they are reserve drivers.”

he can hear the cogs in oscar’s mind turn, always trying to be one step ahead, to navigate himself out of a car crash. the car crash in this situation being logan, again.

“let them think what they want.” oscar said, “we can talk about it when you get here, and we can face it together, just like we did last year.”

“with or without liam?”

oscar laughs, “without him this time, please, i do not want him hanging all over you again.”

[instagram]

logansargeant posted a story!

logansargeant made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, liamlawson30 and 289,678 more

logansargeant: home

oscarpiastri: watch me win

logansargeant: literally sitting in the mclaren garage as i type this

liamlawson: when did you even take these???

logansargeant: said ‘cheese’ and you said to give you a minute and then you pulled out the guitar

arthurleclerc: i think you just hate me

logansargeant: always 💞

arthurleclerc: hope your fantasy team loses

logansargeant: you’ll wish ill on your brother

charles_leclerc: im on your fantasy team??

logansargeant: it’s ferrari

user50: so glad that logan has a support system

frederikvestiofficial: where’s my pic

logansargeant: in my heart (he kept throwing pillows at me)

[twitter]

[omnipotent-omnicube]

only three more days only three more days only three more days

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia!König with an extroverted wifey!reader. Reader has one sided conversations with the bodyguards and anyone she comes across. They’re all sweating bricks, hoping it doesn’t look wrong to their boss because they have all gotten the lecture that they can’t even look at his wife without getting their brains blown out. Reader who constantly tries to make eye contact with them by moving her head and following their eyes.

Your poor bodyguards - no one wants to volunteer for the position not because they don't get paid enough or because it's too dangerous, but because the boss' wife is too fucking friendly and it's a danger to their poor hearts. You're not a girl who would throw herself at them - Konig had quite a few lovers like this, which taught the bodyguards to never miss him women, but you might as well be, with how jealous Konig is about...well, everything. You know the name of the bodyguard who was literally constantly with you for a whole month? Your husband is madly jealous and only keeps himself from killing the dude because he is a good crook. You're just...very social. And it can be nice in some circumstances, but now you are a danger to the people around you. Konig still can't believe that you are not cheating on him...like come on, it just doesn't feel normal - you are literally a cloud of sunshine who likes to talk to anyone, and you fell in love with him, which also means you could possibly fall in love with one of the bodyguards...he knows you don't cheat, he knows you're very loyal, but he can't help but fire or kill every poor fucker who decided to even look in your direction. Konig would have you on his lap, listening to you closely as you chirp about your day - then he founds out that you asked your bodyguard, a nice boy, how his day was, and he responded...which also meant Konig now has the full right to kill the poor nice boy and be done with his poor, nice body. It's such a shame that you're so social - you're the life of the part whenever Konig takes part in more formal events, whenever the parties don't involve guns and blood, you'd be everyone's favorite. Other gang leaders don't understand how a brooding man like him could score such a pretty wife...but here you are, dangling from his hand like a pretty doll, hoping that everyone around you could have a good time. Konig fucking you in the spare room away of the part because you were too friendly with the servants and he needed to get you something to remember him by...

[ptergwen]

starks daughter reader x peter parker, making out? like the avengers ask jarvis to show what’s happening in her room and they see what’s happening?

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 719

warnings: 18+, explicit language, implied smut

a/n: i made one little change so it’s friday instead of jarvis but everything else is the same so i hope you don’t mind and that you enjoy! also don’t forget to join my new taglist y’all mwah

“y/n…”

you’re kissing down peter’s neck, lips leaving goosebumps on his skin. he’s practically writhing underneath you, and you’ve hardly even done anything.

yet.

“y/n, baby.”

you grip the collar of peter’s shirt in both hands and bring your lips to the shell of his ear.

“yes, peter?”

“c’mon, we can’t. we’re… we’re gonna be late for dinner.”

“wouldn’t you rather eat me instead?”

your teeth sink into peter’s earlobe, a hand traveling down to the bottom of his shirt. peter throws his head back and closes his eyes, trying to resist you, but he can’t. you’re his weakness.

“fuck, y/n/n. don’t do this to me.”

“what, is there something else you want me to do to you?”

you start to pull peter’s shirt over his head, but he grabs both your hands in one of his.

“we’ve gotta go join the others. you know how important team dinners are to your dad.”

“and you know how much i despise them.”

“yeah, but i don’t understand why. i think they’re a sweet idea.”

“i think they suck.”

“how come?”

“steve makes the blandest food, thor has literally zero table manners, and everyone’s always asking me questions. way too many questions.”

“you mean trying to get to know you?”

“it’s the fucking worst.”

peter chuckles and pulls you in by your waist.

“you really are a stark.”

“am i? because the leader of the pack came up with this whole team dinner thing.”

“your dad just wants everyone to spend more time together.”

“well, i just wanna spend time with you.”

you peck peter’s lips. peter smiles and secures his arms around your waist.

“at least wanda’s cooking tonight. means the food will actually have some flavor.”

“yippee.”

peter lets out a breath.

“i’d be more than happy to eat you for dessert, but dinner first, okay?”

“or i could be your appetizer.”

your lips attack peter’s before he can respond. despite himself, he gives in this time, kissing back with just as much fervor.

-

“what’s taking them so long? the chicken paprikash is almost done.”

“looks delish, wanda. i’ve never had sokovian food before.”

“oh, thank you, scott. you’ll love it.”

“sure, sure. i bet i will. i just, y’know… it won’t be spicy, will it?”

sam elbows bucky’s arm.

“dude thinks paprika is spicy.”

“and i thought i was bad.”

scott frowns.

“what? it’s a spice, isn’t it?”

tony enters the dining room with a grin, rubbing his hands together.

“hey, gang. smells good in here, little red.”

“thanks, tony. i’m just about ready to serve it. we’re waiting on the kids.”

“oh? they’re still not down yet?”

“nope,” bruce sighs. “i saw them sneaking up to y/n’s room earlier,” natasha smirks. “dang, you didn’t have to rat them out,” sam remarks.

“like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“fair.”

“stop teasing, you two,” steve chastises. “no, no. this is true. i passed little stark and the spiderling on the stairs,” thor says.

tony glares at thor.

“so you all knew they were canoodling, and no one thought to tell me?”

“uh oh, drama,” scott whispers to wanda. “canoodling?” natasha snorts.

steve shoots them both looks.

“i’m sure they’re on their way down, tony.”

“yeah? let’s find out.”

tony double taps his glasses. his artificial intelligence comes to life.

“friday, show me y/n.”

“on it, boss.”

friday taps into her system that’s installed in your room and broadcasts the feed to tony’s glasses. he immediately regrets asking her to do so when he sees what you’re up to. yours and peter’s tongues are quite literally down each other’s throats, and peter is trying to take your bra off, but struggling to unhook it.

tony rips off his glasses and tosses them onto the dining room table. he shudders, shaking his head to rid his mind of the image. natasha puts on tony’s glasses to see for herself.

“yup. they’re canoodling, alright.”

“for real? this i’ve gotta see.”

“wait your turn, wilson.”

tony snatches his glasses back from natasha.

“absolutely not. no one will be taking turns watching my daughter and parker swap spit. have some class, will you?”

“yeah, have some class!” thor chimes in through a mouthful of bread wanda had put on the table.

wanda joins everyone with a serving plate of food.

“chicken paprikash, anyone?”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx

[weird-is-life]

steve request🩷🩷

soo reader is drunk and at a party. maybe someone at the party calls steve who is her bestie to come pick her up. he’s out with eddie, robin and nancy at the time and they go and pick her up. because she’s drunk she’s so clingy with steve and doesnt want to be away from him and the rest of the gang make fun of him for it. he loves it really tho🩷

Ty for the request, lovely💕! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, use of pet names, mentions of parties, drinking, getting left alone by friends at a party, (0.6k)

Steve finds you sitting with your head down on the stairs of the house. The closer he gets to you, the louder the music is and he winces as he remembers how he used live for these kind of parties.

Now looking at you, he can only think of it as something he hates. Sure, the dancing, the drinks are fun, but getting left alone by friends isn't. Steve can't even count, how many times he was left alone at some party. It's too many.

He hates that your friends left you alone, but he's glad you called him, because he can now make sure you're gonna be okay.

He approaches you carefully, so he doesn't scare you, "Hi, sweetheart."

You immediately cheer up, lifting your head up quickly. You smile big at him and basically throw yourself around his neck, almost knocking him to the ground.

"Woah, woah, I'm happy to see you, too," Steve chuckles and hugs you back.

"Stevie, what are you doing here?" you ask happily. You called Steve to pick you up, which you clearly don't remember anymore.

"I came to take you home," he tells you amused, "c'mon let's get you moving."

Steve stands both of you up and you don't let go off of him, even as he starts to walk you to the car. And he's okay with that, he doesn't mind, that you've leaned with almost your entire weight against him.

What gets him a little flustered are your words. You start whispering all kind of nice words, compliments to him, that he's sure, you would be too shy to say sober.

By the time, you get to the car, Steve's cheeks are burning. He curses under his breath, because he knows, he's going to be teased even before he steps a foot into the car.

And he's right. Straight away Eddie, Robin and Nancy grin at him. You notice the three of them and smile drunkenly at them.

"Hi guys, you came, too?" you ask as you plop yourself without a care in the world next to Robin sitting in the back seat.

"Hi babe, " Robin greets you, while Steve squeezes in the seat next to you.

Your attention immediately goes from Robin back to Steve. You slide closer to him, as close as you can and you almost end up sitting in his lap. They all laugh at that.

"I missed you, Stevie, " you whisper, or more like you tell him very loudly, so the whole car hears it. Steve chuckles, because you were together few hours ago.

"I missed you, too." Steve tells you and puts one arm around you. You snuggle impossibly closer to him.

"I didn't sign up for this cuddle session, when I agreed to drive," Eddie mutters from the front of the car.

"Sorry, Eds. Did you want a hug, too?" you ask innocently.

"No, no, it's okay, you just keep hugging Steve. Lord knows how much he loves it," Eddie teases Steve again and Steve just glares at him. But it's true. He loves being close to you, maybe it's because he loves you. And maybe he'd get to hold you close more often, if he had the guts to confess his feelings to you.

"I love it, too, Stevie," you state and hide your face into Steve's front. It takes you only a few minutes to fall asleep, completely at ease in Steve's arms.

Steve can only smile and hold you tightly, as the blush comes back to his cheeks. He ignores the teasing smirks and looks from everybody.

Steve will survive the teasing, if it means he gets to hold you close. Anytime.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Kitty Cat

Bucky is compromised during a mission, sending him back into the mindset of the winter soldier. When he makes a break for it he ends up back at your house. Who will help him revert?

The winter soldier is the reason your cats sleep in the bed.

Pairing: Winter soldier (Bucky Barnes) x Reader

Warnings: I swear an awful lot in my writing, so swearing, Winter soldier (he needs a warning), I used DeepL for translation on a single word.

Word count: 1.7k

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The whole mission was a complete and utter shit show, Sam has been injured almost instantaneously and Steve had been reluctant to continue the mission without him.

Bucky on the other hand was keen to get this whole situation over and done with and there was only one way he knew to finish it. He offered himself up to complete the mission alone.

“It’s not happening” Steve shut him down without question, he wouldn’t have another valuable member injured.

“It’ll be quick and simple, especially if I go alone” Bucky was almost pleading with the blonde to let him go.

Truth be told Bucky just wanted home. He was missing the warm atmosphere that surrounded him when he snuggled into his wife and their two cats. They’d been in Budapest for a month tracking the gang and now that they had their scent he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

“Fine but if it gets hairy you get out” Steve huffed. He knew Bucky was correct, that they’d be here for another long month if they lost this trail.

Bucky should’ve listened to Steve’s words.

The place was empty, eerily empty, far too abandoned to be a base of operations. No, something was up. His eyes squint at the sudden bright light blinking on in the room, the soft buzzing sound coming from it almost doubled due to his enhanced hearing.

Bucky had heard it before he saw it, invading his senses were buzzing, screaming, gunshots. It was a trap and it was working. He could feel his consciousness slipping from him as he kneeled on the floor.

His frame flopped to the side and everything went blank.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The sound of the door closing softly had pulled you from your sleep, ‘Bucky’s home’ you thought excitedly.

Bucky hadn’t came in to say hello, it was basically tradition now for him to announce his arrival with a peck to your cheek and a groan as he rolled into bed with aching bones.

In fact, there was no sound at all.

“What the hell” you murmured under your breath, flicking your legs out of from under the covers into the cold air and pulling one of Bucky’s oversized graphic shirts over your body.

Making your way down the hall you could see a figure, tall, wide and tussled short hair. It was Bucky.

“Buck?” You throw his name into the silent air. ‘Bucky’ turns his head sharply towards you, icy blue eyes staring at you, through you.

No, not Bucky, your heart fluttered in fear.

You could hear your phone vibrate from the room but his eyes had you glued in place, you could truly see why people quivered in fear of this man even if he was only fixing you with a glare.

The mobile continued to ring, he didn’t move an inch, neither did you. You knew it would be foolish to attempt to run, the knife holstered to his hip would sink through your flesh before you’d even turned in the opposite direction.

Movement from the corner of the room caught his eyes. ‘The cats, shit!’ your mind raced, watching as his eyes turned to them.

“Please, don’t, you stepped forward finally.

He wasn’t paying attention, watching the white ball of fur stretch her back seemingly far more entertaining than your pleas. She meowed at the large figure, stepping from the chair and sauntering over to his thick boots. His eyes never left her, not for a second, even when the she rubbed her fluffed head against his leather clad ankle.

“Кто?” (Who?) his low voice was almost hard to hear with his head facing the ground but you caught it.

“Alpine” the white ball of fluff perked at the sound of her name before continuing her onslaught of his boots, tiny paws scratching at the toes.

“Alpine” he tried the name on his own tongue, it sounded nice, it sounded familiar.

Just as he was getting familiar with the small white cat another, much darker one plopped down from the same chair. He glanced up at you with question dancing through his orbs.

“Zanzibar”. The black cat seemed wary of his threatening presence, choosing to observe him from a distance rather than join his white friend.

The Winter Soldier, you’d heard so much about him. A killer, an emotionless assassin who would end life without a question. Age? it didn’t matter when you were his mission you weren’t getting out alive, those icy blue eyes freezing you in your spot would be the last thing you’d see before your death.

This wasn’t the man you saw standing in your sitting room, the man you saw was cautious, almost scared to make movement. He may have been a killer, but not now, not as his body crouched down to pet the white cats head with a gloved hand, not while he picked the bundle of fur up in his large hands and into his arms.

He was human.

A pained groan pulled you from your thoughts. Looking at him you watched as he clutched a free hand to his head, his body swaying slightly.

“Are you ok?” You stepped forwards instinctively, placing a hand on his metal arm, as if it were your husband.

“Come on sit” you pushed his large frame to the chair, his body sinking into the comfy material with a thump. His breathing had quickened, the pain in his head increasing. Like someone was crawling up along his neck to the front of his skull, their fingers digging deep into his brain. The cats, seemingly unbothered by his pain perched themselves around his wide body.

Watching him, you could tell he was going faint. His skin had paled to a sickly white, those ‘emotionless’ hues of blue dulling with sleep and his muscles relaxed— you had to get him to bed before he woke up with a stiff neck and an attitude.

“Bucky?” You tried softly but received no response from the barely conscious human, you were out of ideas, no one had told you how to address him in this state of mind. In your defence no one had anticipated this situation at all. Suddenly it clicked.

“Soldat” you spoke more firmly this time, it was almost scary how quickly his head bobbed up at the name— the dark look accompanying the Winter Soldier fought tooth and nail to return to his eyes but he was losing.

Your soft hands wrapped around the tough vibrainum cautiously, hoping that he didn’t swing around and grab at your throat. “Bed, Soldat”

He grunted, wobbling to his feet. But not before grabbing both cats in his meaty arms. Despite neither of them being very small he made them look like balls of soot or dust in his embrace— it was quite endearing to watch as he stomped into your room behind you.

You let him walk past you as you shut the door of the master bedroom, quickly jumping into the bathroom to splash some water on your face and pet down your disheveled hair. You had to be dreaming, right? There was no way such a thoughtless man would spare you and the lives of your kittens, yet he treated them as his own. The cold shock soaking your face confirmed, or rather confused you, you couldn’t believe that you were thinking of how much a dream would make more sense than what was going on now.

Your questions only deepen when you emerged from the joint bathroom and gazed over to their large bed. The Winter Soldier, sprawled across the white silk— boots and all. On his chest lay Alpine, her small paws stretched over who she thought was her daddy’s chest, the black kitty rested curled on his side beside Bucky’s, no, the Soldat’s meaty thigh with his large palm resting on top of the cat like it was a blanket.

You weren’t getting any sleep in the bed now.

As you admired the sight before you, stealing a few pictures for evidence, a knock came from their front door. You froze, looking over the soft features of the Soldat’s face, looking to see if he’d heard it too. Thankfully whatever had happened to him in your living room had knocked him out.

When you got to the door Sam and Steve busted in, dressed head to toe in their costumes.

“Where is he?” Steve questioned, a phone in hand with a small red dot in the centre. They’d tracked Bucky’s phone to find him here.

“He’s in the bedroom” you replied before squeaking and reaching out to grab at Sam, you’d noticed his body turn in that direction. You had to stop him.

“He’s under control”, you breathed, trying to stop yourself from becoming too loud. Both men’s faces contorted in bewilderment. The Winter Soldier? Surely you’d witnessed the same brutality they had.

“What are you talking about?” Sam found his words first, shrugging off your tight grasp and folding his arms under his pecs.

“I don’t know what happened but… he saw the cats and just broke down” you stumbled, trying to find the correct words to describe what you’d witnessed, even if in truth there was nothing to describe what you saw.

“What?”. Steve couldn’t help the way his words laced with doubt, you couldn’t blame him. Maybe he thought you were trying to protect the Winter soldier, or protect them from him.

“I’m not joking”, she retorted then your eyes widened along with your smile. The photos. Yanking the phone from out of nowhere, the first thing that pops up was the picture you’d just taken before they arrived

Sure enough, Bucky’s body lay sleeping on his back; legs and arms spread wide with a kitty close by and the other sprawled out over his abdomen.

“Well I’ll be damned” Sam whispered, Steve didn’t even have the processing power to shout at him for his language.

After that night, Bucky had finally awoke. You’d explained the whole situation and let his soft fingers trail over your body to confirm the Winter Soldier did not harm you, then the teasing began.

The joke would forever be on you though. The cats had finally got a taste of the bed and they weren’t prepared to give it up so easily, the Winter Soldier had indeed harmed you in one way— he’d harmed your inability to sleep close to your man without both cats slotting themselves somewhere they didn’t belong.

-

Hello!! I’m back with more fluff before I dump all my smut on you again.

The first part of this had been sitting in my drafts for about a month and I finally got round to finishing it.

I hope you enjoyed.

[sourlove]

My In-Laws ~ Part II of 'My Mistake' YANDERE TODOROKI SHOTO

TW: OBSESSION, DELUSION, MENTIONED ARSON, IMPLIED VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF MAFIA AND GANG ACTIVITIES

A/N: This is a quirkless AU so the Todoroki family isn't as fucked up. Touya never left but Enji is still lowkey an asshole. Also sorry this took a while, haven't been feeling very well.

READ PART 1 HERE

You should have gone to law school like your mom wanted you to. You had such a bright future. Now here you were, dressed to the nines, heading to an event you had no business being at, with a man who was convinced the both of you were madly in love.

Some people would consider it a win, especially with how powerful and wealthy the Todoroki name was. However, the circumstances that had led to your situation were less than ideal.

"I'm so glad you decided to match with me, my love," Shoto said, sending a small smile your way.

"You burned all my other clothes," you responded dryly, swatting his hand from your thigh.

The asshole pretended like he didn't even hear you. "It's good for us to present a united front against my family. This might come as a surprise but we aren't exactly a regular family."

You glanced out of the blacked out windows of the chauffer driven car you were in to the convoy that followed in front and behind, filled with armed guards. "You don't say."

Shoto sighed morosely. "It's shocking, I know. I must warn you that some of my family aren't very, how would you say, mentally stable."

"...is that so?" you asked the man who decided he was in love with you as he was tied up in your basement. Honestly, the whole thing was starting to sound like some big, elaborate prank he was pulling. But no, Shoto began his spiel, completely oblivious to your sarcasm.

"Take my eldest brother for example," he began. "We aren't supposed to talk about him, actually. It's...really been very difficult for my family..."

"Oh...did something happen to him?" You asked, feeling kind of bad.

"Hmm? No, we just can't reveal too much information so it won't be used against him in court." Shoto gave you a blank look. "He burnt down a school district. It's been really hard for my family to keep him out of prison so he's on house arrest now."

...of course he was.

The rest of the drive was filled with stories of Shoto's siblings and mother. You weren't sure if you wanted to meet actually them or if you wanted to throw yourself out of the car, but before you could make a decision, the car arrived in front of a large compound. You gaped in awe as the gates swung open to reveal a mansion and grounds even grander than Shoto's.

There was a butler who welcomed you to the mansion, while his eyes tried to communicate with you to run. Now that was a tempting idea. But there was no backing out now. Plus, Shoto had gotten used to your escape attempts and his hand was like a shackle on your wrist. You gazed around the interior of the mansion, your hands itching to pinch some of the smaller but still expensive looking art pieces.

"You're here!" A cheery voice made you turn towards the large grandiose staircase where a beautiful woman stood. She had long white hair, tipped with red, similar to Shoto's half. Must be Fuyumi then, the only 'normal' one in the family according to Shoto.

You smile thinly as she wraps you in a hug. "It's so to finally meet you!" she exclaimed. "Everyone is in the dining room already!"

Shoto snatched you back into his arms before Fuyumi could drag you away but she just chuckled and rolled her eyes at you. "Shoto was always so possessive with his things."

Things? Your smile grew a bit more strained but neither of them seemed to notice or care. The dining room was just as opulent as the rest of the house but you barely got to appreciate it, instead, all you took notice of was the mix of bright blue and grey eyes staring at you.

"This is Y/N. Don't be weird," Shoto introduced, oh so eloquently. The heads of the table were occupied by a giant red haired man and a tiny woman with silver hair flowing down her back. Two young men sat opposite each other and Fuyumi slipped into a chair, patting the seat next to her for you. Shoto ignored her and pulled you to sit next to him.

You nodded at them awkwardly. "Hello. Nice to meet you."

"You're kind of hot." A redhead with an ankle monitor and a disturbingly predatory grin piped up. "Like in a trapped mouse kind of way. I like it."

"Hush, Touya," the older woman said sternly. "He didn't mean that, dear."

"Nah, he has a point." The other young man, Natsuo probably, smiled at you, looking at you slowly from top to bottom. "There's something appealing there."

"I said don't be weird. Keep it in your fucking pants." Shoto glared at the both of them and if it were anyone else, you might have felt worried for them, however, the atmosphere in the room never changed.

"That's enough, all of you." The large man said gruffly. He must be Enji, the generally disliked patriarch. "Y/N, was it? Welcome."

"I'm sure Shoto has told you all about us. But we barely know anything about you, my dear," Rei said kindly. "How did you and our Shoto meet?"

"Oh, um-" You glanced around the room, wide eyed, only to be met with curious gazes from the family. Panicked, you shrank back into your seat. "We- uh, we met by chance, you know, it was like sooo romantic, haha. It was a park-yeah...".

Touya rolled his eyes and Natsuo scoffed into his wine glass. Enji silently raised an eyebrow. "Well, that sounds...nice," Fuyumi laughed awkwardly. "Very romantic..."

Shoto cleared his throat. "Y/N tried to kidnap me the first time that we met."

It was as if the tension just bled out of the room. Rei gasped in delight and smiled at Enji. "Oh, it reminds me of how me met! You remember when I tried to kill you?" He gave his wife a small, fond smile and nodded.

"Oh now, I'm definitely interested," Touya purred. "Looks like we have a little psychopath on out hands."

"You'll fit right in then, pretty," Natsuo added with a laugh. "We're all some kind of fucked up."

"I knew it!" Fuyumi exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "The moment I saw you, I knew you were special!"

Shoto leaned in, whispering, "I think they like you. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing."

Oh you knew what it was. As excited chatter from the Todoroki family began to fill the room, you knew that you had just gotten yourself entangled with one of the most dangerous groups of people in the world.

And that was a very bad thing indeed.

A/N: If you enjoyed this, please leave a like, comment and reblog! I need to sleep and get my shit together lol so this might not be my best work. Thanks for your support either way!

@sky2lar @justabratsworld

[11rosebunny]

hi! could I request bofurin boys getting patched up from their s/o after a fight?

Patching them up after a fight (BOFURIN)

Haruka Sakura

He's learned how to heal his wounds in the past years after spending majority of his life alone. He would rather die than to get yelled at by someone looking after him so he taught himself how to clean up his gashes and bloody bruises on his body.

Earlier in the day, he was caught up in an unexpected fight and his opponent managed to get a cheap shot on him when someone was distracting him. He's not going to lie—it hurt like a bitch when his fist made contact with his already wounded cut on his jawline.

Afterwards, when the fight is done, he apologizes that you had to wait for him a little longer than usual after school. But the moment you took in the prominent gash on his face, you nearly dropped your duffel bag to the floor.

You yelled at him for being so reckless to which he clicked his tongue and took away your bag to hold it for you when he walks you home. However, you ultimately refused to leave him like this, so now here you are in an alleyway cleaning up the wound on his face with bandages and hydrogen peroxide you two bought from the local drug store.

He already tried to stop you by saying he was going to take care of it home, but you were too persistent (and pissed) so you continued to heal him anyways.

The whole time, he can't look you in the eye, afraid he might give into his intrusive thoughts to bite the shit out of you. He's blushing and worrying someone might see the both of you.

"Hurry up...!" His foot is tapping up and down quickly out of nervousness.

He refuses to look you in the eye and remains staring at the opening of the alleyway where you two walked in.

In pettiness, you pressed the cotton ball on his gash harder than before making him jitter on the wooden crate he sat on with wide eyes.

"You be quiet and wait until I'm done!"

"Tch! Whatever!"

Hajime Umemiya

"Ah, seriously [Name]. You know I can do this by myself..." He smiled softly as he watched you bandage his thick fingers.

He was beaten up badly—not that he did a bad job in the fight he was in earlier but when going into combat, he does slip up especially if he's ganged up on, which is what happened earlier.

Usually, he doesn't mind healing his own wounds and is completely fine if someone else does it for him. He's even let a kid put a bandaid on him when he bumped into the little sucker which caused him to bump his knee on a metal pipe.

But when you two scheduled a stay at home date, he shows up to your house holding his jacket that draped behind his back, covered in scratches and cuts.

"Sorry I'm late, I was caught up earlier with something." He says with a weak smile.

You hold your door in front of him stupidly as he begins to sweat drop at your stare.

Eventually, you do let him in and you lead him to your bedroom. He explains that he was caught up in a fight as he placed his jacket on your chair then sitting on your bed.

You sigh not turning around to face him. It was obvious you were disappointed. "Yeah I can already tell."

He laughs with a regretful smile watching you go through your desk and find the bandages, cotton balls, and medical tape.

He's already aware that you don't have any right to be doing this, there's a hint of guilt shoved down his throat when you let out a sigh and bring your hands to yours to wrap them up. At the same time, you and him create small talk; forcing him to tell you why he got into a fight making him let out a throaty laugh.

But a part of him finds you cute for that. The way you're willing to patch him up, even when you're upset at him. He likes seeing the size difference with your hand and his. His fingers are extremely calloused from him gardening and throwing punches all the time—while your hands are smooth and gentle against his skin. He doesn't say anything to aggravate you more, so instead, he lets you heal him with a warm smile on his face.

Toma Hiragi

He's gone through multiple fights with not a single person laying a finger on him, so it's rare for you to ever see him come to you all beaten up.

Sure he has a rough exterior and sharp features, but even a sturdy guy like him can get knocked over. He's quite pissed that he let something like that ever happen and is embarrassed to say the least. When you ask him where he is and what's taking him so long, he ignores your messages and tries to patch up himself up quickly before returning to you.

He's rather die than to let you see him like this. When he finishes taking care of his wounds, you can tell with the way the bandages hang loosely, the cuts that peek out near the ends of the tape, and the way his clothing is all dirtied up, you can tell he tried hiding that from you.

"...You look like a mess."

He jumps at your accusation, "The hell are ya talkin' about?!"

You end up pointing out the poor job he did at putting the bandages on his body. He opens his mouth to cover it up right away, but in a second he stops himself, he knows he would be lying if he fought back.

He's embarrassed, way too embarrassed.

He shuts his eyes closed when you end up patching the wounds yourself. He didn't even clean them beforehand when he came to you. The entire time, he's felt like his ego is knocked down when you two went into a secluded field of grass with items to help with the gashes all over his face.

To you though, it's funny. The way he tries to fall asleep in hopes that your remarks will all be over soon. At the same time, he's blushing and looking away when you take his face with both hands.

"Yer' doin' too much."

"I'm doing too much?" You repeat looking into his eyes to which he quickly looks away.

"Tch. Gonna be the death of me..." He mumbled the last part.

Taiga Tsugeura

Dating him was probably the most responsibility you've ever had in your life.

It's happened before, the routine of you and him planning to meet up at your house turns into him coming home to you all scratched up and you taking it upon yourself to heal his wounds.

He still feels extremely guilty upon watching you roll your eyes at him and forcing him to sit down on your bed in front of you to clean up his wounds. While he's at it, he continues on to share about what happened to him and why he's all bruised. He explains it like a kid trying to justify why his clothes are all ruined. He's honestly scared if you start scolding him about being more careful.

Mitsuki Kiryu

After he gets into a pretty big fight, he returns to you as if he's prancing about his day.

You're shocked to say the least. The way his bluntness is plastered all over his face while you deadpan him when he goes on to talk about the melonpan that is currently on sale at the nearest convenience store. You blink at him repeatedly as if he's not aware of the state he's in right now. You have to be the one to point out the huge gash on his elbow that began to stain the white patterned button up shirt he was wearing.

"Oh! I forgot." He says as if the fight he was in earlier didn't mean anything.

He laughs at the way you yell at him for being stupid before you two make it back to his house. Instantly, he tells you where he keeps all his medical things and then you instruct him to go wash up first then meet you in his room.

He takes it as a reward after winning his fight. He can't really use his phone when you're practicing sitting on top of him to clean up the cut on his eyebrow that ended up bloodying his piercing. To you, it seems like he's enjoying this too much, even going as far to rocking in the chair he's sitting on and spinning it from side to side. He finds it extremely nice to see you like this—so worried and so scared for him.

There's a small part of him that wants to break a bone next time to see how you'd react.

Hayato Suo

There's really no way of arguing with him. Right off the bat, when you throw texts at him, angered at how he hasn't responded in the last hour, he comes back to you shortly after and texts back without much warning.

From: Hayato Suo

Sorry [Name] , I was out with Sakura and we got into a fight ヾ(＾∇＾)

Sent at 4:47PM

From: You

WHAT

Sent at 4:48PM

You rush to his school but when you're half way there, you bump into him on the same path that leads back to your house, meaning, he was going to you either way. You're in shock and out of breath at his state. You've never seen him that beaten up before and when he looks at you, he quickly changes his surprised expressions to his usual soft smile.

"That was quick—"

"Idiot!"

You drag him back to your house and disgracefully throw him onto your couch. The entire time, he finds it amusing watching your shaken character reach for your cabinets in desperation to heal him up quickly.

It was the first time he's ever been in a fight for that long. Usually, he's able to take down opponents within minutes and goes on to tell you about it afterwards. But the fact that it took him nearly more than one hour, you're terrified when it's the first time you've seen him the most beaten up.

You're frantic, basically begging him to tell you what happened when you're healing his wounds. At this rate, it turns into an interrogation while he answers every question you have with the right amount of explanation.

He seems far too happy when you clean up his wounds, normally it would be him healing you since he's able to go through fights without getting hit once, so when he feels your soothing touch and the way you clean every wound with precision and gentleness, he's shocked at how skilled you can be.

"I wasn't aware that you know how to heal wounds." He says raising a brow with curiosity. A small smile is formed on his lips watching you wince your eyes.

"No, of course not...! I was just worried for you!" You answer back feeling your ears go red. He surely knows how to make you lose your mind.

He stifles out a laugh, "Just teasing..." He says sticking out his tongue slightly.

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. killing the reader’s rapist

warnings: yandere behavior, subject matter is rape/sexual assault, gore warning in some parts - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

TIFFANY VALENTINE:

Tiffany knows something happened to you. Call it woman's intuition. Maybe just call it true love. Or obsession. Whatever it is she can sense a hole in you. A gaping pit of misery that you try and hide. Try and fight against.

Tiffany tries to help, when you let her. Most of the time you don't. Instead of admitting to being so depressed you can’t move or eat, you'll feign physical illness. You pretend you're crying because some part of your body hurts. Tiffany knows better. Knows it’s something in your soul itself. Aching. 

Tiffany let's it go on for as long as she can stomach it. The relationship was still so new. You'd just moved in together. Just finished pulling your separate lives into one. Picking out the throw pillows, what color to paint the walls. Argued playfully over bedding and mattress firmness. Is it too early to push? 

She watches you at the breakfast table, on the really bad days, eating mechanically, no joy in your movement or behind your eyes. She doesn't want there to be anything between you. Any secrets. Any distance. If you're hurting she wants you to lean on her. To need her as much as she needs you. To know she’ll catch you, no matter what it is she’ll catch you. It’s enough to leave her in tears every time you put on that awful fake smile. 

She wakes one night, blinking into the darkness. For a moment, she's not sure what woke her. Moonlight streams in from the window. The sound of the fan whirring across the room. Her eyes begin to drift shut again when she hears a muffled sob come from the bathroom. Her hand falls to your side of the bed, instinctively. She closes her eyes when she realizes how cold your side has gone. How long ago did you wake up? How quickly did you decide to crawl from bed and hide from her again? Always hiding. 

It's too much, now. You crying alone in the bathroom in the middle of the night is too much. She throws open the door and takes you into her arms, cooing softly, own eyes watering at the way you go limp against her so quickly. Here she'd been trying to give you space and what you needed was her affection, her tenderness, the whole time.

"What's wrong, huh, baby-doll? You gonna tell your Tiffany what's wrong now? Please?" She whispers against your hair, kissing the crown of your head.

You haven't said the words out loud in so long but you're tired of fighting the demons, and the nightmares, and the misery, all on your own. You've held it in so tightly since you met her. As if you'd taint her just by saying the words. But you love her, and you just want to stop hiding.

When you tell her she goes still. For just a second. Her arms tighten around you like a vice. She begins to rock you gently, cooing reassurances in your ear. She tells you to let everything out and you do. Now that you know she’ll still love you. That she’ll still be here for the aftermath. You can’t stop yourself.

By the end you feel exorcized. Alive. Softened and made new by the level of tenderness Tiffany had shown you. She gathers you from the floor of the bathroom, wipes both of your tears away and kisses you gently. She tucks you back into bed and asks only one more question: 

“What was their name again, sugar bear?” You don’t hesitate to tell her. It warms her heart the way you curl into her side without anymore hesitation. The space between you gone now. 

You sleep deeply that night. You wake up to an empty bed and are surprised. Usually, no matter how late you sleep in Tiffany is still wrapped around you. Just as much a night owl as you, early mornings are rare.  

You pass by the laundry room, notice that the washer and dryer are both going. You thought you did all the laundry a few days ago. You peek into the washer and notice how red the water is. Tiffany must have been attacked by the creative spirit, gotten messy using some paint. 

You hope she didn’t use acrylics this time, the stains never come out. 

You walk through the house calling for your girlfriend. No answer. You step out onto the back porch and there she is. Bathed in the early afternoon sun. Your whole body relaxes when you see her in the garden, bent over, planting a whole new row of flowers. She’s absolutely covered in dirt. You smile, feeling happier than you have in ages. You rush out to join her in the sunlight and throw your arms around her. 

“I love you, Tiff.” You cover her face in kisses, ignoring the dirt.

“I love you too, baby-doll. I love you more than anything.” Tiffany kisses you back, sweet and passionate. Playfully, she spins you to lay beneath her and revels in the sound of your carefree, shrill laughter. 

She hopes they can hear you, just barely, through the layers of dirt she buried them in. With their last breath she hopes they hear your laughter and realize they didn’t break you. 

JORDAN LI:

You weren’t answering your phone. Not their calls. Not their texts. It was enough to have them shrugging on their jacket and stomping out of their dorm into the cool night air.

They’d had a bad feeling about letting you go out alone tonight. You always partied together. Usually with Jordan’s friends, who had become yours. Jordan hated the old group you used to run with. Disloyal. Stupid. Selfish. Now she wishes you’d at least taken one of those fake groupies. At least then you wouldn’t be alone. 

She walks through the party, a brick wall, shoving people aside as she calls your name. Anxiety prickles the skin at the back of her neck. She jogs up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She throws open door after door, music from the party too loud to even fucking think. 

Jordan’s angrier by the second, wondering if something happened to you. She hopes you just lost your phone. If someone stole it she’ll break their fucking jaw. 

The last door in the hallway, she sees two bodies on the floor, one moving against the other in the dim light. She rolls her eyes about to slam the door shut and go look for you in the kitchen again. As she goes to close the door she stops dead when she hears a whimper from the floor. The tiniest noise of pain, a drowsy “stop”. The scene looks different now.

She steps into the room, forgetting about you for one second, heart pounding in her ears. Jordan pulls the person on top off by their hair, hard enough to hurt. When she sees it’s Rufus she let’s out a laugh of anger and blasts him across the room with her power. Hard enough that he leaves a dent in the wall. 

Jordan turns to the person on the ground, hoping the short distance between them and Rufus will make his fucking pheromone bullshit wear off. 

“Are you-” Her blood stops. It’s you, on the floor. Your outfit torn and ripped. Tears are running down your cheeks but your eyes still have that drugged shimmer that might as well be that walking roofie’s calling card. 

“Jordan?” You mumble from the floor, dazed and confused. 

Rufus makes a sound from across the room, getting to his feet. Jordan stops breathing as she turns. They make eye contact. Fear in one pair. Anger so strong it’s inhuman, in the other.

Jordan’s across the room in an instant. Her fist breaks his jaw with the first blow. Everything after that is a blur. She comes back to herself when she feels a stabbing pain shoot through her fist and she pulls her hand away with a hiss. Bone fragment cutting into her hand. 

The haze of the rage falls away and Jordan realizes how wet she feels.  She looks down at her clothes. Sees how soaked in blood they are. Then her eyes fall to the mess she’s left on the floor. She almost throws up. Shakes her hands and feels brain matter slide off of them.

She thinks, what the fuck did I just do? What the fuck did I just do? 

“Jordan?” You call from across the room, sounding less drugged. 

She looks over at you and tears burn her eyes. Numb, she climbs off the body and rushes to you, looking you over. The tears fall when she sees the bruises, the small cuts. You must’ve fought him, even through the haze of his powers. You’ve always been a fucking fighter. She should have fucking been here. She doesn’t want to touch you with the blood on her hands but you don’t give her a choice, falling into her arms sobbing. She forces back her own. This is her fault. You’re the only one who deserves to cry. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Jordan mumbles, hands shaking as they leave bloody smears across your skin. What else can she say?

NANCY DOWNS:  

Secret keeping doesn’t work with Nancy. No matter how small of a secret, or a lie, she can sniff it out. Furthermore she hates when you lie. About anything. You should always tell each other the truth. You're one soul in two separate bodies, as far as Nancy is concerned. 

Even before she did the spell to bind you to one another permanently. 

Because of the magic she can feel what you’re hiding now. She had a suspicion before. But now she knows. Now she fucking knows. She’s furious, and heartbroken, and she knows. 

You still try and hide it, though. As if you can hide anything from the other half of your fucking soul.  

“Enough, Y/N.” She spits at you one night, when you’re trying so hard not to think about it. Not to feel. 

She doesn’t know why you’re blocking her out. Not letting her feel it with you. Whatever you suffered. Whatever harm that befell you it would be avenged times three if you just let her in.

Nancy’s magic has always been stronger. She was being kind before. Hoping you would come to her on your own. She sees now that you need to be encouraged. She’s still gentle, somehow, as she invades the sanctity of your mind. For one instant your consciousness is her consciousness, and you’re both one being, sharing every thought and feeling. 

She sees it. Feels it. Lives what you lived, in that single moment. She pulls herself out of your mind, eyes hauntingly empty. They meet yours, register you, and fill with tears slowly. You reach out, in sync and Nancy pulls you to her. You can’t tell apart the sounds of your voices as you start to scream and sob. 

You pass out, eventually. Either from exhaustion or a spell Nancy placed on you. You wake in your shared bed to her standing over you, covered in blood. A knife in one hand, something meaty and dripping in the other. When your eyes adjust fully to the moonlight you realize it’s a human heart. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. You're safe now. You’ll always be safe, with me. You understand?” Nancy coos, petting your face with the hand holding the knife. It cuts you. You start to cry and you’re not sure if it’s from relief. 

JENNIFER CHECK:

You come home from the party you attended quietly. You open the door without a sound. Kick off your shoes. Put down your bag. You’ve shut yourself into the bathroom before she can even ask how it went. Immediately, her hackles are up. Irritation and concern. You know she hates being ignored. You never ignore her. You didn’t even say hello. 

Jennifer knocks on the bathroom door, trying to keep her voice playful as she asks what your deal is. You don’t respond. The sound of running water is the only thing she can hear. She pounds on the door, getting nervous. 

Then she picks up the smell of prey. You smell like prey. Dried sweat perfumes your skin, the sweetest smelling kind, that only one emotion causes: primal fear. The faintest whiff of blood and tears.

She breaks down the door. You don’t even notice. Don’t even look away from the mirror. You just go on trying to wipe the blood from your face. Your lip is busted. Hair a tangled mess. Scrapes along your cheek and neck, collarbone. Your clothes are a mess too. Rips and tears in fabric that was pristine a few hours ago.

“Baby?” Jennifer says again, feeling sick. Still nothing. 

She reaches out to touch you, gently. You come alive, jolting away from her with a scream. It’s the type of fear she’s heard a thousand times. Right before she rips out an organ or a throat. 

It’s the breaking of a dam and you fall to the ground, sobbing, still trying to wipe away at your skin. Any bit of skin you can reach. Jennifer tries to wrestle the rag from you. You’re being too rough, you're only human. You’re so breakable. You fight against her, sobs getting louder. 

“Baby stop fighting me!” Jennifer begs, uncharacteristically.  Between your sobs she makes out the words of you needing to clean yourself and her eyes fill with tears. She didn’t know she was capable of tears still.

“Stop.” Jennifer commands, voice going inhuman, harmonic. You go still, entranced by the full force of her power. Jennifer feels the tears falling down her cheeks. Watches your own tears cut bloody, miserable lines down your face. 

She takes the rag and gently wipes at your cuts. She peels away your ruined clothes. Starts the bath and places you inside it. Every time her hold on your mind starts to wane, and that animal fear of harm kicks back in, she speaks to you. She doesn’t let the control slip until your body stops secreting that awful smell of terror. 

“Who did this, baby?” She asks quietly, trying not to focus on the haunted look on your face. 

You don’t answer her. She swallows. 

“That’s okay, baby. I’ve got the scent anyways.” She tucks you into bed, orders you into a dreamless sleep that you couldn’t hope to fight off. 

She doesn’t come back home until the morning. The blood beneath her fingernails makes her itch. The smell of the monster she killed is putrid in her nose. She showers under water so hot it singes even her skin. When she crawls into bed beside you, before she falls asleep, she thinks about how hungry she is. She curls her entire body around yours.

She hadn’t been able to stomach even the thought of eating your fucking rapist. 

CARRIE WHITE:

You’d just moved into this house together. It was a nice enough neighborhood. Cozy. Nothing too big or expensive. The dorms at university had been too loud and hectic for Carrie. For this semester you’d decided you needed to build a life together. 

She’d never been happier than she was while painting the walls with you. Picking out lamps, and blankets, and a shoe rack. She remembers the way she’d used telekinesis to haul the heavy couch inside while the two of you held your hands underneath and pretended to carry it. The elderly neighbors all watching from their porches with dropped jaws. When you took one hand away to wave at them Carrie had to rush you both inside before she actually dropped the couch from laughing. 

You went to class together. Cooked and cleaned side by side. Carrie tailoring clothes for money and you tutoring. It was good. Life was good. After years of suffering, you were her heaven on Earth. 

Carrie came home from grocery shopping, humming quietly to herself. She knew you were home but didn’t call out for you. You’d told her you were tutoring someone this afternoon. Some of the subjects required a lot of focus, especially if you were already struggling with the material. She’d brought extra snacks in case they were hungry. 

She set the groceries down in the kitchen and walked into the living room. She froze in her tracks. You were there, and there was your student, on top of you. You locked eyes with Carrie, over their shoulder. They were holding you down. You’d been gagged to keep you from screaming. So the neighbors wouldn’t hear.

They were assaulting you in your own home. In the home you shared with her. Her vision whited out. 

She came to with your hands gently shaking her awake. She screamed when she saw you. You were covered in blood. In gore, and chunks of flesh. The sight alone brought back such horrible memories she turned over and threw up. You held her hair back, as if the blood on your hands was less awful than vomit. 

She tried to look…. To see what she’d done. But you won’t let her look past you. You’re sobbing and still trying to protect her. Even though she hadn’t protected you. Her whole world. Her angel, that God sent her, and she’d let you be defiled. She’d failed you. 

You fall apart in each other’s arms, trying to ignore the headless body a few feet away.

GINGER FITZGERALD:

You’d thought she’d under-reacted, when you told her. ‘She’s being unusually calm’ was your exact thought. But you were so tired, after years of holding in the dark secret. You were just relieved to have her acceptance, without hesitation, without disgust. 

She asked no questions that could leave you wondering about anything. On whether or not she thinks it’s your fault. If she thinks you should’ve fought back harder. If she thinks you’re weak. Tainted. Dirty. She says all the perfect words, everything you’ve ever needed to hear. She held you close and whispered them, and kissed you the same as always. 

She treats you no differently. You let yourself soften in the reality of a devotion that only Ginger can give. 

But you knew she was under-reacting. 

You walk into your living room a week later and see Ginger sitting on the couch, your rapist beaten within an inch of their life, bound and gagged at her feet. Her face lights up when she sees you. She grins like a wolf, canines sharper than usual. 

She stomps on their head as she skips to greet you, grabbing you by the hips. She ignores your gaping mouth when she kisses your cheek affectionately, “Brought you a little gift, baby.” 

“I almost just killed them, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted-”

“Wanted to what, Ging?” You cut her off, breathless, eyes glued to that hauntingly familiar face.

“Wanted the chance to make them suffer, before they die.” Ginger whispers, staring at you so lovingly you almost start to cry.

You tug her into your arms and laugh wetly when she starts to purr. You can see the way her tail wags beneath her skirt. She’s always so eager to please.

“I don’t know if I can do that, Ginger.” You admit into the skin of her neck. 

“Sure you can.” Ginger coos, taking you by the hands and leading you over to the shivering body on the ground. “I’ll show you how.”

She takes off the gag so you can hear the screams better. 

[skelliko]

Tokyo revengers |°- sudden first kiss

๑-featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji, Inui, rindou

°- kazutora hanemiya

• sometimes you both get playful with each other, playful insults or sarcasm, playful acts that consist of annoying each other in so many ways, or playfully fighting with each other that always result in either one of you tickling the other or falling over each other till one of you is pinned on the ground. though usually that play fighting is done indoors.

• today was supposed to be a day where the both of you simply relax a little due to running from certain people that had to be avoided. but nope, you had a little different plan because how could you resist being a little nuisance to try and feel better about the situation you're both in, and what other way to do that than by having a little play fight?

• sure kazutora has a higher winning streak but it still causes some laughter and energy. though when he had you pinned with your back on the floor, the eye contact that you both had held was new, well no, but the thoughts behind kazutora's mind was new leading to the eye contact feeling odd.

• his hands that held your wrists down, he loosened his grip by a lot in a way that if you wanted to leave you could, easily. he didn't say anything but the silence spoke for itself after when he leaned his face down and carefully connected his lips to yours.

°- Chifuyu matsuno

• he knows about some people that like to put you down and make you feel miserable, he takes consideration into that and always tries to soothe you in hopes of making you feel better whenever some piece of shit likes to mess with you. he hasn't done anything to them because when chifuyu stated multiple of times that he'll beat respect into them you always tried to make him drop the whole idea. despite him wanting to so bad, he still listened to your request and kept his fists hidden in his pockets when walking past the people.

• he was rarely present whenever they would say something to you but when he was he'd throw snarks at them and make them shut up using words, however today was different. he couldn't stand it no more so once a single peep came out of one of the dudes aiming at you it make chifuyu tick.

• throwing a punch right across his face to make sure he bites down on his words but it of course caused a fight between chifuyu and the small group. he won with a few bruises here and there but that was to be expected, what wasn't was what he did after.

• before you can even utter the words 'are you okay?!' or even make sure that Chifuyu is okay or maybe even scold him a little at the end, he takes hold of your face with both hands carefully and presses a kiss onto your lips.

°- Keisuke baji

• sometimes his fights with other gangs get out of hand, and I dont mean just a broken bone or some bloody scabs but i mean it as in his life could be on the line. which is always considered when taking part in a gang fight.

• you're the one who he thinks about whenever he goes off to break people's noses, oddly enough. you're the one that has made him to be more cautious and careful when fighting, making sure he gets out still standing to see your smile.

• though something didn't sit right with him before going to join the group, you were on his mind but it felt like he had to do or say something to you. you knew of the fight but was that really all you had to know? Keisuke being alone, pondered a little standing stuck in the middle of a pathway when he was on his way to meet his group.

• it was like a small adrenaline rush, not just because of the events that will play out soon but because you give him energy without even being there. motivation.

• he ran in the direction of where you live without wasting any more time and knocked on your door, hoping that you answer soon. once he saw the door open and you appear, he took a second or two to think but without wanting to stay silent too long his next decision was to invade your personal space, slide a hand behind your upper back to support you and lean in to connect your lips together. a kiss before battle.

°- seishu Inui

• he'd usually end a day off with some minor teasing after hanging out, either by trying to make you blush and shy away or seeing how bold you can get. though a lot of the time those teasings are him annoying you with little harmless acts.

• he'd try and inconvenience you in the most minor ways like misplacing something or taking your pens and pencils and having you to earn your way in getting them back which could be done by saying 'please' after being told to or be sneaky and catch him off guard. he sometimes likes games like that.

• though in this particular time he decided to take advantage of his height and snatch something off from your hands making you try and reach for it, getting all close to him with both arms in the air but he keeps moving the item from one hand to the other and left to right and down and up making you to lose eyesight on the item for a second but by the time you try to reach for it inui moved his arm back up into the air.

• and then he kissed you. while you were getting so close to him in hopes of reaching for the item he couldn't help but focus on your face and those lips. his mind was completely blank when he suddenly leaned in but his heart knew what he secretly wanted.

°- rindou haitani

• usually he's good at maintaining his jealousy, sure he feels it often but he's able to die it down knowing that there's full trust between you two

• however, this time it was a little different. what would one do if they were on their way to meet their date and at the meeting spot they see the date having, by what appears to be, a lovely conversation with 3 young gentleman?

• okay, for most it may be a big deal, but for some it's a 'sure whatever, let me just go over there and move on'. in rindou's case it's both. he knew he shouldn't worry much, to start off there's three guys, not that many groups are willing to all try and hit on the same girl. and what if his date actually knows the guys as mutuals? nah that one ain't right, cross that point out because one of the guys is getting way too close for his liking.

• so rindou did the first thing that came to his mind. to go right over there, slide his sneaky and quick hands around your waist and kiss you right there and then in front of the guys, lips to lips.

• serves the group to try and think that someone as pretty as you to be single.

 ♡----

[thewayitalknj]

Just a quick blurb I just thought of while watching a WWE PPV ; Enjoy!

Okay but just imagine you and the gang hanging out. They all know you're in love with Eddie and they've been trying to get you guys together for months. Doing stupid little things like leaving you alone in a room, having you sit next to each-other wherever you go. You understand and appreciate the sentiment but now you're getting annoyed, tired even ; because you know deep down Eddie would never date you and only sees you as a best friend.

You've seen him go through so many relationships throughout your friendship and whenever it never worked out he always came running to you, just to allow himself to be upset with what happened. And it killed you ; but you were always there for him ; and he was grateful.

You all decide to go to Lovers Lake to rent a cabin for a week during the Summer. And the gangs antics continue. They 'accidentally' put you in a room together, they had you getting things for the bbq together, and of course on the whole ride up you were sat together.

You were at your breaking point one night. Jonathan, Eddie and Argyle were out by the campfire while you and Steve were getting things from the kitchen with Nancy and Robin.

Steve laughs grabbing the chocolate and looks over, "You know, a campfire is a pretty romantic setting for you and -"

"Would you please just STOP?" You yell, practically scream while throwing the marshmallows on the countertop. They all look over at you, shock written all over their face from your sudden outburst. "Look, I know this has been going on for awhile but it needs to end. I'm sick of it, okay? It was fun in the beginning but it's been a long ass time and nothing has changed ; nothing will change. He will never see me as more than a friend, and I've come to terms with it ; and you should all too." You point to them, holding back tears as your voice begins to crack. "I'm suddenly not hungry anymore, I'm going to go shower and head to bed." You make your way upstairs, slam the door and bury your face into the pillow ; trying to keep your muffling and crying to a minimum.

Your friends watch as you leave. Once they heard the bang from the second level they look over to the outside door ; And Eddie is standing there.

"Did you, hear all that?" Robin asks.

"Loud and clear." He whispers, staring at the top of the stairs.

Quick Notes - if you want a Part2 just message, comment? Idk, I'm still new to writing on here lol.

Click Here to Read Part 2

[shaykappa]

Favourite/Funniest Line's from Crooked Kingdom

"Let's go." "Me?" "No the idiot behind you."

"How is-" "Nina is fine. Jesper is fine. Everyone is fine except for me because I am stuck with a gang of hand-wringing nursemaids."

"Now why can't people be this easily trained?" Kaz murmured as he crouched to oblige the dog with a belly rub.

"Did you know I am next in line for the Fjerdan throne? They call me Princess Ilse of Engelsberg." "There is no princess of Engelsberg. It's a fishing town."

"Has anyone noticed this whole city is looking for us, mad at us, or wants to kill us?" "So?" "Well, usually it's just half the city."

"Big, blond and blind. The Fjerdan way."

"If I live I'll buy you waffles." "You don't have enough money to buy her waffles."

"Do you know what Van Eck's problem is?" "No honor?" "Rotten parenting skills?" "Receding hairline?"

"Isn't that how things are done around here? We all tell Kaz we are fine and the do something stupid?" "Are we that predictable?" "Yes."

"It seems everyone is forming alliances." "They're called friendships Kaz."

"You are very welcome Nina Zenik. You may repay me in the costumary way." "Waffles?" "Lots of them."

"I need to do this. I've never been to my mother's grave. I am not leaving Kerch without saying goodbye." "Trust me, you care more than she does."

"You are stupid about a lot of things Wylan, but you are not stupid. And if I ever hear you call yourself a moron again, I am going to tell Matthias you tried to kiss Nina. With tongue." "He' ll never believe it." "Then I 'll tell Nina you tried to kiss Matthias. With tongue."

"Come on, let's do steal all my dad's money. "Isn't it your money?" "Okay, let's go steal it back."

"I think you 'd flirt with a date palm if it would pay you any attention." "If I flirted with a plant, you can bet it would stand up and take notice."

"Yes, yes, Nina Zenik is hungry. Now, will someone feed me before I am forced to cook one of you?" "Don't be ridiculous. You don't know how to cook."

"On a dare I ate a literal through full of waffles and nearly went back for seconds."

"Pick up the pace." "If I spill a single drop of this it will burn straight through the floor onto my father's dinner guests." "Take your time."

"I am Dunyasha, the White Blade, trained by the Sages of Ahmrat Jen, the greatest assassin of this age." "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Fate brought me here." "And does fate pay your wages?"

"My parents thought I would drown because I crawled into the sea as a baby, laughing." "Perhaps they were worried you would talk yourself to death."

"Kaz. You may not be glad we are alive, but we are glad you are alive."

"You are better than waffles, Matthias Helvar." "Let's not say things we don't mean, my love."

"Are you mad?" "I'd probably be happier if I was."

"You have to be the craziest bastard I ever met." "I'll take that as a compliment."

"My leg! My leg!" "I recommend a cane."

"What is wrong with him?" "Same thing that's always wrong with him. He's Kaz Brekker."

Jesper followed Wylan down the hall. "Hey." Wylan kept going.

"Jes, I 've thought about this-" "Thought of me? Late at night? What was I wearing?"

Wylan ran his tongue over his lips and spat in his father's face.

He was pale, with tufty orange brows and a hunched posture that gave him the look of a giant shrimp.

He felt bad for the guy. Not bad enough to wake him up and untie him, but still.

"I 've been shot!" He had not been shot.

"How about I push you in the canal and we see if you know how to swim?"

"Tell you what. When the day comes, mark it on your calendars. I can think of a lot of people who 'll want to throw a party.

"Wait. Is my tie straight?"

[buckybuckyboo]

All for him

Summary: Your dad owes the Mafia boss money after a deal goes bad and he didn't think he would have to give his daughter up to him.

Word count: 2,488

Warnings: none really

part 1.

Mr. Barnes owned everything in your town so all business deals went through him. But when your dad's plan and money fell through, Bucky was furious. He sat behind his big desk looking at your dad and then spoke.

"What's your plan now huh?"

"I- I don't know, maybe if you could give me some time I can-"

"Stop"

Bucky cuts him off and nods to one of his security guys who walks up to your dad and starts searching his pockets. He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and throws it to Bucky who searches through it.

"You've got 5 dollars and some family photos, let's see what we've got here hm? Wow, your wife is beautiful" he smirks.

"But your daughter, now there's a sexy woman"

"P-Please Mr. Barnes, don't hurt them. They have nothing to do with this"

"Hurt them? No, I wouldn't do that" he gets up from his chair and moves around to the front of his desk sitting in front of your dad.

"I'm gonna do you a favor and take your daughter under my wing"

"What? Noshe doesn't belong here"

"Well you should have thought about that before losing all my money"

"I'm sorry, I really am but please, don't hurt her"

"Hurt her? I wouldn't dream of it unless she asks for it£ he smirks.

"You have two days, if I don't see her here I will come get her myself. Don't even think about skipping town. I have eyes everywhere. Two days!"

He walks out of the office leaving your dad sitting there with his head in his hands.

When your dad gets home, he asks you and your mom to sit down and talk. He tells you both that the deal went bad and that Mr. Barnes wanted something as payment.

"Okay, so you just have to get him his money, right Dad?" you say softly.

"No honey, he wants you".

"What?!" you and your mom both shout.

"He wants to take Y/N under his wing he said"

"What does that mean Dad? He can't do that right?"

Your dad takes your hand, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry honey, it's out of my control. You have to be there in two days"

Hearing those words come out of your dad's mouth broke your heart.

"How could you do this to me? What does he want with me? I don't want to be part of a gang"

Storming off to your room and slamming the door. How could he do this to you? He was just going to give you away to this stranger that you have never met before and he was dangerous. You nearly spoke for the next two days. Anytime you think about it, it just makes you cry. You had packed up most of your important stuff and waited. Sitting with your mom saying your goodbyes. Whenever your dad would talk to you, you wouldn't listen. This wouldn't be happening to you unless he had his shit together. There was a knock at the door and your dad went to answer.

"Hello sir, I'm here to take your daughter to her new place"

"Yes, hello Mr. Rogers, please come in"

He opens the door letting him in along with two other guys.

You see them come into the living room and stand with their hands crossed in front of them.

"Are you him?" you ask.

"No honey, this is Mr. Rogers. Mr. Barnes' security. I'm guessing he won't be coming?"

"No, he is away on some business but he will be back tomorrow to see you Y/N".

You glare at him, you hate every single thing to do with this guy.

"I'm not leaving! I don't wanna be part of that crap!"

Steve smiles "I'm a sorry sweetheart but a deal was made, you're coming with us"

Running up to him and hitting him on his chest

"You can't do this!"

"I'm just doing my job sweetheart"

Steve nods at the other two guys and they grab Y/N taking her out to the car and coming back for her bags. Steve walks over to your dad handing him a letter.

--x--

"You and your wife have to leave town, take what you can carry, and don't come back. This house belongs to Mr. Barnes"

Steve leaves closing the door behind him leaving your parents to pack and leave. The whole car ride back to his mansion you cried. You didn't know what was going to happen to you. The car parked and Steve got out and opened your door and put his hand out to help you out of the car. Your shaky hand reached out to his and you got out.

"Please follow me, your bags will be brought up soon"

You follow behind him as he escorts you to where you are staying.

"You will be staying here for tonight. Mr. Barnes will talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night"

He closes the door behind him leaving you alone.

The next morning your breakfast was brought to you in bed. Whenever you would ask a question you never got an answer. You take a shower and spend the rest of your day sitting in your big window seat watching the world go by. You were not sure what time it was but there was a string of cars outside. Then I saw a man get out of the back of one of the cars and come inside. After a few minutes, your door opens and you see Steve, he just stands there with his hands crossed and you think about running by him and running away from everyone. But as soon as you thought that he entered your room.

"Hi doll, sorry I wasn't around yesterday just had some business to deal with"

"Like murder?" you talk back making him chuckle.

Even though he just met you he knew he was going to love you.

"No doll, just checking on my investments"

"So now you're just checking on another investment right!?"

He chuckles and turns to Steve. They talk for a moment and then Steve leaves closing the door behind him leaving you and Bucky in the room. He sits across from you on the window seat and gives you a sweet smile. He moves closer, placing his hand on your cheek making you flinch.

"I'm not going to hurt you doll, Iment what I said to your dad. I'm taking you under my wing". His thumb brushed over your cheek "You're so beautiful, all of my competitors will be so jealous that I've got you on my arm."

You look at him confused and take his hand. He walks you outside to his little hidden-away guest house.

He leans in trying to kiss you making you lean back and blush.

"Don't be shy doll"

"I'm not shy I've just never-" you mumble.

"Never what?"

"I've never been with anyone, never even kissed a guy"

Bucky stands and holds his hand out to you to take.

"Come on, I wanna show you something."

"This is yours for the next few months, but you're not allowed to have any visitors. My men will be on guard" he opens the door for you to enter and follows behind you. He watches you as you look around.

"Everything here will be taken care of. I will join you most evenings for dinner"

When your head cleared you started to look around the house. It was really nice, everything you needed. You sat down on the big bed and took a deep breath. "I'm- I'm all for him"

"So will you be joining me this evening?"

"Yes." you turn around and look at him.

"I'm sorry I don't understand"

"What do you not understand doll?"

"Well, Mr. Barnes. What am I doing here? Why are you being nice to me? My dad owes you money, right? Soam Ia thing to be thrown around by your friends?" he walks over to you placing his hand on your cheek "Call me Bucky. And no, you're not for my friends. You are for me"

"Foryou?"

He leans in, his lips almost touching yours but he leans back looking into your eyes.

"We are going out for dinner tonight. Be ready at 7" he smiles and leaves the little guest house. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest.

--x--

It took you longer than you thought to pick out something to wear for dinner. You settled on a nice red dress with some black jewelry and a purse to match. When you walk into the living room, Steve is standing there.

"Hey, you look beautiful. Mr. Barnes is waiting outside, can I let him in?"

"Um, sure"

Steve smiles and goes to let him in. When you see Bucky, he is wearing a nice suit, his hair tied back into a bun and he smells amazing.

"Good evening sweetheart. You look stunning tonight"

"Thank you, Bucky, where are we going?"

"My friend Sam owns the place. Best food you will ever eat and it overlooks the lake"

"Wow, I can't wait!"

He smiles and holds his hand out to you and you both walk to the car. He opens the door for you and makes sure you are safely inside before getting in himself. Steve and a fellow guard are in the front.

The car ride was quiet. You honestly didn't know what to say to him or what to talk about but the ride wasn't very long. The guards got out of the car and opened the doors. Bucky came around to you taking your arm and wrapping it around his as you both walked in. The restaurant looked amazing, it was packed with people. As soon as you got in a man came up to both of you.

"Mr. Barnes! Nice to see you again"

Bucky shakes his hand and hugs him "Hey Sam! How has everything been going?"

"Good man good! We've got your table ready for you over here"

"Thankyou Sam, this is Y/N"

Sam takes your hand and kisses the back of it "It's very nice to meet you! Please, follow me"

Both of you follow Sam to your booth and Bucky steps back letting you sit in first, then he sits in beside you.

"Please, both of you enjoy your night and order whatever you like cause it's on me!" Sam smiles and leaves to go back to the kitchen.

"This is really nice, you own this too?"

"No, I did help Sam get started and he paid me back. It's all his I just get a table whenever I show up" he smiles.

You smile back and let your eyes scan over his body. He tilts his head at you and says "See something you like?"

"I guess I had you wrong Mr. Barnes. I thought you would be demanding, shouting, beating people up, killing"

He leans in cupping your cheek with his hand "Call me Bucky. I'm pretty easygoing unless someone does me wrong or if anyone dares to touch you"

His thumb rubs over your cheek.

"Can I ask you a personal question baby?"

"Um, sure I guess"

"You've never been with anyone sexually?"

Blushing and shaking your head no.

"I will wait till you are ready. I won't sleep with you till our wedding night"

Your heart skips a beat "Why me Bucky? I'm sure you can have anyone you want"

He smiles and kisses your cheek "I want you".

Your body starts to lean into him going to kiss his lips but the waitress interrupts.

"Hi guys what can I get you tonight?"

Bucky clears his throat and orders his usual. You were trying to pick something quickly from the menu but you were just so overwhelmed "Let me sweetheart"

"Og great," you thought, he's gonna order salad and I'm gonna be starving for the rest of the night. But you were wrong, he ordered you the 8oz steak and wine.

"Thank you"

"You're welcome baby girl"

He asks you about your childhood and asks all sorts of questions trying to get to know you. The food and wine was amazing, there was so much that you couldn't finish. "Can I get the rest of this to go? It was so good I don't want to waste it"

"Of course! I'll sort that out for you" The waitress takes everything away from the table.

"Let's go out on the balcony and look at the view hm?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice Bucky" he stands and waits for you to get out of the booth and leads you out to the balcony. The cold air instantly hits your bare shoulders and arms making you wrap your arms around yourself. Bucky sees this and instantly takes his suit jacket off and places it on your shoulders.

"Thank you, should have thought about a jacket"

"That's alright sweetheart I'm happy to give it to you"

He stands behind you rubbing your arms as you both look out at the water. You turn around looking at him and smiling and he gives you a big smile back, leaning in and kissing your lips softly. Your hands instantly wrap around his neck. His hands wrap around your waist pulling you closer. He gently swipes his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you let him in. His tongue gently massaging against yours.

You don't know how long the both of you have been making out but when he pulls away you whine, leaning into him trying to catch his lips again and it makes him laugh.

"Easy baby don't want you getting tired of me" he jokes making you smile.

"Come on doll, gotta get you home"

"I don't wanna go home"

"I know but Sam doesn't have any beds here". You playfully slap his chest laughing. He signals Steve to bring the car around and you both get in. When the car starts on its way back bringing you home, you lean over kissing Bucky again and he pulls you closer to him. His jacket falling off your shoulders. Pulling him down on top of you in the back of the car.

"Not like this baby girl, want to make everything special for you"

"I know, I just can't help it"

As the car pulls up to your house, Steve gets out of the car, opening the door for Bucky and then Bucky comes around to your side to open the door for you. He walks you inside the house and hands you the leftovers of food from the restaurant.

"Thank you for dinner Bucky"

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Can I come see you tomorrow after lunch?"

"Sure, I don't have any plans" you laugh. He leans in kissing your lips softly and then your forehead "Good night doll. see you tomorrow"

"Good night Bucky"

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

࣪ ˖✧ Sweet Coffee

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: The morning after Sean's return party, a sheepish Arthur faces the consequences of his drinking excess. ✦ Warnings: None, this is as fluffy as the first part. ✦ Words: 3,9k ✦ a/n: This is a sequel of this one shot! Please, read it before this one :) Also, I've taken the liberty to write this as if Arthur still had Boadicea, to me it was the best way to make him have a canon horse. Gonna think about a better solution in the future.

You opened your eyes, slowly. The ceiling of your tent was turning a bit, your heart feeling like it was on the verge of leaking out of your chest. It was as if your bed was a boat, pitching with the winds and the waves; you had to prevent yourself from throwing up, a spinning sensation making your guts feel rancid.

Water. Coffee. Breakfast.

You thought to yourself while stretching in your cot, every fiber of muscles in your body feeling worn. Your brain was mushy, unable to form any complex reflection, your forehead hurting, your mouth dry. The consequence of every party; the goddamn hangover.

Water. Coffee. Breakfast.

You slowly sat at the edge of your bed, taking the time to move your tired members, realizing your throat was extremely sore. You probably sang a little too much last night. You get up and walk to the little cleaning area of your tent which consisted of only a simple table topped with a little mirror, a bucket of water, and a solitary towel. Nothing fancy, but at least you had your own tent, which was already a grand luxury at camp.

Water. Coffee. Breakfast.

You take long sips of water from the bucket before cleaning up your face, looking at it in the mirror. Of course, under your eyes, big shady circles, sickles of violet darkness under the sharp radiance of your pupils. It was part of the whole hangover package. You quickly fixed your hair and put on some fresh clothes, mindlessly.

Coffee, breakfast, Arthur.

Wait, what? You thought you were going on with your morning routine thoughtlessly, but here he was. Always following you, a shadow in the back of your mind; his stupid smile like imprinted on the obscure abyss of your psyche, shining, blazing, magnificent. Haunting.

You were thinking about him very often lately, maybe too often, you noted to yourself. John's word had sealed your opinion's fate on the matter: Arthur could have behaved that way with any other girl at camp.

And yet. Yet you longed for it, for last night to mean something, anything. For you to be more than just any girl to him. For the drunken honest words he had spoken before drifting away in the sweet caress of sleep to be true. You sighed. Too much false hope would lead your heart to be even more broken, you knew it.

And yet. The shadow of his smile. The sound of his deep, powerful laugh. Following you everywhere as you got out of your tent, eyes narrowing at the bright light of the day, almost as bright and vibrant as the subject of your thoughts; almost.

Your path led you more by habits than by an actual decision of yours to the campfire next to Pearson's wagon, and you were delighted to see one of your obsessive needs was already there: a hot coffee pot, releasing a small puff of smoke had been prepared. Blessed was the divine human being who made it. You took a cup and poured some of the holy providential liquid into it, the mere smell of it already waking you up a little bit. The taste was strong, bitter; rough like your life was as an outlaw in a gang, but at least it would help you clear your head and maybe get a certain someone out of it.

As you sipped on the warm beverage, you took a look around at your surroundings. The camp offered you a pitiful but quite amusing sight. It was a real mess, as if a tornado had passed by and turned everything upside down. The Ocean of empty bottles was still present, spilling everywhere between the different people's tents. People who were slowly emerging from them, with tired eyes and ruffled hair, some of them speaking more quietly than usual, rubbing their temples, navigating through shattered glass and chaos of debris, remnants of the agitation that had taken place the night before. You chuckled to yourself. One of the more feared gangs in the West? Certainly not after a party.

Abigail was already starting to clean the pieces of glass, getting angry about how this wasn't a proper place to raise her kid. Honestly, she was right, and you wanted to help her. Ms Grimshaw would probably force you to anyway, and this idea was reinforced when you noticed her from afar, already yelling at Karen to get up and start the cleaning.

Before getting attention from the strict woman, you took a step to go and do your part but stopped in your tracks. A familiar rugged face had appeared from his tent and was heading up in your direction.

Arthur was feeling too much. Too much sensations, too much feelings, just way too much of everything. His thoughts were trying to work as fast as he could considering his slowed brain, the aftermath of his excess from last night preventing him from being as efficient as normal.

The main focus of his reflection was you. He was obsessed to know what had happened, to understand why he had so many memories about you from last night, and quite intimate ones. He was praying he didn't do anything stupid with you; were you two even okay? Had he offended you? Had he been respectful? He needed to know, he needed to make sure he hadn't screwed everything up between you two. And at the same time, he was ashamed. So ashamed of having drunk so much he wasn't even able to remember what had happened. He was so anxious to confront you about it. To hear the truth, hear you say he had been a pig, and you'd never want to see him again, because that was probably what had happened. He was convinced of it.

As he saw you drinking your morning coffee by the fire from his cot, he quickly had changed, tried to clean up a bit, and made sure he had nothing stuck between his teeth or anything else of that type that could make him pass for an even bigger fool than he already was. He had chosen one of the less damaged shirts he had, a simple green but at least not holey flannel, all his clothes being more or less in a bad state anyway. Two leathered suspenders on, keeping black basic pants from falling. Damn, his reflection in the mirror looked even uglier than usual with his lack of sleep and post-party face. He sighed deeply, screw it. He needed to talk to you, at all costs, he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything else properly otherwise. He tried to actually brush his hair, a thing he never bothered to do normally; he even tried to use some hair pomade, combed them in all directions possible, anything to make them look less messy. Nothing was working. He sighed again, getting angry, and just decided to put his hat on to hide this disaster.

This was already too complicated and he hadn't spoken any words yet.

Now walking straight to you, every step he took was followed by a worried thought, his heart tightening more and more as he was getting closer to the campfire you were standing next to. What had he done? Were you mad at him? Would you even agree to speak to him? Did he look good enough? Shit, he probably still must reeks of whiskey, he should have gone to town and taken a bath, stupid moron! But it was too late. Your eyes had crossed his, you had seen him approaching. There was no going back.

Finally arriving at the campfire, the poor nervous man stood at a respectful distance from you and cleared his throat. He didn't even had taken the time to think about what to say. Moron.

"G'd mornin', Y/N." He greeted you, his tone almost a bit too formal, a trace of his troubled state. His voice sounded huskier and harsher than what he wanted to, you were the first person he actually talked to since waking up and you could hear it with how hoarse his vocal cords were.

Besides it, you couldn't have guessed how much was going on inside his head; his expression was as neutral as usual, his own way of defending himself against the flurry of feelings that was taking place inside of him. You smiled at him, a mischievous, playful smile. You had so much to tease him about. Before the party, you two would already messed with each other a lot, and now you had a whole night of details you could use for it.

"Good morning, Mister Morgan... Guess someone was a little thirsty last night, mmh?" You answered, looking at him. His eyes crossed yours, he cracked up a smile too. His shoulders seemed to go down a bit, less tensed. In reality, he was so relieved to hear you tease him and to see your smile. You weren't mad. He silently thanked the Lord for that.

"I, erm... Maybe I drank a little t'much..." He replied with an embarrassed grin, his eyes looking at his feet before planting them back right into yours. He decided to ask you right away. Arthur never beat around the bush, this time was no exception. "L'sten, I don't... I don't remember much 'bout last night and... I hope I didn't bother ya."

His bright blue pupils were looking intensely into yours as he waited for your answer. He always looked at people like this, always keeping eye contact, as if it was a quiet duel and he would lose it if he stopped; but God, it made your heart melt a little.

"Oh, Arthur." You started, smiling some more realizing he was actually worried about you. "Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong. To me at least. I remember you losing your nerves and punching Micah in the face." You answered his question, chuckling in the end.

"Why, this bastard had it comin'..." Arthur replied, scratching the side of his jaw, the slight grin still present on his lips, telling himself that it was definitely something he was capable of.

"You sing pretty good when you're drunk..." You added, tone playful.

Arthur sighed, he was enjoying more and more of this conversation he had feared in the beginning.

"Oh stop it, I don't." He retorted, his fingers scratching one last time before falling to his belt, both his hands gripping it, a standing position he often had when talking and didn't know what to do with his arms. Honestly, you were quite fond of it.

"You want some coffee, songbird ?" You questioned with a teasing tone, already grabbing a new cup and the pot. You knew he would say yes.

"Yeah, thank you." He replied at first, before frowning. "Don't ya start calling me that!" He added with a firmer tone, but his small smile was still stuck on his face while grabbing the hot cup you were handing to him.

"You're also quite a dancer..." You teased him once more with your mischievous voice, knowing you were pushing his limits with your remarks.

"Damn it, woman! Can't believe I was worried 'bout ya, while ya're teasin' me like this..."

"Yeah, I'm such a nasty woman..."

"Nah, you're the sweetest." He corrected you, a bit too quickly for it to be innocent. A quick, subtle flicker in his eyes showed you he was surprised with himself; the words had come out on their own.

You smiled widely, cheeks turning a bit red. You were praying it wasn't too obvious to him. Arthur was still looking at you, two indigo miniature seas fixated on you, even while drinking his beverage. The more he was, the more those vivid memories he had were making their way back to his mind. While looking at your waist, he remembered having held it at some point during the party, which explained how he learned how your clothes felt underneath his fingers. His breath quietly hitched when he realized how he knew about the softness of your leg: he recalled having an arm curled up around it at the end of the night. Shit... He really had been unruly. After a short silence, Arthur spoke again. He wanted to make sure, he needed to make sure.

"Erm... Can I ask ya if we... Did anythin' happen b'tween us while I was drunk ?"

"No, you've just been a bit... Tactile. But nothing happened." You answered his question honestly, wanting him to know the truth. After all, Arthur was your friend, and there was a whole step between gently teasing and actually tormenting him. "Oh and, you said you loved me."

Arthur almost choked on his coffee, a short strangled sound escaping from his throat, some drops of the hot liquid falling on his shirt. The only decent shirt he had was ruined. But it was the least of his problems. What the actual Hell had gotten into him? He was an even worse fool than he thought, and the bar was already low.

"I... What ?" Were the only words he was able to form, one of his hands wiping the coffee from his chin.

"Don't worry, John told me you've made it a habit to tell women that when you're drunk, apparently. We don't have to make a bit deal out of this." You reassured him. He really looked ashamed of his behavior, and you didn't wanted to make him feel even worse.

But Oh Lord, if only you knew. If only you could have understood how much he wanted to make a big deal out of it; how much he had wanted to properly say those three words to you. He was almost disappointed in a way, that you were so quick to forget about it, as if it had been a simple joke to you, something amusing a drunkard had said in a moment of alcoholic eccentricity.

"Ah, alright. Well, I'm happy ya not mad at me." He simply added, honestly not knowing what to say or how to act anymore.

Tell her. Tell her she means the World to you. Tell her you have spoken the truth. This was the best chance you would have.

But the words were stuck, and as fast as a breeze would have swept away petals of flowers, Ms. Grimshaw asked for you with her usual severe call, and off you were gone, wishing him a good day and telling him he didn't have to worry about last night, even adding your typical teasing comments, advising him to join a choir were he could flourish his singing talent.

Looking at you walking off, he sighed again, calling himself a moron for at least the twentieth time since he had gotten up. Looking down at his cup of coffee, almost empty, just like the hurtful sensation he was experiencing right now inside his heart, he got angry again. This was enough. He threw the rest of the coffee on the ground, put the cup in his satchel out of habit, and walked straight to his horse.

The afternoon passed slowly and quietly. You basically spent it tidying up the camp, the number of dishes almost twice as big as usual, and the endless amount of bottles and garbage looking like it was only getting larger the more you were cleaning them up. Thankfully, Ms Grimshaw had put every girl in camp to work too, and you weren't alone on your impossible task while the men were back on their usual activities, whether it was lazying around for Uncle and the Reverand, guarding camp for Bill and Charles, or going back on jobs for the others. You hadn't seen Arthur since your morning discussion with him, and you had concluded he probably had gone somewhere to do his own work. As the sun was getting down, the camp had ultimately taken back its usual appearance, and you were finally free from your chores.

You decided to go to the edge of the camp, behind the wagons, where the cliff was starting and was offering a breathtaking view of the mountains in front of you. At this time of day, in the dusky sun, the landscape was painted with beautiful golden and bronze colors, dazzling blend of warm tones, ephemeral treasure from the last sunrays of the day before the settlement of the night's darkness.

Lost in your contemplation, you didn't hear footsteps approaching. The shrill and recognizable sound of spurs along with the heavy stomping of a horse's hooves made you turn your head from the literal work of art you had under your nose, and your gaze fell on another one from a different nature; Arthur was walking up to you, holding Boadicea's reins into his hands, his blue gaze already fixated on you, slight frown on his forehead, looking as determined as if he was going in for a fight.

He looked different from earlier, you swore he was wearing a brand new shirt you had never seen, a fresh white one, and a black jacket which must have gone with a fancy suit. As he was heading towards you, you noticed and could smell he had taken a bath, and trimmed his beard more than usual. He looked neat, refreshed, it was quite unusual for him. You could feel how your blood was rushing at the simple sight of all this: he was undoubtedly handsome, as breath-taking as the landscape around you.

"Y/N." He greeted you with a determined voice, once he had come close to you. He let go of the reigns, letting his mare free, but she stayed right where she was and started to graze happily. He took his hat off and held it in his hands, probably out of politeness. Such a gentleman, as always around women. You had always found it quite endearing how rough he was but at the same time how respectful towards girls, complying with conventions just like an honest man would. However you were a bit confused, he had never bothered to do that with you before, only with the women he didn't knew.

"Arthur, are you alright? Did Trelawny force you to get clean up ?" You joked a bit, genuinely surprised by his appearance and sudden polite behavior.

"What? N-no..." He stuttered. He never stuttered. You could feel it flowing into you like last night: this terrible, powerful feeling of hope. Your whole being was filled with it as your eyes were glued to him, like a moth to a flame, like a moon to its celestial body.

"I erm... I got somthin' for ya." He said almost shyly. Shyly. You couldn't believe what you were witnessing. It was nearly too good to be true.

Maybe... Maybe the words he had spoken to you... Maybe his tactile behavior... Your thoughts were going entirely crazy, spiraling around the deep feeling that something really important was on the verge of happening. You watched, in awe, as Arthur turned his back to you in order to pull off from Boadiccea's saddle a gorgeous flower bouquet.

"I know it ain't much but... I've picked 'em for you..." He said quietly, his voice slow and deep as usual, but also a bit more vulnerable. You could see just how flustered he was, how unusual it was for him to put himself in such a situation. And it made you more happy than anything for such a long time. Your eyes, traveling from his insanely cute bashful face to the flowers, were now stuck on it. The colors were vibrant and surprisingly well-matched, almost like a painting, the petals going from deep red to a warm golden yellow. You couldn't prevent a deep blush from flushing your cheeks; it really was warming your heart.

"They're beautiful! Thank you so much..." You marveled, vision attached to his gift, admiring every detail about it. After a short moment, as you realized he had felt silent, you spoke again, a wave of boldness crashing onto you. He had made a step towards you, now it was your turn.

"Arthur... The words you said to me last night..." You began, your eyes slowly ascending to look at his again. To your surprise, you found him looking away.

Another hint, another glimmer of the internal storm of emotions Arthur was feeling right now. Your own heart started to beat faster; the blood flooding so fast in your veins at this point you're wondering how the hell your body is keeping it all up together without collapsing under the pressure.

Arthur doesn't answer. Instead, he simply looks back at you, a flash of apprehension in his turquoise diamonds. He stays silent, unable to say anything more. His own heart must be on the verge of bursting cause you recognize the faintest of red on his own cheeks and a little vein on his temple. What a sight, to have this grown man, one of the stronger men in the gang, probably the fastest gunslinger of the State, blushing because of you.

"Those words were true, right?" You finish your sentence with an encouraging expression and the softest smile you had.

Arthur exhaled, closing his eyes for just a few seconds before planting them back into yours and nodding. Still silent, still stoic, still nervous. The slight blush was unhurriedly spreading on his face just like a flaming stain of watercolor on a canvas. Your very own art piece.

"I love you too, Arthur." You finally confided to him, voice soft and low, as if it was a confession you would have told him in the middle of the night, intimate as secrets you'd both tell each other in the ear while lying together in the same bed, arms interlaced, heart intertwined, as everything around you both would disappear. And in the moment, for Arthur, everything did.

He carefully brought a hand on the side of your face, never breaking his deep starring until the last second, and slowly bent over to put his lips on yours. Every move he was making was measured, contained; the exact opposite of his unleashed behavior at the party. You could feel just how cautious he was in that moment, as if he was scared to hurt you, or make you flee.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, never letting go of the bouquet that was now hanging behind his back in your thankful right hand. His own was still on your head, fingers gently caressing your skin as the kiss was dragging on. His lips, although chapped, felt good against yours, taking their rightful place there.

After what felt like an eternity of sweetness, he pulled back. If you thought he was blushing before, it was nothing compared to his cheeks right now, the deep crimson shade having completely recovered the canvas. Finally, his body's muscles relaxing, his features softening, a big, wide smile appeared on his face; the same that had been haunting you since the night before. The stupid smile. Just for you.

"I love you too, for real I mean." He let out in a soft drawling voice, once you had never heard coming from him. He brought his forehead to rest against yours, closing his eyes, not even processing this was really happening.

"I hope you'll sing again for me, Arthur." You couldn't help but add, a playful tone and a slight smirk on your lips.

"For ya, maybe, sweetheart. But don't ya come complainin' about the rainin' after."

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 1

I fully intended to put out the next part of Well Met, but I got a really bad cold and didn't get far enough into the next chapter to post it, so I'm putting out this one. It's based on this idea here. It is spoilery, so if you don't want to be spoiled, you can read it after the story is done.

I've tagged my regulars as well as those that expressed interest in the original post. If you don't want to be tagged in future parts, just DM me and I'll remove you.

Eddie IS in this just not for awhile. And Steve does have sex with other OCs, the only sex shown will be between Eddie and Steve.

Summary: Steve is an escort with Starcourt Services, who provides omegas to alphas with the money for all sorts of accommodations: arm candy at social events, rut servicing, multiples (including orgies), and sometimes, just sex. Steve is highly sought after, but after a run in with Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson at a fundraiser for a US senator, his world is turned upside down.

No monsters/omegaverse AU. Rockstar Eddie/Sex Worker Steve. Mature (especially in later chapters).

****

When Steve presented as an omega at the age of sixteen his parents were thrilled. They were going to throw lavish parties of all the best alphas in the state. Well, the appropriate ones, anyway. The good ones from conservative families of wealth and breeding.

Steve wasn’t looking forward to any of it. Which is why he breathed a sigh of relief when the doctors tested his fertility they told him he was infertile.

There was a couple other tests they could have preformed but his parents weren’t having it. How dare he be infertile! How were they going to recoup the cost of having an omega for a son, if he couldn’t have been an alpha?

The doctors informed them they had three choices. To the Church where he would be celibate and never seen or heard from again. This is what his mother wanted, but the Church wouldn’t give the money they so desperately wanted.

The second option was as a nursemaid for wealthy omegas who didn’t want to breastfeed their own pups. It had no real financial security because it was dependent on the elite needing a nursemaid in the first place. As callous as the Harringtons were, they didn’t want him to starve.

The final option was Starcourt Services. An elite escort service that would buy infertile omegas to pimp out to single alphas. They had a whole range of services. Rut servicing, gang bang and multiples (including orgies), and cherry popping.

The last one was how the Harringtons would get their money. Whatever the bid price was for an alpha deflowering Steve would be how much they would get for him. Then Steve would work for Starcourt until it was paid off. Then it would be up to Steve to decide what he wanted to do after that.

Most omegas would then go into nurturing fields, like teachers, nurses, and counseling. Not all of them did though, there were some really famous omega escorts in their fifties and sixties. Not even the best paid actors and musicians got paid as much as these escorts. They were lavished with everything they could ever want. Clothes, jewelry, trips to anywhere in the world. You name it, they got it. And they were paid handsomely by Starcourt on top of all that.

There was this really famous male omega simply called Roxie that Steve had on a poster on his wall. His contract had been offered to be bought out a record number of twenty-seven times during his career. People like politicians and diplomats, rockstars and A-listers, the elite and the powerful. Rumor had that one of the princes of Saudi Arabia had offered three times, but Roxie turned them all down.

Steve wanted to be just like him. But he knew that if he voiced that he would be whisked away to the monastery before he could even blink. So threw his lot with wet nurse lot. Saying that it wouldn’t be that bad, he could still save money to go to school and become a teacher.

It was the teacher part that really got Clint Harrington. No Harrington omega had ever been a teacher in their great history and he was going to let his son become the first.

So Starcourt it was.

When he turned eighteen he would be sold off to the highest bidder to take his virginity.

When the time came, Steve was one of the highest cherries ever sold by Starcourt to the tune of one million dollars. His parents went away with their money and Steve got his back blown by a thirty year old pop princess alpha, who still hires Steve to service her ruts on occasion if she’s in town.

*

Steve loved his job. What he loved even more than that was his beta handler, Robin.

“Hello!” he greeted warmly as she slip into his penthouse suite in the morning with his favorite coffee and muffins.

“Good morning!” Robin greeted back. “How was your night with Sir Kensington the third?”

Steve shrugged. “Boring. I loved the gala, but he just kept going on and on about how his estates had a water drainage problem and it kept flooding the basement. The first time I was sympathetic, the second time I was sincere, all the times after that? I could barely keep my eyes open! And! It strictly social, no sex. I would have tolerated it if there was at least the promise of mediocre sex afterwards.”

Robin winced. “Do you want him on your black list?” she asked, pulling out her tablet.

“Yes, please,” Steve said, pulling on a silk robe and sliding out of bed. “Send the usual black orchids and note.”

Robin nodded, making a note on her tablet. “And what do you want it to say?”

“When you take out a premier escort learn better material then irrigation. It was an irritation. If you want that kind of talk, get a mate for fuck’s sake. Passionately, S. Harrington.”

“Ooh,” Robin said with a grin. “It’s bitchy, succinct, and the most beautiful fuck you imaginable.”

Steve grinned back at her. “Thanks. I do so love to be bitchy. So what’s on my docket this week?”

“So you have a rut servicing with movie star Dillon Forrest starting tomorrow,” she said going through his schedule. “His ruts last three to four days and tends to get hungry right around day two. He hates cereal and protein bars or anything that ‘tastes like dirt’.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “As if that isn’t subjective as hell. And of course he doesn’t like the one thing that is the easiest to eat while literally out of his god damned mind.”

Robin hummed in agreement. “I’d try shakes, toss the protein powder in that.”

Steve nodded. “Make sure he’s house is stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables. Add some steaks or whatever to throw him off the scent. I’ll pack the protein powder in my kit.”

She nodded. “Next, you have the New Yorker charity gala with journalist Nancy Wheeler. She wants you in a tux, so I send in Pedro with your tuxes. Her dress is a metallic gold sequin slip dress with black lining.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I hate it when she wears metallic colors, it makes me looked washed out in comparison.”

“Sometimes I think she does it on purpose,” Robin groused.

Steve sighed. Nancy and he had dated briefly in high school before he presented as an omega and she an alpha. She actually had a mate, but Steve looked better on her arm at galas and charity events. That and her mate, Jonathan didn’t like the attention. He preferred to be behind the camera and not in front of it.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. “Put her on the pre-check list.”

Robin nodded. The pre-check list was a way to give the escorts a chance to decline an offer before it was set in stone. Usually the handler did that, but there were some cases where an alpha would pull shit like what Nancy did it was good for the omega to get a feeling of the event before the contract was set.

“Wear the dark blue jewel tone jacket with the black button up. That will prevent you from looking washed out, it’ll complement the dress and you get to one up your ex.”

Steve grinned. “Thank you, darling!” He leaped up and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”

“Also a heads up about the gala,” Robin said. “Tommy’s been tapped to escort talk show host Billy Hargrove.”

Steve flopped on the sofa dramatically. “Argh! Tommy’s going to be insufferable.”

Robin nodded. Tommy and Steve were “rival” escorts (it was mostly in Tommy’s head) who competed for the best clients. A three-time Emmy award winning talk show host was more “prestigious” then a one-time Pulitzer winning investigative reporter. Especially since that reporter was Steve’s ex.

“And with Nancy trying to sabotage my look for the night, he’s going to be gloating the whole time!” Steve continued.

“Well, thankfully you have a handler that thinks of these things before hand,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “If Tommy gets in your face about it, ask Billy when was the last time he had person of color as a guest.”

Steve sat up on the sofa. “He’s never had, as far as I’m aware.”

Robin shook her head. “He does the ‘pandering’ thing around award season to make sure the Academy doesn’t notice his blatant racism.”

“Oh,” Steve said, his eyes glittering with mischief, “that would be a terrible embarrassment if someone were to bring that up at gala for people in news hosted by a black alpha, wouldn’t?”

Robin grinned. “It would be a damn shame.”

“You really are my platonic soulmate!” He jumped off the couch and flounced off to the bathroom. “Anything else for this week?”

Robin shook her head. “The schedulers were wanting to keep this week a bit thin because of how busy next week will be.”

Steve glared over his shoulder. “Don’t remind me. Two multiples and a rut servicing.”

“At least the first one is just a threesome,” Robin said with a wince. “Two alphas that want a cute little omega to freshen up their sex lives without looking to bond.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, but the other is some manager of a rock band ordering a gang bang for them because their shitty song went gold or platinum or whatever.”

Robin grimaced. “Yeah, that is pretty tacky. What’s worse is that they are all alphas.”

Steve dropped his robe with a heavy sigh. “Who’s the rut for?”

Robin looked through her tablet again. “Oh well that’s something at least. It’s Lonnie Goodwin.”

“That is a relief,” Steve said, shimmying out of his white silk briefs. “Lonnie’s good for a laugh. Do you want me to see if I can get you and Vickie tickets to his next Netflix special?”

Robin lit up. “Hell yes. He’s Vickie’s favorite comedian and her birthday is coming up next month.”

“Done, darling.”

He got into the shower and turned on the water as hot as it would go. He needed to warm up his muscles to be nice and limber. He got out and dressed in exercise clothes to go for a run. He put in his earbuds and turned up his music. He stretched and warmed up before heading out.

Walking out of his apartment building, he waved goodbye the doorman, Keith and set off down the road. He was listening to the band who was requesting the gang bang. Steve knew that the best way to get over an awkward beginning was to talk about things they were interested in.

So as part of his prep leading up to a client Steve liked to go through their social media, if they were famous any interviews they’ve done. Watch any movies or shows they’ve been in. Just really diving deep into their lives so that it was less a transaction and more like a date.

It was why Steve was so sought after, he never made his clients feel shame for hiring him.

Unfortunately that didn’t always go both ways. An escort at its core was still a sex worker and people still had problems with those. Even the ones doing the hiring of said escort.

But that’s why each escort had a handler. A beta that could come in and break up anything that might go wrong. Which is Steve loved Robin. He had seen her take down a raging alpha like it was a Sunday afternoon walk in the park. She looked thin and scrawny, but she was scrappy and tenacious.

When he came back from his run he showered again to get clean and then he slipped into some comfortable clothes to lounge around in. He could have done anything today. The Starcourt management team was intent on making sure their omegas had plenty of time between clients to rest, shop, hang out with their friends.

Starcourt omegas were some of the best kept omegas in the country, and it showed.

Steve would have done those other things if tomorrow wasn’t a rut servicing. They tended to be heavy on the exhausting side. Both physically and emotionally.

Because despite being infertile, they still experienced all the things that fertile omega did. Scenting, bonding, heats all came with being an omega whether you had the capability to have pups or not. There were always going to be times an artificial bond would occur, even with all the blockers they were on.

The bond would fade after a couple of days, but it was still hard on the omega when it happened.

Half way through his binge watching of the latest Netflix K-drama, Pedro came in with the tuxedos. They were blue jewel tones of varying shades and styles.

Once they had decided on a short jacket and necktie combo, his assistant Janica came in with accessories to chose from. Once everything was picked out, they went away again.

He debated going out to eat over making himself dinner. A couple of the omega escorts he knew had a professional chef, Tommy chief among them, but he liked to cook his own meals.

He decided to go out to eat, because he was going to be locked up in a room for the next few days and needed to get out for bit.

He got dressed in his favorite blue jeans, a blank tank top, and white short sleeved button up, that was left unbuttons. He pulled on his Nike’s and grabbed his cell phone and keys.

There was a taxi waiting for him by the time he got to the lobby. He loved his job.

He picked a nice restaurant near his place and sat down for a damn fine hamburger and fries.

At the end of the meal the waiter came up to him.

“Just charge the Starcourt account,” Steve said with a wave of his hand.

The waiter’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to do as he was told.

Steve left a hundred dollar tip on the table and then wandered back to the front of the restaurant where the same taxi took him back to his building. Where he finished the series with a tub of cookie dough ice cream.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

So much world building in this. Which is why it takes so long to get to Eddie. But have no fear, none of what I'm putting in the next chapters is fluff. It will all make sense once we get to the Eddie chapters.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @lingeringmirth @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr

[danrishy-ava]

No words

AvM 35 spoilers!

(Includes HC I adopted from @/multifanforever : Green and Purple are able to 'speak' music and doing it when they can't find right words)

---

The door of the backstage room slammed so violently that all four of them thought that the doorframe would just break. No one dared to knock or speak, they kept staring straight, sometimes exchanging the hesitant looks. Green was pissed. And it was a huge understatement. From the moment he came back to his sense and more or less recovered from the stage falling on him, he didn't say anything that the rest of the Color Gang could understand. The concert went the opposite of what it was supposed to go like.

Blue was the first one to try and knock on the door. They slowly raised their hand and asked, hoping that Green would hear them.

"Green? Do you need a healing potion maybe?" They asked softly. Green definitely wasn't in the mood for the talk about the concert, but maybe he needs some healing after the physical damage he received.

"I don't need anything!" Unfortunately, Green wasn't ready to even see anyone. He shouted through the closed door. Everyone could almost see him clenching his fist. "Leave me alone!"

Red stepped forward, but Orange grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled back. He wanted to protest, but just the look on youngest's face was hint enough to understand that they should leave Green to be. The Color Gang slowly left the corridor. They still had to clean up the stage after all...

... Green heard the footsteps getting quieter and quieter, as his friends were leaving. His mind was loud as well, silencing everything around him. The amount of emotions that were flowing through was extremely high and much more than he could actually proceed.

Green kicked the wooden block than they used as table and it flew to the opposite wall. Everything that was on it fell down, vase broke, note sheets scattered around the room. Green picked up one of the sheets. It was the best music he ever made, he worked so damn hard for this concert.

And he didn't get a chance to play it. His time was completely ruined. The applause and cheering the audience gave in the end of the performance weren't his. They didn't hear his music. All they saw was him being completely humiliated by that stupid army of silverfishes. And even his friends were applauding to these bugs. They had fun, they just played with the creatures that made their friend feel so miserable and mad.

All while Green's dream to make a real concert was getting crashed.

He felt hurt. For everyone it was just entertaining show. At least it looked like that. Green crumpled the sheet in his hands, throwing in at the wall and breathing out. He still was so mad. So hurt. He couldn't just get over it. Couldn't move on and accept that things again went wrong. Not when he spent months planning this day. Not when he worked so much for nothing.

Green hopelessly fell on the wooden stairs, hiding his face in hands. The flow of the emotions wasn't getting any easier. Anger was standing out, but everything else kept overwhelming him the more he was thinking about the whole situation. Anxiety, embarrassment...

When that silverfish just appeared, gut feeling told him it won't end good. The performance was already not as perfect as he wanted it to be. He could see audience exchanging looks, whispering and such. Green was already nervous about how the whole concert will go, and the unexpected guest just made this anxiety worse.

And everyone saw it. His helpless attempts to return control, to make the performance go as it was supposed to go. He invited to many people. So many familiar faces, so many people he now wanted to avoid so he could escape this embarrassment and shame. Hell, even Purple and MT were here! And he just failed the whole thing he was so excited about.

He stood up, passing back and forth through the room. The note sheets were getting crumpled under his feets. Green took off the jacket and threw it on the floor, pushing away. He felt like he was the biggest disappointment for not taking control over the situation. On the other hand, how could he predict the damn silverfishes to get so tempted to play music exactly in the moment he was leading the concert?

He slowly sat on the floor, leaning on the wall. He hugged his knees, burying his face in them as tears come to his eyes. The happiest day of his life turned into the worst. And he didn't even know who to blame anymore...

... Suddenly he heard a voice from behind the door. It wasn't exactly a voice, no words were said. But he still could understand everything on some different level. Familiar, soft and comforting violin-like tone appeared out of nowhere. The melody was saying so much, so many things he didn't even realize he wanted to hear. He didn't realize as well that all this time he wasn't silent and kept letting his own musical voice speak for him.

The violin melody was soothing. Green rubbed his eyes, feeling tears on his palm after doing so. His breathing slowly started to slow down, as voice from behind the door kept reassuring him. It wasn't his fault that things went this way. He didn't overreact, he wasn't at wrong for being hurt with how the concert turned out.

Soon tears stopped flowing, the breathing became even. Only headache was reminding him of this breakdown he just had.

"Feeling better?" Purple asked from another side of the door. The voice, this time real one, was quiet, but Green could hear the worry in it.

"Yeah..." Green slowly turned to the door, not sure if it's a good idea to open it or not. "Thank you..."

"Any time." Green could almost see their smile. He closed his eyes as Purple continued. "Anyone would be upset in your place."

Green let out a relieved breath, leaning on the door. The feeling of being hurt with the situation didn't disappear, but he felt better. He felt heard and understood.

"Take your time." Said Purple, as if they felt that Green wasn't ready to come out yet. They both kept sitting in silence for quite some time, occasionally exchanging their musical voices. It was mich easier than picking words.

Everything went terrible today, but at least Green had someone who could understand how he feels without any word...