#Jimmy’s is…interesting to say the least | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ticktokrobotsnot · 11 months

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Hurricane

This is part 1. You can read part 2 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension between him and y/n.

Word Count: 9.5k

warning: alcohol, mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close, fighting, smoking

Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyone’s pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick.

“It’s not-” Carmen started. “It’s fixable.”

Y/n didn’t say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. It’s not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldn’t help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons.

“We just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.”

More silence.

They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didn’t want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.

Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile.

“Tell me something good, y/n.” Carmen mumbled through his hands.

It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you can’t make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good.

“At least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.” Y/n offered.

“Yeah,” Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldn’t make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died.

“And let's not forget that your “loan shark” is your uncle and he won’t smash your kneecaps.” Y/n jokingly muttered, “Probably?”

Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him.

“What's the payment situation going to be like? …What is the interest?”

“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”

“That's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?”

“Uncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.”

One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.

“You think there's going to be strippers?”

Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so… so…

“There will be at least strippers.” Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen.

Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasn’t able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, “Have you ever been to a strip club?”

She didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair.

For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasn’t worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.

“No I haven’t. You?” He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.

“Of course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?” Carmen’s head shot up.

“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”

“You worked in one? As a… dancer?” Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.

“You call strippers “dancers”? What are you, 90? No, I was not a “dancer.” I was a bartender.”

“Hmm” Carmen pondered before adding, “I knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.”

“My lack of coordination aside,” y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, “I spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.”

“I have a cousin in the Marines,” Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.

“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”

Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.

“Would you ever be a stripper?”

3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face.

Holy fuck… what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind. She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part? She was enjoying herself.

“I don’t think I would make a good one.” He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark.

He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second.

“It's your eyes.” Y/n humorously pondered, “They’re too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?”

Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy.

Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, “You could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.”

What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life.

Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired.

“Judging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and more…” Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment, “tempting.”

Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, “Carmy, you’ve got a big day tomorrow why don’t we get you home?”

Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his hand—warm, calloused, and undeniably strong.

After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place.

“Where did you park your car?” Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys.

“My car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.”

“You're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?”

“It's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.”

“That's how people get kidnapped, y/n”

“Don't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why don’t I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"

Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new.

“Let me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.”

“My place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.” Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad.

“It's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.”

Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"

“Let me do this for you…Please.”

Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.

“Ok, thank you so much Carmen. You really are…kind.” Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation.

“It’s the least I can do.” Carmen didn’t have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurant’s financial situation so this was the best he could do.

They both walked to Carmen’s car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didn’t want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night.

They finally walked up to Carmen’s car, and Carmen opened y/n’s door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car.

“You good?”

“Sorry.” Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.

“I can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark."

Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place.

Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmen’s boldness. Y/n couldn’t take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, “Let me look up the directions, I’m geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.” Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh.

“Geographical blind”, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up.

The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/n’s place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield.

“Thanks again Carmen.”

“Will your car be back tomorrow?”

“The day after.”

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”

“That's too much Carmen, You aren’t obligated to do this. I’ll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.” Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didn’t want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldn’t keep imposing.

“I’ll drop you off, it's not a big deal.” He left no room for negotiation.

Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/n’s side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed.

“Carmen, you really are too… you're just too…” Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, “Good.”

Y/n couldn’t see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didn’t know if she made him uncomfortable.

“Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow Carm.” Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off.

She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasn’t a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment.

She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to find his phone.

Carmen spoke first, “I just wanted to make sure you…”

“I got home safe.” Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories.

Y/n continued, “Go home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.” She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave.

“Night y/n”

And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didn’t jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out.

Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didn’t need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.

Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting.

If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over?

Awkward silence.

“Good morning.” Y/n started.

“Morning, did Carmen fill you in?” Carmen’s “uncle” asked.

"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.

“I'm Cicero…” Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, “Uncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming today”

No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in.

“As much as I love the mystery, I do have work to do…so…why am I here?”

Cicero spoke up, “Carmy’s got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.”

“Catering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilarating” Y/n said sarcastically. “I'll be there. I’ve got to the kitchen, I shouldn’t leave Tina alone with my prep-”

“Look, I'm going to be honest with you…” Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did.

“Did you work out front a week ago?” Cicero asked.

“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”

“One of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought you…looked…” It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. “They want you to be there.” Cicero finished.

“This is what you were holding off on, we’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?” Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously.

“Be there and do what?” Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasn’t really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.

“I'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.” Y/n couldn’t hide the look of bewilderment and relief.

“Jesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with them…Yes I can serve drinks. I’ll be there” Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.

“Do you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?”

Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.

“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly.

Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. “What the fuc-” Carmen fumed.

“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.

“Without you 5k, with 10k”. That made Richie stop laughing.

“Let me think about it.”

Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his “uncle.” Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance.

The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant.

Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow.

“I'm going to serve at that party.” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah, no shit you are.” Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly.

“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned

“Who says no to 10 fucking grand?” Richie exclaimed.

They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office.

The silence was killing y/n so she started, “It's just one day.”

“Only a few hours” Richie offered

“Which is basically just a few minutes.” Y/n reasoned.

“Which is really just a few seconds.” Richie added.

More silence.

“It's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.”

“Yeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.” Y/n remarked.

“You would be fucking crazy to say no.”

“Yeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.” Y/n chimed in.

Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. “That is not happening. You aren’t doing this.”

“It's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.” Y/n added, “God helps those who help themselves.”

“You're religious?” Richie questioned

“No, but he’s Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.” Y/n whispered.

“I can fucking hear the both of you.” Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didn’t really know how to convince him to let her help him.

“What specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?” If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries.

Carmen brooded in his corner. People didn’t give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n.

“I got something tonight.” Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.

They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n.

“Tell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?”

“That's one of many concerns.” Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldn’t let this happen.

“I'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.”

“You are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.”

Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

“You don’t know what it is?” Y/n had to resist snickering. “So basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap you…Do you want to see a video?” Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.

Carmen didn’t know why he was humoring this and he didn’t want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasn’t too bad…

Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not.

Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor.

Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, “Carmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.”

A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.

“You do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.” Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver.

Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft “yeah”. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow.

Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didn’t change his mind. “Why don’t you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request

She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k.

She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasn’t much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors.

A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/n’s hands and scrubbing for her.

He finally looked up, “I will be by your side the entire time. You can’t go anywhere unless I can see you-”

“What if I have to use the bathroom?”

“No.”

“No?”

“What if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?”

“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”

“You can't cross the counter.” Y/n wasn’t going to anyways.

“And I have to drive you home.” That stupefied y/n.

“What? Why?”

”What if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?”

“Carmen, you’re thinking too much. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not letting you do this unless-”

“Alright Carmen. We will do this your way.” Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good.

Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.

They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldn’t last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer.

The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie.

“Is it handled?”

“It's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.”

“That bastard said yes?” Shocked didn’t really cover what Richie felt.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “I know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-”

“No wise cracks.”

“Also, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.”

“Sure thing princess.”

“Do not-”

They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen.

“You can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's… and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.”

“Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?” Carmen didn’t say anything.

“How about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.”

Carmen smirked, “That's not really even.”

“I'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and don’t even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.” They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do? Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes.

They finally “found" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didn’t forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home.

The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose.

The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute.

The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived.

“Hey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?”

Carmen’s face betrayed nothing so she couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, “The band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.”

“Can I see what the booze situation looks like?” She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadn’t taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.

“Carmen, can you turn up the heat?” Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.

“I feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.”

Richie gwaffed,” Don’t worry you’ll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.” Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.

“Hey, save that for our esteemed guests.” Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed.

Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.

Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasn’t really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk.

The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didn’t stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible.

A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk.

“Payback time.”

Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better.

Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now.

The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the other’s ear just to hear each other.

“You gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen ”

“Who’s getting this special order?” Carmen smirked, he was having fun.

“The groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancée at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.” Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk.

“It's so tacky and…and…yuck. Hard pass.”

Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasn’t going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel “yuck” about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party.

“Have you seen the women here? Very pretty.” Y/n teased.

Y/n didn’t really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmen’s witnessing the same scene. Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.

The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself. Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.

Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, “Uhh, I haven’t really taken a look.”

Y/n doubted that but she didn’t want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes.

“You should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.”

“I can guarantee you that they are not.” Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.

“Hey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.” Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didn’t even look up from the water cups.

Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her

“I like it here.”

“So you like to watch.” Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together.

Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, “Yeah I do.”

“Mr. Berzatto, have you been drinking you’ve gotten, dare I say, bold?”

Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what?

“I think it's time to get this show on the road.” Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes.

“You promised, you wouldn’t.”

“I can't get to the counter from here…why don’t you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguard” Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/n’s dress was so tight and short that she couldn’t really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something.

Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, “Can I touch you?”

Holy…mother…of…fuck. Y/n’s brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy “yes”.

Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful.

"Tattoo?"

Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.

Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee.

“Your past the counter, chef”

Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter.

Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.

“For our guest of honor.” Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath, y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter.

Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm.

“Make it hurt.”

Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie.

“Its fucking boiling in here” Carmen commented, “Can you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.” Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought. Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. “Richie, the fucking thermostat.”

Richie complained but Carmen wasn’t paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.

“When is this shit show supposed to end?” Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible.

“Two more hours.” Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter.

“My ass and thighs are numb.” Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men.

“Would you like a shot?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seen a million guys take it, aren’t you curious?”

Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didn’t even know how to react. “I have to drive you home.” His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside.

“A shot of water?” y/n offered.

Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?

He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes,

“Hit me with your best shot, chef.”

Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmen’s face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position.

“How was that, chef?”

It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmen’s hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldn’t step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter.

“I can understand the appeal.” Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock.

Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. “Do you want to step out? I think I need a break”

Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.

“It's nauseating in there.” Y/n exhaled.

Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.

“I need to go to bed.”

“20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.”

“I need to see this place after it’s cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.” That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie.

A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.

Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.

“Shit” Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didn’t go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head.

The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there.

Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didn’t have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have the energy to make a fool of herself.

She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmen’s arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasn’t real. Like she didn’t see Richie bash some fucker’s skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch.

“Let's get you home.” Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car.

Y/n laughter died down. “I can’t go home, not with Richie in jail.”

“You need some sleep”

“And you don’t? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?” Carmen didn’t reply or look up at her.

Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her.

"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.

The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.

“Keep it on, it's cold here” Carmen muttered.

“I have a jacket”

“It's too light.” Carmen’s eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasn’t working. Carmen’s eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap.

Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness.

Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eye’s meet Richie’s and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Aggravated Assault.”

Carmen let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on.

Richie watched but didn’t have any motivation to say anything but a simple, “You got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?”

“We’ll see when she wakes up.”

Part 2

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boxbug · 7 months

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A Canary’s Final Flight

My piece for @trafficzine 4th edition! Get it for free here! 200 pages of excellent art and fics, incredible work from all participants and from the mods especially!! huge shoutout to the mods for real

Process notes under the cut! (I struggled a lot so it's a bit of a novel)

So the entire process was a Ride. I knew when I picked this prompt that I was going to have a hard time, because Jimmy’s final death had been illustrated a billion times over by extremely talented artists. But I had a Vision of the snapshot of the second before the impact, when everything is still but you know what’s about happen. It was very much inspired by the clip of Fog by Jabberwocky, bu the thing is, they have the advantage of all the build up of the fall, and that’s when the trouble started.

This was my first version, and obviously it wasn't working. And I was trying so hard, with so many iterations! Small wings, big wings, no wings, different poses, less backgrounds elements. I'd done compositions were everything seemed peaceful but something is Wrong, but it wasn't working this time.

So instead I focused on what rendering I'd like to do - I tried a painterly approach, for that visceral feeling, but it wasn't working either (but hey, I did keep the red sky, so, progress)

At this point I'd been doing back and forths for weeks and I was just as lost as at the start. Now that's my tip for people who make art of any kind, in situations like that, stop thinking about how you can make the best piece possible, and think about you can have fun with it (because when you aren't it's visible). And for that was, 1 - going back to using ink and pen nibs and doing way too detailed inking, and 2- looking at Dave McKean's covers for Sandman (which, funnily enough, was also a reference for my previous trafficzine piece)

And from there I was actually going somewhere! Between the jagged rocks, the red sky, and the increased verticality with the borders, I had hit the vibes I wanted.

I did some experimentation with the border, and even though I really liked the bad boys I drew they were taking too much away from the lonely desolation, so I actually used Red (Unecessary Redstone)'s idea of all of Jimmy's worldy's possessions scattered on the ground post impact, with the idea to make it looks like the central image is his grave being dug.

(and yes for a short amount of time the were supposed to be clock markings on the sun, but there was already enough going with the wings so I scrapped that) (also fun fact the reason why the wings aren't fully material but more ghostly is because my toddler cousin was watching me draw the very first draft and asked why he didn't just use his wings and i went :( so the wings are a metaphor now)

So from there I found a bunch of picture and took some myself, cut and assembled everything together, added shadows in all the appropriate places, and repainted some elements so that everything would look better intergrated (some of the wheats are basically 100% handpainted, the cardboard as well). This took a suprisingly long amount of time, but I was done!

Well I wasn't expecting to have that much to say, but I hope if you're still reading, it was at least interesting!

#trafficzine #limited life #limlife #limlife fanart #jimmy solidarity fanart #solidaritygaming #i forgot all the tags augh #curse of not posting often #mcyt fanart #mcyt #zine illustration #zines #my art

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theminecraftbee · 5 months

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you know it's INTERESTING to look back at the double life soulmate pairs and see how they're doing now, relationship-wise, because that experience shaped every soulmate pair differently, i think:

ren and bigb i'll put first on account of "we have no idea since ren hasn't been in the series since double life". when will our doggy come back from the war.......

grian and scar are... grian and scar, the soulbond alone is only part of everything going on there. i think being FORCED to team shaped them a bit into being a little/lot more stable in their relationship with each other in limited life and secret life, as well as maybe taught them a bit about each other's limits. i am... honestly not a desert duo guy there are people who can do the analysis of the soulmate bond's impact on them WAY better than me but. it's part of their overall arc, you know?

martyn and cleo are fun. they both are still clearly CLOSE but they are also both still clearly mistrustful and angry at each other! they have this whole "the only one who can kill you is me" dynamic going on between each other that's very fun. i think being soulmates... obviously they were one half of divorce quartet and the resentment of being forced together did some stuff to that relationship. but i think maybe it also sort of gave them something that they appreciate about each other as well? and they DO care, despite everything. (i could GO INTO THIS LET ME TELL YOU.) so like, they aren't close friends or anything, but they Know Each Other now. and that's a fun dynamic.

impulse and bdubs are funny because i think their bond both did and didn't shape them. the thing is, like desert duo, their soulbond is only one step in their journey, the one that ARGUABLY only settled out in limlife after impulse permakilled bdubs. (note that this is the first series where bdubs hasn't gotten a clock! he is FINALLY PAST that one relationship!) that said i think being each other's ridiculously happy married couple did something to impulse specifically, actually. i think it sort of confused and solidified the grudge and it also like, showed him the almost-happy-loyalty that he wanted in the world. i think these days impulse, at least, has a different idea of 'loyalty' and 'betrayal' thanks to that. and bdubs... i think it's relevant that despite bdubs intentionally CONSTANTLY THROWING UP BETRAYAL FLAGS, he never actually did it. and i don't think he ever actually would. but in terms of their relationship to EACH OTHER? the soulbond was, yeah, only one step in how that arc went.

scott and pearl are... interesting. it's funny; for one of the single most consequential soulbonds in double life, it like... mostly hasn't come up again in their relationship? part of this i think is that pearl's LONELINESS had more of an impact on her than anything scott specifically did, and scott choosing had more of an impact on him. so to each other they're mostly... normal? both a bit mistrustful but like... normal? it's in the ways they act with other people that this experience shaped them, i think; i could say something about scott's next major relationship being mean gills, and the way pearl is only now learning to be a part of a team that cares again. also, pearl's discovery of her bloodlust. that kind of happened in last life to be fair, but it's relevant,

jimmy and tango are surprisingly simple because they were one of the most stable and normal soulmate pairs, lol. they're each other's ranchers! they're still friendly to each other even when their teams are on opposite sides! i think having one relationship where he was the more self-assured one was nice for jimmy and tango having a guy who, rather like skizz, was never going to point out much when tango screwed up on account of Pot Meet Kettle was nice for him, and they both know it was nice. they both get more into the teasing now that they know each other better--a big part of the early ranchers dynamic is that they Did Not Know Each Other but now that they DO it's starting to settle into something shaped more like the kinds of relationships both tango and jimmy tend to have (and they are BOTH the kinds of people to have a lot of friendly mocking in their relationships i wouldn't be surprised if that gets Even More in the future)--but i think out of everyone they probably remember the soulmates thing the most fondly, given the degree to which they are still Buddies.

etho and joel are... good lord the boat boys. on the one hand: clearly they both still enjoy pointing out that the boat boys happened. joel gets... weirdly jealous of other people hanging out with etho? on the OTHER hand they seem determined to murder each other so so so bad. i like to think that their soulbond is a thing they look back on fondly from this but ALSO they both have such weird commitment hangups and bloodlust that maybe the fact they want to kill each other SO BADLY was inevitable. also interesting, though, is how much of this bloodlust comes from etho, given that normally you'd expect joel's relationships to go the other way. what i THINK is happening is that joel still feels a lot of loyalty towards the boat boys somewhere in his head (hence the jealousy and not typically being the one to lash out), whereas etho thinks of it as largely Done and Past, but thinks of it fondly--hence bringing it up every time he has to kill joel, and also the weird tendency to gravitate towards joel specifically. I DON'T KNOW MAN I WOULDN'T HAVE PREDICTED BEFORE LIMLIFE THAT BOAT BOYS WOULD BE THE SOULMATE PAIR THAT WERE WEIRDEST ABOUT EACH OTHER BUT HERE WE ARE,

anyway i just think it's funny to look back on the various soulbonds and realize which ones have had a big impact on sticking around and which ones haven't, you know?

#trafficblr #double life smp #sometimes i just sort of rotate the fact that the soulbond relationships have MOSTLY stuck around a lot #even though many of them arguably should have become less rleveant?#idk.#also oh god this ended up being long MY BAD

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astrowarr · 5 months

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i want to point something out, actually.

it wasn't grian's fault etho looked at the enderman- of course it wasn't. but this is one of the few times that, after his actions indirectly killed one of his allies, said ally defended him after.

etho insisted that no, actually, that wasn't grian's fault; it was him being silly, getting himself killed. he wouldn't even tolerate anyone suggesting otherwise. compare this to say, limited life: grian innocently pushes a button, killing his friend. jimmy is furious, immediately starts gnashing his teeth at grian because it doesn't matter if the trap wasn't his, this was his fault.

it's so interesting to me how grian, etho, and cleo prove over and over again just how strong they are together. they see the best in one another and they make each other better because of it. they give each other room for mistakes, room to breathe. this- at least for grian- is a long lost luxury

grian killed his friend, but he didn't lose him the way he always seems to

#this is nothing against jimmy btw. bad boys for life #just something that FASCINATES me #i love this little trio so so much #there's so much love here #unexpectedly #grian #ethoslab #zombiecleo #roomies #secret life spoilers #secret life #trafficblr #etho

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bookofthegear · 2 months

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You leave the room behind and spend twenty minutes trying to get the grille more or less back in place. It doesn’t really work, but you manage to wedge it into the opening so that at least it won’t fall over on anybody. You still give it a worried glance as you leave.

The only place left to go is down the stairs, so down you go. At the bottom, you find a smallish room with an alcove, a huge iron door that someone made specifically to be intimidating, and a sloping hallway to the south. You hear frog calls echoing in the distance from the hallway.

There’s a rusty faucet in the alcove. Jimmy says, “You know what’s weird?”

You are spoiled for choice, frankly, but you humor him. “What?”

“Every time somebody turns that faucet handle, it breaks. But every time I come down here, it’s wired back into place.”

You consider this. “Magic or plumbers, do you think?”

Jimmy makes a flailing gesture with his wings. “I don’t know. Maybe this is some kind of afterlife for plumbers and the bad ones have to stay here fixing the same faucet for all eternity.”

This is an interesting theory. It doesn’t body well for your dreams of treasure, but then again, plumbers get paid way better than adventurers.

#choose your own adventure #t kingfisher #ursula vernon #book of the gear

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shanastoryteller · 4 months

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Seasons Greasons be upon ye! ❄️⛄️ Can I request a little Sybok and Jim buddy au? Throw Spock in there too he feels lonely without his T’hy’la

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Spock is having a perfectly normal and pleasant conversation with Cadet Uhura when there's a cool hand on the back of his neck and he tenses before being flooded with feelings of affection and amusement.

"Sybok," he says evenly.

Their father had discouraged physical touch between them when Spock was a child. He'd worried that Sybok's unrestrained emotions and blatant disregard for societal customs would rub off on him.

Perhaps the distance would have been easier to do endure if their father had told him that, but he does not know. In any case, he cannot help from finding it comforting now, despite the lack of propriety.

"Spock," Sybok returns, a grin on his face that's most unbecoming.

Cadet Uhura is staring, jaw an inch lower than typical.

Sybok at least offers her the ta'al instead of something mortifying. "Apologies for my younger brother's rudeness. I am Sybok."

He would have introduced them. Sybok merely caught him off guard.

Cadet Uhura seems to shake off her surprise and offers him a beatific smile of her own. She copies his ta'al flawlessly. "Not at all, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your writings are most interesting."

She's read his brother's thesis? He had not known that Cadet Uhura was a practitioner of masochism.

Whatever horrible response this would have pulled from his brother is interrupted by an excited shout of, "SYYYYYBOK! BOK BOK BOK!"

Spock is aware that the last syllable of his brother's name is also the sound humanity has associated with chickens.

He'd still never anticipated it being clucked at him in such a manner.

He looks over to see James Kirk sprinting in their direction while Cadet McCoy tries and fails to stop him, shouting and reaching for him but James Kirk is out of his reach.

Cadet Uhura scowls, shoulders going back and her eyes narrowing.

Sybok's face lights up and he looks behind him. "Jimmy!"

James Kirk reaches them, grabs onto his brother's shoulders, and vaults himself up so his legs are wrapped around Sybok's waist and he's draped across his back. "You asshole! Why didn't you tell me you were on world? Fuck you."

"Where's the fun in that?" Sybok asks, seemingly unconcerned with the way James Kirk is draped across him.

Cadet McCoy reaches them then bends over, bracing his hands on his knees and gasping for air, "Jim."

James Kirk raises an eyebrow.

"Stop," he pants, pointing a finger in his direction, "this."

Cadet Uhura slowly moves her gaze across each of them, looking back and forth between Sybok and James Kirk several times. "Do you ... know each other?"

Vulcans have a religion of sorts, although it's more a series of ritual for the dead than anything formal, and there is no worshipping of any sort of deities. That sort of impracticality was purged from the society with Surak's teachings. Should he wish to indulge in such things, which he does not, his mother's family has long been disciples of Judaism.

Despite this, he has the sinking feelings that he's in hell.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #star trek

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heart4reigns · 1 year

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Could i request a roman and afab reader imagine, where she’s like a sexy badass bitch and she’s been his like valet/girlfriend ever since he returned as the tribal chief. A lot of people think she’s for looks and can’t fight, then during a promo with the judgement day she beats Rhea’s ass. It like shocks everyone, and roman’s just like hell yea that’s my girl and loves it. Lol thank you!🩷🩷🩷

TROPHY WIFE, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, blood, pet names

tags: locker room talks, everyone teases you, slight age-gap, bloodline bonding moments, dominik calling you 'papi', sexual innuendos teehee, judgement day teasing YOU non-stop

summary: you’re not useless at all

GROWING up, you were always interested in the wrestling. but you couldn't imagine being in the ring without any experiences. that led you to training on your own. to your luck, your boyfriend–roman, was the undisputed champion of the wwe. ever since his big comeback as this chief-like figure, it made you easier to be on stage without talking. you just stood by his side, staring down at the other party, trying to intimidate them for the views.

no one actually knew that you were going to debut soon as one of wwe's new wrestler, except for the bloodline. for now, you were only a 'trophy wife' for the tribal chief. everyone in the locker room teased you about being there as his silly little girlfriend, you were only there for the looks. "morning!" you greeted the twins, before sliding inside the ring. "one more show before your debut, how you feeling?" solo asked.

"i'm excited." you stretched your body, preparing for the fight with jimmy. "i'm not, i don't want to get my ass beat by you." he shook his head. "oh come on, i don't hit hard." you chuckled. "girl, you hit harder than anyone else here!" jimmy complained. "that's because she's been doing this longer than us." your boyfriend stood outside the ring, winking at you. "right, now let's go!"

and everyone in the gym knew that you were going to beat jimmy's ass in a quick sparring. "good fight, baby!" roman was pumped up. "see, i told you. jimmy's gonna be limping for the next two days." jey ruffled his twin's hair. "shut up, get inside the ring with her now." "oh, i don't want that, i have a family!" he shook his head. "GET YOUR ASS HERE!" you grinned with excitement.

work came and you were mentally preparing to face the judgement day. they were nice people but there were two people that got into your nerves; none other than dominik and rhea. they were around your age, of course they would tease you non-stop. "hey papi." he winked at you when you enter the locker room. "shut up." you rolled your eyes. "awww, you look so cute being alone." rhea chimed in the conversation. "i'll whoop your ass, rhea." she smirked at your response. "the trophy wife can fight?" "come on, that's enough." damien came in to stop the teasing.

as much as you wanted to tell them that you were going to be in the roster, you couldn't. creatives were holding you back from spilling the news. a lot of people loved you, but some thought you were useless. you were just there to look pretty. "you alright, baby?" roman noticed your annoyed expression. "dominik and rhea situation." he chuckled. "don't mind them, they're jokesters." you nodded in agreement.

before walking out, roman quickly kissed your forehead. "let's do this, baby." he muttered. the crowd roared with excitement as they heard roman's entrance song. you pulled off your usual smug facade, ready to face whatever dominik and rhea throws at you. as the four of you walked towards the ring, you heard several people calling your name. "(y/n)!" you threw a wink at them, causing them to go frantic. "god, she's so badass, i wish she was a wrestler. just imagine her in a wrestling gear." one of them said, you were trying your best not to chuckle and break character. oh, they would be very ecstatic to know what's coming, you thought.

to say the least, this was the 'feud' with the judgement day was fun. the new storyline on how you were taunted to join them was a breath of fresh air for the fans. when you first heard about it, you were also excited. they seemed like good people to work with, oh how wrong you were. knowing that you couldn't 'defend' yourself, everyone loved pranking and teasing you. "so, this is the tribal chief?" finn had the mic. "and you should be thankful that he is here in person, to see you all." the crowd cheered as they heard roman's response. "with his wiseman, his silent cousin, and his trophy wife, what a deal!" rhea yelled into the microphone.

"we're still waiting for everyone to betray you. the next time you'll see us, your little trophy wife will sign our contract. or give us your titles. loyalty doesn't exist." rhea smirked, the crowd boo-ed as she waved the papers. you had the mic and you stared down at the opposite group. "i won't be joining you, and you said loyalty doesn't exist? that's right. let's ask who created your group? is he still here?" several 'oooh's dropped as you saw rhea's eyes lit up. another strong girl in the ring, she thought.

the locker room smelt like sweat. you were used to it. "god, i'm so tired." you complained to solo, who was putting on his shoes. "can't wait for you to complain after every match." he chuckled. "you know, it's such a shame that your mic skills are being wasted, could've been an amazing wrestler, papi." dominik came inside the room, all sweating. "stop calling me 'papi', jesus." you chuckled. "i'll stop calling you 'papi' if you hang out with us soon." solo couldn't help but to laugh at dominik's sentence.

the remaining week was spent inside the gym. you were training non-stop for your debut. at one point, you had probably beat all the guys inside the gym, leaving roman last. everyone gathered around the ring, waiting for you to charge at him. "COME ON (Y/N), GIVE HIM HELL!" jey yelled. sure he was a loving boyfriend, but in the ring? another different person.

"baby, hit me with your best shot." roman was challenging you. "don't go soft on me." you warned him. "oh, i won't." your boyfriend smirked. you gritted your teeth, trying to find a spot to attack him first. before he lunged at you, you step aside to avoid him. you weren't stronger than him, but with your figure, you were obviously faster. he landed on one of the ropes, turning his back, facing you again.

but before he knew it, you attacked him with a spear. "DAMN GIRL!" jimmy shouted. you tackled roman to the ground, breathing heavily as he tried to switch places. "did you just speared me?" he asked. "i just did." roman clenched his jaw, trying to find a spot to attack you. you dodged it once again, going to the ropes. "you're going nowhere, baby!" the entire gym was pumped out.

you stood up on the ropes, ready to attack again. "FROG SPLASH HIS ASS!" you heard solo's voice. "OH WE'RE NOT GOING TO DO THAT AGAIN!" roman looked concerned. "DO IT! DO IT!" the twins chanted. "I'M SORRY, BABY!" you apologized before your attack. his entire body bounced back. "what a sell, baby." you chuckled. while being distracted on how he looked, which was very hot and sweaty, he took the chance to flip you over. "aw hell no." you muttered.

roman was on top of you, you struggled to move your body–but like usual, you were faster than him. you licked your lips, ready for another attack. "shit girl, you never run out of energy do you?" solo asked, analizing your stamina. the fight was almost done, you just had to make him tap out. with your agility, you could tell roman was getting tired. "how are you so fast?" roman was gasping for air. "you taught me that." you winked at him. the gym whistled over your answer.

"i can't believe you made me tap out." he chuckled, snuggling closer to you. the two of you were already home, chilling on the bed. "hey, you might be bigger than me, but i can definitely flip you." you rolled your eyes. "and that's what i love about you, you're fearless." he kissed your forehead. "god, i can't wait till tomorrow is over." you confessed. "nervous, are we?" he asked. "course i am." you sighed.

"i don't know, what if people don't care about me? like what if i'm only meant to just be a pretty face." his eyes softened. "baby, you know that everyone loves you right?" roman held your hand. "you'd be the brightest superstar out there, love." even in the darkest times, his words made you smile. "on the good side, we're gonna spend more time together. i look forward to it, baby." roman patted your head, trying to calm you down. "i love you, thank you for believing in me." "i'll always believe in you, baby."

you saw fans lining up outside the venue. paul thought it would be a good idea for the bloodline to go out and meet some fans. so there you were, with the other four, interacting with fans. "(y/n)!" one of them greeted you. "hi hello! thank you for coming today." you passed her a water bottle. "(y/n), god, when are you debuting? i'd love to see some ring action." one of them asked you. "i'm not a wrestler, babes." you told him, giving another bottle of water.

roman was holding your hand the entire time, not wanting you to let go. "wait i gotta take a pee." he said. "go piss girl." you chuckled at your own response. your boyfriend rolled his eyes and excused himself. you entered the locker room with your heart beating faster than usual. no one was inside, you arrived early to change to your new gear. you put on your usual black shirt, covering the gear for the surprise. "sup, papi?" dominik's voice startled you. "oh, good evening to you too." you greeted him. "got the script for today it says get ready for a special surprise attack, damn papi... are you the surprise?" he asked.

"well, let's just see."

you went over to roman's locker room, seeing him gearing up. by gearing up, he was taking off his t-shirt. you whistled your way inside. "you single?" you teased him. "depends who's asking." he teased back. "you look good." you complimented him. "i always do. let me see your gear." he winked at you. you took off the t-shirt and he returned with a whistle. "red and black is definitely your color, baby." he held your waist and kissed your lips. "it's your pick, handsome."

"damn, hope i'm not interrupting something, but we're up in 10." and that moment was ruined by none other than jimmy uso. "(y/n), your gear looks amazing!" roman glared at his cousin and closed the door. "give us 5 more minutes!" he yelled from inside the room. "now where were we?"

the crew ushered you backstage. you felt adrenaline rushing in your veins, you were no longer nervous. this is what you've always wanted and you had the privilege to pursue it. the judgement day went up first, rhea and dominik casually messing with you. "can't wait for the surprise!" dominik chuckled. "oh fuck yourself, mysterio!" you smiled at him.

"the bloodline!" smug face mode on, you thought. the 6 of you walked towards the ring, hearing the crowd go wild. you were the one holding roman's belt. he offered a hand and you gave him his belts so he could make his signature pose. as you stepped inside the ring, rhea was already holding the papers.

the promo started. "so, you're either gonna give us your trophy wife or your title, your pick, tribal chief." rhea mocked him. "your time is up, give us your trophy wife now." she continued. "we are not gonna give you anything." roman replied. "either you walk away or we walk away. leaving you standing here, embarrassed. having nothing in your hands." he was in his character and he looked so hot.

"see, there are 3 things that i love in life." the crowd chanted 'what?' as roman spoke to the mic. "first is (y/n). i wouldn't trade her for anything. second is my titles. third is seeing people like you thinking that you could get away with anything you want." he smirked. "and we're not signing your goddamn papers." he dropped the mic. it was your cue to walk away now.

as you walked hand-in-hand, rhea went over her lines. "walk away! like you always do! a useless group with an even more useless advocates!" roman looked at you, giving you the biggest smile that the camera couldn't capture. "go, babygirl." everyone was still walking back but you turned around. you caught everyone's attention.

roman's song changed to yours. "what is this? why is (y/n) running back to the ring?" the commentator said. the crowd roared as you ripped your shirt, revealing your gear. "what? that's a wrestling gear! can you believe it? the trophy wife is in a wrestling gear!" you slid inside the ring, quickly attacking the first person you saw. finn. he was practically grinning from ear-to-ear, excited.

you jumped and punched his jaw, avoiding certain spots that could damage him. the judgement day had an excited expression plastered on their faces; especially dominik and rhea. "bring it on, trophy wife!" dominik yelled. you quickly speared him outside the ring, causing him to fall on his back. "and you're fast!" damien smiled, trying to take a hit on your shoulders, only having you avoid it. "i am!" you smirked, using roman's iconic move–superman punch, against him.

rhea stood in the middle of the ring, ready to attack you. "so you're not useless at all, huh?" she stared down at you. "is she going to attack rhea? how is she going to survive her?" the commentator yelled. to your luck, you were able to dodge multiple hits. rhea tripped a bit, giving you several seconds to spare. you quickly picked her up and slammed her on her back. you looked over her, she gave you a small nod, indicating that she was okay.

your song played and there you were, in the middle of the ring–with a grin plastered on your face. "did we just witness the debut of the trophy wife?" one of the announcer said. "and there she is, the long-waited debut... what should we call her? the trophy wife? (y/n) (l/n)!" everyone cheered and stood up from their seat. you were gasping for air, raising your fist up. "(y/n)! (y/n)!" the crowd chanted.

"that's my babygirl!" roman yelled as he ran back to the ring and tackled you with a hug. roman picked you up on his shoulders, showing you off to the crowd. "i love you." you mouthed. "and i love you too." oh his expression is gonna end on a 'top 10 times roman reigns breaking character' video, you thought. nevertheless, this was only the beginning for you.

a/n: SORRY IF THIS IS QUITE LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY... HOPE YOU ENJOY IT <3 feedbacks are appreciated and requests are always open for any other wwe wrestlers!!

#roman reigns #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #wwe imagines #wwe #cody rhodes #the usos #paul heyman #judgement day #dominik mysterio #rhea ripley #finn balór #damien priest #wwe x reader #wrestling imagines #roman reigns imagines #wrestling #jimmy uso #jey uso

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spooky-luvur · 6 months

Text

OPEN 24/7

(Ghostface x Reader)

(Summary: Working at a gas station at two in the morning was sooo boring- until a strange customer changes that)

The bell rings for the umpteenth time. As part of your game, you make a guess in your head. Another old beer-belly? Bud Light, but maybe Modelo. Maybe a kid, reeking of weed and you’re gonna need to ask them for ID. Those are more common than you’d like to think about.

You listen to the squeak of leather shoes against the floor, not bothering to look up from your phone until the footsteps stop in front of you.

“How can I help you?”

“Something more interesting than me?”

The tone of the man causes you to finally avert your attention. He’s neither fat and bald nor young enough to require questions, if the shadow on his face is any indication. He's giving you a look, hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Not a mean look- you’ve gotten enough of those working at this crummy gas station to know the difference. The smooth brow and twinkling eyes is enough to tell you he isn’t mad and isn’t about to yell at you about the pumps not working. Not yet at least.

You flush a bit at the call out, awkwardly slipping the device in your pocket. Thankfully it’s just you tonight, so there’s no annoying coworker to rat you out for this.

“Sorry,” you tell him, trying to sound at least a tidbit professional. “Slow night, I guess.”

The man’s lips quirk but he’s not quite smiling. You wonder if he’s actually upset about it before he nods to the shelf behind you.

“Some reds. Gotta look cool and mysterious for all the people flinging themselves at me.”

You let out a ‘ha’ at his joke and he grins. You turn to grab a pack of smokes, placing it on the counter and he pulls out some cash to pay for it. Not unusual, but usually people his age love to flaunt their fancy credit cards to prove they have them or some other bullshit reason to flash the shiny hunk of plastic at you. Normally a shitty pick-up line follows it.

“Not very good for you,” you attempt to joke. The man raises his brow and you immediately wish you kept a gun behind the counter to shoot yourself with.

“I know,” he says. “Ever found yourself hooked on something, though? Can be tough as hell to break away.” He gives a kind of wry smile that leaves you fidgeting where you stand.

“No. Not- nothing like that, no.”

The man deftly tucks the smokes into his pocket.

"Right. Well, have a nice night," he says before turning on his heel and swiftly exiting the store, the encounter happening so quickly that it leaves your head spinning.

“Alright,” you mutter to yourself, a bit too stiff to go back to your casual leaning against the counter pose.

You’re still absentmindedly staring at the glass doors when the phone rings. The blaring noise makes you jump but you snatch it up nonetheless, stuttering out a hello.

“Heya, just checking in.”

The voice of your boss makes your shoulders relax. You suddenly can’t remember what they were tense for.

“Hey Jimmy, I’m doing fine.”

“Yeah? No robbers?”

“If there was, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d be crying in the freezer.”

“Ha. Never gonna happen, kid. Not when they know Big Jim’s the one that owns the place.”

“Course not.”

He reminds you to restock the drinks before he hangs up, leaving you sighing against the phone. A couple seconds after you set it down it rings again and you pick it up fully expecting for Jimmy to answer saying ‘and another thing-‘

But it isn’t Jimmy who responds to your hello this time. A peculiar voice echoes the word back to you. It makes you pause, and a short silence follows.

“…Hello?”

Snapping out of it, you instinctively adjust your posture as though the person on the other end could discern your lackluster demeanor and reprimand you for it.

“How can I help you?”

”Who is this?”

“…Jimmy’s Station. Do you need a pizza, or…”

“No, no. Was hoping you could help me with something else.”

“Okay…what is it?” You naw your lip, nervous for some reason. Your gut twists like you’ve eaten something bad.

“You got any knives?”

“Ah…”

You glance over at the rack of colorful blades on the other side of the counter. All shapes and sizes, all dangerously sharp.

“Yes, we do.”

“Perfect. You got any pink ones?”

“Buying one for your wife?”

Seriously, curse you and your automatic attempts to desperately avoid weird conversations. The voice on the other end laughs a bit. Or scoffs.

”Maybe. Think she’ll like it?”

“I mean, probably.”

“Hm…what about blue? You got any blue ones?”

“Yes, we have blue knives.” You answer, simply exasperated now. Part of you thinks this guy is just messing with you, but these seem like regular questions well enough. It’s not like there’s a lack of strange people out there that could be asking them.

“Well, that’s just great. Hey, could you do me a favor?”

Knowing he’s probably gonna say something stupid, you reply with a ‘sure, whatever.’

”Take one of those pretty, shiny knives- one of the really nice ones, you know? Pick your favorite color, even. Take it, really feel the weight- and shove it in your gut till you bleed like a stuck fucking pig.”

The phone is suddenly a block of ice in your hand.

“W-What?”

”What?” It mocks you. “You think it’ll hurt? I bet you’d like that.”

You shake. Why the hell haven’t you hung up yet? The sick freak on the other end laughs tauntingly. Like he’s actually having fun with this.

”You would wouldn’t you? I’d take your damn guts and string them up on the wall- really spice the place up a bit, it’s so dreary. Then I’d-“

You finally rip the phone away from your ear and slam it down onto the receiver. Gulping in a breath, you rub your hands down your face to steady yourself. Stupid prank callers.

Deciding you need to get the hell up and do something with your hands you leave the counter and head toward the back of the store behind the freezers. Upon entering you shiver, considering going back out to your car to retrieve your jacket.

You haul a box of beers onto a table and begin unpacking them, the repetitive motion allowing you to lose yourself in your thoughts. For a few minutes it’s a good distraction from the voice you keep replaying in your head.

Then your phone rings. Not the store phone still on the front counter- your personal cell resting in your back pocket.

‘Ugh,’ you think. ‘What is it now, spam?’

Thinking that, you ignore call and let it continue ringing until it stops. But then it happens again, and you’re annoyed enough to whip it out and answer it.

“Listen-“

”You’re being really fucking bad.”

The can you’d been holding slips out of your grip and explodes on the floor, wetting your feet. You curse loudly and fling your phone onto the table.

“What the fuck!”

The device slides off the table and clatters onto the stone floor. All you can do for several moments is stand there and stare as if the voice would reach through the device and grab you, carrying out the acts it had told you to perform on yourself only minutes prior.

Thinking quickly you hurry over to the freezer door and lock it from the inside. Great, now the only people that can get in and get you are people that work here. You can just stay in here till morning, right? Or maybe Jim will call again and you won’t pick up and he’ll get worried and he’ll call for someone to help you and-

“Saved me the trouble.”

A pair of arms wind around your waist and you’re ripped away from the door and tossed onto the ground like a sack of food. The concrete scratches your skin painfully as you gasp for breath, glancing up to see a kind of black shroud. It’s all you allow yourself before you’re scrambling to your feet and further into the room.

Only, as you stop in front of the back door that leads to basically the woods, you realize you don’t have the one think that opens it on your person. Your mind thinks back to the key ring in the office as you hear the shrouded attacker approaching.

“Please,” you’re saying before you even turn around. Once you do you’re met with a stark white face twisted in a dramatic scream. The figure is tall, you notice as it stalks closer.

“Already begging?” It teases you in a warped voice. The same one on the phone, you realize.

“What the hell?” The fearful tears in your eyes sting angrily. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Want do you want? I’ll call the fucking cops!”

He’s laughing before you can finish.

“Really? Who am I to stop you, then?”

He steps to the side and waves his arm to the doorway behind him.

“Phones just over there. Go ahead.”

Surely. Surely he’s messing with you. You’re not that stupid, and neither is he. And he knows that you know that, if the silent laughter that makes his shoulders shake is any indication.

“Fuck you,” you hiss at him as you press your back to the locked door. Your hands splay across the cold metal as if searching for a blackhole to swallow you completely.

“Such a dirty mouth! Think it’s good for anything other than cussing me out?”

“Get fucked.”

“Are you offering?”

You find yourself paralyzed with fear as he reaches into a concealed pocket, retrieving a knife. The silver gleams in the shitty light of the freezer.

“What do you want?” You take pride in lack of tremble in your voice.

“You were so rude earlier,” the masked man says. He slides a finger down the blade of the knife tauntingly. “Hanging up, and then ignoring me? Didn’t your mother teach you any better?”

“You deserved it, freak.”

“Oh!” He laughs. “You think so? Mm, maybe I was a bit forward…” He playfully taps a gloved finger against the plastic mask like a cartoon villain.

Your heart beats painfully in your chest but you force yourself to steady your breathing and consider your options. Right now you’re stuck between this obviously intelligent freak of a man and a locked door you have no hope of opening unless you suddenly get super strength.

“I see you thinking, doll. Wanna share with the class?” By now he’s standing mere inches away and you flinch as he brings up the gutting knife to trace the tip of it along the vulnerable skin of your exposed collar.

You steel yourself, tilting your head so you’re not looking up at him like a frightened child. “Get away from me.”

The knife pauses in its path up your throat and you nearly shiver at the sharp chill.

“Away? From you?”

A hand tangles in your hair and shoves you harder against the door, making you groan in pain.

“Go ahead and have an attitude again, I dare you. Double dare, even.” He hisses, bringing his mask closer to your face. You can’t see his eyes behind the cloth. Just a black void.

“I’m sorry…” you mutter, having to come up with something quick. Maybe if you convince this guy you’re totally giving up he’ll slip somehow and you can get away. Or he’ll see right though it and you’ll end up with your insides strewn about like party streamers. That’ll be fun for the next shift.

Your breathy tone causes him to pause. After a moment his chest rumbles like a happy purr.

“Oh, that’s good. I like that. Say it again, won’t you?”

You can feel his knife poking your belly- thinly veiled threat.

“I’m sorry.” You grow bold enough to slide your hand from the wall and onto his waist. You touch the man lightly as if he was a bomb you could set off at any moment. Which he is.

“I’m just scared. Please.”

“Of course you are. But it’s gonna be okay,” he brings his other hand from your hair down to your face to traces your lips with his finger. It would have made your stomach flutter if he wasn’t holding a knife against it.

“I’m not gonna hurt you too bad. I just wanna have some fun, but you’re being such a brat.”

“I…”

Your eyes slide past him to the open doorway. Your phone still rests on the floor in that room, but doesn’t he know about that? No way he’d let you anywhere near it. You’d have to think of something, fast.

A hand under your chin forces you to look back at the screaming mask.

“I hope you’re not thinking of it. I don’t know if I can handle anymore of that tonight.”

“No…no, of course not.”

“Good. Good boy.” His hand moves from your chin to curl around your throat as if simply admiring the flesh there.

“Please,” you push yourself off the wall and further against him, straight up pressing your chest to his at this point. His hand stutters against you and you don’t feel the sharp press of the knife anymore. “You’re…making me feel so-“

“Yeah? How am I making you feel, baby?”

You smooth your hands up his arms, having to mentally scream at yourself to keep you from fawning over the firm muscle there.

Maybe he’s too desperate to get his hands on you, or maybe he’s distracted by your hands on him, but he’s loose enough to not notice the not so subtle tightening of your grasp all of a sudden.

“So…urgh!”

You don’t know where you got the strength but you throw your entire body weight at the guy in order to shove him away and pretty much fling him toward a metal rack stacked full of boxes. He yelps in pain as he crashes into it, bottles spilling out and exploding. If the bitter smell of strong alcohol doesn’t suffocate him, his now drenched mask surely will. You use his momentary stun to turn and sprint to the other room, nearly slipping on the liquid covering the floor.

Your hands are shaking from adrenaline so badly you almost lose your balance once you crawl under the table to retrieve your phone. Breathing a sigh of relief once you have it you swipe to your contacts and click on the first one you see, the scream for help on the tip of your tongue. You don’t remember if your finger hit the call button or not before you’re suddenly grabbed by the ankle and dragged out from under the table shrieking.

You don’t have time to prepare yourself to meet the terrible mask once again before you’re flipped onto your back, but that doesn’t matter. A gasp gets stuck in your throat at the bare face that greets you.

“You…”

The man’s hair is damp as it falls over his eyes and he reeks of fancy beer. He’s breathing heavily as he sits on your legs to keep you still.

“Hey, doll. Funny seeing you here.”

A brief exchange- a single purchase was all it took to become a victim? He must see the realization on your face because he grins like a bully.

“I know, I know. I did good, didn’t I? Had to stop myself from jumping over the counter then and there. Knew the wait would be worth it, though.”

“You fucking prick!” Squirming within the man's unyielding hold, he maintains a smug grin while firmly clasping your wrists. You can tell someone like him is simply reveling in his sense of control. “I hope you choke on your damn cigarettes!”

He throws his head back and laughs. If he wasn’t currently holding you captive you probably would have blushed at this man’s boyish charm.

“That’s good, I might use that. You mind if I use that?”

You attempt to kick him off before there’s a hand on your throat and squeezing. You sputter, grasping at it. The man brings his face down to yours to hiss angrily, but before he can get a word out-

“Hello? Please answer me…”

The room fills with a thick silence as both of you freeze. You both pivot your heads in unison, eyes landing upon the phone which is nearly concealed beneath the table's shadow. The screen is lit up in a call, the name of your friend that lives just down the road splayed across it. You’d laugh in pure relief if you weren’t still face to face with the man in the shrouded costume.

The man on top of you faces you with a blank look and brings his finger up to his mouth in a shushing motion. As if you’re dumb enough to yell out for help now.

“The cops are on their way, I called them a few minutes ago. Maybe everything is fine but I just wanted to make sure-“

The man quietly seethes with anger and scrambles off you to snatch up the device, ending the call. He leaves you on the ground, breathing heavily and staring up at him.

“I know where you live. I know where you work.”

He crouches beside you and there’s that stupid fucking grin again, like a child that just stole another kids candy.

“I know where you go to eat, I know what roads you take, I know where you piss in the morning. I know everything about you, doll. So please, tell them everything and give me a fucking reason.”

You hadn’t noticed his knife was back in his gloved hand until it’s being dragged down your leg, catching the fabric of your pants. You suck in a breath and look back up to meet his eye, shaking your head.

“Good. I know you’ll behave.”

He stands back up and makes to leave through the back door, swinging the ring of the key on his finger casually. He winks at you before he slips away.

“Until next time, baby.”

Thirty minutes later you’ll be seated in your friends car as they drive you home, remembering the feeling of the masked man’s hands on your skin, on your body, around your throat- until it’s seared in your consciousness. It isn’t until you’re laying in bed that night that a shiver of fear, or maybe even sick excitement runs through you when you remember he still has the key.

——————————————————————————

(chat gpt fr saved my ass on some of this 🤫)

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x male reader #x male reader #slasher x male reader #slashers #slashers x reader

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salemoleander · 7 months

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BigB brings a pickaxe down against the soft limestone. It's not dirt, or loam, or even sand, but it makes him think of a burrow. Something safe to hide in.

He knows he's acting strangely, knows the others didn't all beeline to complete their tasks. But the second he opened that letter anxiety wound up his spine, like seaweed ready to pull him under. So, y'know. Might as well deal with it now? He keeps digging.

Digging and saying hi to Scar and being mean to Scar so he leaves and digging and digging. The prickling fear under his skin only abates once he's well underground, in the coolness. Not 'all the way down' yet, but the tension in chest eases.

Finally, some measure of peace. BigB supposes the 'and quiet' has been there the whole time, and he laughs quietly at his own joke. Leans against the wall at the bottom of the pit to rest. He's tired and achy and a tiny bit mad. Of course his task would make him miss out on the chance for allies. Well, maybe if he keeps–

A ghostly hand swats past his head, nails sharp and flesh see-through.

BigB whips to the side, looks around, again, again, and sees nothing. Just faint dust motes and occasional grains of sand falling from above.

It's not even cold? Or whatever ghosts are supposed to make happen, he's not sure.

Sighing, BigB says, "If you're here to kill me, can you at least make it entertaining, man? This task sucks."

His voice bounces and echoes strangely off the stone around him. Nothing responds.

He gives a forced laugh, lowers his head, and keeps digging.

His peace is interrupted not too many minutes later, after he's clambered back to the top to gather more wood for picks. BigB hears footsteps, and then Grian slides the last few blocks down an incline of sand into the cave.

Grian grins at him. BigB smiles back, slow and easy. Last game they'd ended allies, and that has helped a lot to loosen tensions. Still not interested in a day 1 alliance, though. Doubt submerged in friendliness, he greets Grian and asks what he's up to.

"Just bouncing around! Day 1, you know how it is." Grian seems energized, a bit furtive– normal Grian stuff. He looks past BigB, and an indent appears between his eyebrows. "Uh, what's with the hole, B?"

He has a defensive answer lined up, something circuitous and confusing about Jimmy and broken mineshaft generation and new stripmining techniques. Can't let anyone know your secret, after all; even if Grian's sly smile indicates he's probably just going to joke a bit and let it go.

Instead, BigB opens his mouth, and the words that crawl out are, "I don't know, G, where do the tasks come from?"

It's not a question that makes sense, not really. The tasks don't have to come from anywhere! BigB may just be overthinking it, or underthinking it, or something. And he shouldn't have even said that, because it might be giving away his task. Why did he say that?

There's a fire behind the words, anger that scrapes and burns on its way out. He's not sure why that's there either.

Color high on his cheeks, Grian says, "I'm not sure, er– not sure, yeah."

BigB knows he's lying. To be fair, he thinks most people could tell Grian was lying– he's not very good at doing it on the spot.

The smells of acrid smoke and dirt and sea-salt are there and then gone. His hand tremors; he tucks it through a belt loop.

Tasks don't have to come from anywhere, except these aren't just tasks: they're secrets. This game would be called Task Life, or Goal Life, or something, if that was the important thing. He knows how careful Grian is with his words (words like safe and soulmate and mine, all used to very particular definitions).

BigB is familiar with what being one of Grian's secrets feels like. The letter in his pocket feels like a friend. He decides not to ask any more questions, because he's not sure what will come out.

"Okay, just gonna cook some fish, and then I'll be out of your hair." Grian steps past him and hunkers down in front of the furnace. BigB feels a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He looks away.

When he looks back, he startles. Scar is right next to Grian, looming by his side.

Except this isn't Scar as he'd seen him earlier, standing around in a circle. BigB locks eyes with this other Scar, his eyes beady-bright crimson and set into a face wrapped in bandages. His hooded cloak is purple and embroidered, threads hanging ragged at the edges. The fabric around his neck is dark.

Slowly, movements jerky, Scar holds up a single bony finger in front of his mouth.

BigB's eyes flick down to Grian's back- does he not notice, in his periphery? Is he just ignoring this? Should he say something?

When he looks back up, the spectre is gone.

Standing in uncharacteristic silence, he awkwardly waits for Grian to collect the rest of his fish. Grian, happy to cause problems on purpose but allergic to tension he isn't the cause of, quickly folds and grabs the remaining fish with an "I'll get out of your hair, then."

They shuffle together to the entrance of the cave; he really needs to get some doors going in here.

Grian turns and fixes a stare just to his side, for a moment. BigB ignores it, and finally manages to shoo Grian off. He doesn't want to know who's haunting him.

Sighing, he shifts a pick into his hand and gets back to work. BigB finishes the task quickly after that, because when he pays attention the fear guides him. This task isn't about digging deep - it's about being hunted, about burrowing, tunneling.

He finishes it and turns in the quest book, receives his rewards. Resolutely, he does not look at the spectres trailing after his friends. It's fine if he just doesn't look, right? Yeah.

The rest of the session passes in a blur. At the end, trying to hang back and keep his eyes on the middle of the statue rather than any ghosts that may or may not exist, he hears Grian share his task.

Jokes no one would laugh at. Of course.

He idly considers a task based on his experiences in the last series. Something furtive and spy-based would be fun. Maybe something frog themed?

He does not think about what secrets his lives in the other games would want to share. Those seem like a late-game thing, anyways.

#bigb #bigbstatz #bigbst4tz2 #secret life #slsmp #fic #salem fic #i feel like the source of his task is pretty obvious but props if you know ^.^

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rickktish · 9 months

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I want Batman to show up in My Adventures With Superman but very specifically not ever once as batman. He needs to be that random rich guy who wanders in and trips on air only to faceplant right where Lois always faceplants in Clark’s chest. He can buy the Daily Planet but can never be seen to be even slightly competent. He needs to claim to have gotten lost and only appeared on screen accidentally at least once. He can show up once or sometimes twice in a season, do absolutely nothing of value except give Lois something to gripe over, and vanish into thin air. The words “batman” and “dark knight” can never be used, but “gotham” and “gothamite” can, specifically for the sake of sports game beef between the two cities and nothing else. Steve Lombard needs to hate his guts on principle over said sports game beef. He needs to flirt equally with Lois, Clark, and Jimmy, changing targets every time one of them enters the room. They can have 1 (one) episode wherein Lois gets jealous of Bruce for being attractive enough that obviously Clark won’t say no if he asks him out and Clark gets despondent because Bruce is attractive enough that obviously Lois would rather date him and Jimmy is neither interested nor does he believe either of them are actually interested at all but he will try to get Bruce to go out with him specifically so he stops interfering in Lois and Clark’s relationship. None of this should ever be mentioned again in the series except precisely once after Lois and Clark get engaged when they realize that they both thought the other was going to go out with Bruce and they can reassure each other that neither of them has eyes for anyone else. The only version of this character who should ever appear on screen in this show is Brucie Wayne and absolutely no other identity should be mentioned ever at all even once

#my adventures with superman #maws #mawsm #superman #clark kent #jimmy olsen #lois lane #clois #superbat mention #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #batman #he can have a maximum of 73 seconds on screen per episode he appears in #and not one second more #he should be a cameo at best #a repeated cameo if necessary #but a cameo nonetheless

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prismatic-ink · 3 months

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insane and deranged new hermit speculation

aka, one of them is very likely to be Joel.

First, some context.

Jimmy knows who the new hermits are. he said this in one of his Chunklock streams a WHILE ago, but I kinda thought he was joking. but he reconfirmed it in his current stream, with the cheekiest grin. now why would he know that....

also, Pearl said she had an important Minecraft recording that she had to cut her stream early for at 7 am Australian time, and based on Doc tweets, this seems to be the first HC 10 recording. Currently, Jimmy, Martyn, FWhip, Sausage, HBomb, and Scott are streaming, and they might not still be streaming till then, but if they were the new hermits they probably wouldn't be streaming right now. That leaves the two most hyped potential new guys: Skizz and Joel.

another VERY interesting tidbit of information: In Tango's patreon discord server, Cleo said that if the new hermits had TCG cards, they'd be Balanced/Builder and Balanced.

Skizz first. He would probably be the Balanced type. I don't really need to get into him being friends with so many hermits, we all know it.

However, I will say, after the last Imp and Skizz episode where Skizz talked about not having enough time to do anything I do think he isn't going to be in HC 10 unfortunately. It seems like it won't be in the cards until he goes full-time content creation. Also, Doc said the new hermits didn't know him that well, and while Skizz isn't like besties with him or anything he's been in his circle long enough to know him at least a little bit.

But what about Joel?

Balanced/Builder DEFINITELY fits Joel to a T. While his content is focused on building, he's also good at PVP and is a prankster, making him balanced. He's also close with hermits blah blah blah but here's some more EVIDENCE (actually just wild speculation). Why would Jimmy know about this? Yeah, he's close with Grian, but still. Maybe because he, Grian, and Joel came back from their trip yesterday, and the recording was today because it was the earliest possible time for it to happen for all hermits to be there, and Jimmy was filled in on this. It also explains why Jimmy seems so excited about knowing the new hermits to the point he's spoken about it twice. Obviously, he would be excited for his friend.

also this is straight up copium at this point but the shadow people on the new banner are based off a Steve and Alex model. If they were both guys I feel like they wouldn't go through the effort to make them different models. maybe,,,, maybe lizzie ldshadowlady? even though she probably wouldn't be into hermitcraft? maybe?? or at least a new female hermit. because that's the biggest thing against Joel not being a new member, if Lizzie isn't there with him it would be kinda strange ngl

#ALL of this hinges on the HC recording being today #cause a lot of people got ruled out if it is today #honestly the most important thing here is the tcg hint #like that is a huge pointer #man i sound fucking insane lol #hermitcraft #hermitcraft s10 #smallishbeans #skizzleman #grian #jimmy solidarity #ldshadowlady

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delulu-with-wandanat · 6 months

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Mockingbird

Reader Description: He/him, adult, early 30s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Male!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, angst?

(Now now, i know i put out a poll. BUT i started writing this and... oh well enjoy :> I promise the next one will be a lighthearted Wandanat HS au eeekkk!!!!!)

Summary: America Chavez gave Wanda what she wanted, Wanda sees the love of her life again from another universe. However, her lover's variant already build a life without her...

Y/n sits on the sofa with a huff and turned on the TV to watch whatever was available on Netflix, "What a day..." he said to himself. He loved his new job, but of course like any other person he just needed some time alone.

He scrolled to the various crappy movies and series that he hadn't watch. Deciding that he just wanted something light, he put on a sitcom that he watched many times with his late wife a few years ago. It felt weird not watching it with her even until now, but he remembered how much his wife loved re-watching the sitcom over and over to the point where she could recite every single episode by heart.

Y/n smiled at the memory, when the two used to binge watch Brooklyn 99 at the common room of the compound. Wanda even got to the point where she hosted a 'Halloween Heist', but it ultimately stopped after two heist when Natasha won in less than 10 minutes, yes both heist. Honestly they should've known better than to have those kind of heist games with a well renowned international spy.

At least they still have a few rounds of 'Jimmy Jabs' games.

Except they dialed the extremeness to a 10 considering they were the Avengers. We don't have to get into details, but due to the techs that they have and the powers they own, things get very interesting quite quickly.

Well almost everything in his life was interesting, I mean he's surrounded by gods, witches, spies. Not a single day in his life was ordinary...

Including today, when a portal in the shape of a star appeared out of nowhere right in front of him. The portal it self did not shock him in the slightest. What did shock him though was the fact that the love of his life, his wife, his soulmate who died years ago, was now standing right in front of him in the flesh.

Y/n was speechless. Ever more so, the fact that Wanda was choking what it looks like no more than 14 year old girl. "Wanda, what are you doing?!"

"Y/n..." Wanda breathed out, her grip on the girl loosen. The 14 year old girl then fell to the gasping for air. "I- I didn't..."

Y/n stood up from the couch, he couldn't move. His dead wife was alive right before his eyes, either she had rise from the dead or... well, there was only one other possibility.

She was from another universe.

No doubt in his mind that she was. In Y/n's universe, they knew the existence of the multiverse. "I just wanted to see you again." Wanda said with teary eyes.

Being a former SHIELD agent, he was quick to piece the puzzle together. This Wanda must be from a Universe where he had died. He tried to stay calm for her, even though inside, seeing Wanda again brought back so many memories. Happy ones, but most notably the painful one.

Particularly, a memory of the day he lost her.

Wanda noticed that Y/n had been silent the whole time, she hung her head in shame. "I'm a monster..."

Y/n's heart broke at her words. "No... Lyubov, don't say that." He approached her slowly and gently lifted her chin so her eyes meets his.

Gazing into the eyes of the woman he loves that died years ago was something that would never have crossed his mind. It took every, by that I mean EVERYTHING in his power to not breakdown right in front of her.

Little did he know Wanda felt the same, however the difference was her wound was still fresh. Staring into his beautiful eyes again, it broke her. Wanda broke down and pulled him into a hug, taking in everything she could.

His scent, his warmth, his comfort.

She cried on to his shoulders, and Y/n simply held her. It felt good, really good. To be in his arms again. To have Y/n hold her like he used too.

“I miss you, so much." She told him between sobs.

"I miss you too." Y/n responded. Wanda pulled back and rested her forehead against his with her eyes closed. The two stayed like that for a little while, yet the question still lingers in Y/n's mind. Why was Wanda choking an innocent little girl?

It seems like his mind is louder than he thought as Wanda answered the question. "I... When you died, I couldn't- I couldn't move on." She told him hesitantly as she opened her eyes. Fear and guilt painted over her face as she thought of the potential reactions she would get from Y/n.

He glanced at the 14 year old girl behind her, Wanda noticed the way his eyes shifted. She felt the need to explain herself, he deserved to know the truth. To know the extent she went just to be with her lover again.

"I... I chased down, America Chavez. She was the key..." He shifted his eyes back to hers. Key?? "I tried to-" The words got stuck in her throat. "I tried to kill her..." She cried, hanging her head in shame. Y/n's eyes widen at her words.

Wanda... a killer? How bad was her universe treating her to the point where she goes to that extent??

An embrace, was the last thing Wanda had expected to receive from him. She expected a look of disappointment, shame, anger, yet all he did was simply pulled her into a hug.

"I understand."

That was when Wanda started crying against his chest. He was taller, so he kissed the top of her head lovingly. With her ears pressed against his chest, she could listen to his heartbeat. It was the calmest sound she hasn't heard in a while.

"I... I lost you, In my universe. I understand how you feel." Y/n remembered the day Wanda sacrificed herself for the soul stone. After the battle he begged, begged the Avengers to use the stones to bring her back. To have her in his arms again. To hold her...

Wanda felt his emotions. Anger, sadness, grief, Wanda felt it all as memory of her own death came back flooding his mind like a tidal wave. She held him tighter, knowing that he needed this just as much as she does. After a long while, they pulled back resting their foreheads against each other. Both with tears streaming down their eyes.

Wanda cupped his face, she felt Y/n leaning to her touch. When they gazed into each other once again, Wanda, without a second thought, pulled him down for a kiss.

Y/n reciprocated just as quick. Wanting to feel her soft lips after 4 long years. He missed it. Her soft touches, the taste of her lips, her beautiful voice. He missed her so dearly.

Wanda wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Holding onto his figure almost desperately. They held onto each other as they poured all the love they couldn't express with words through their actions.

After a long while, Wanda broke the kiss. "Let's not leave each other again."

Y/n clenched his jaw, he moved his hand from her waist to her face, caressing it. "I want that, more than anything..."

Wanda smiled, a genuine smile that she haven't had for the longest time. Yet... she noticed a hint of hesitation on Y/n's part. "What is it, love?"

He had to tell her, but he didn't know how. Y/n could tell she was broken, broken beyond repair that she goes to this extent. He doesn't know how to break the news to her. "Wands... I want you back, more than anything."

Slowly her smile fades. God he wishes he could bring it back.

"But... you can't stay here..."

That shattered Wanda's heart, "W-why?" Did he not love her just as much? He was a variant of her lover yes, but surely they would share the same love. Did he find someone else?? "What makes you say that?" She asked, from the tone of her voice Y/n could tell his words broke her heart.

"You can't... stay in my universe. And I can't- I can't stay in yours."

"W-why?"

"It would cause an incursion. It will destroy my universe and maybe even yours. I can't let that happen, Wands. I'm sorry." He told her gently while caressing her cheeks.

Her eyes started to pool again as she leaned to his touch. "Why... Why does it have to be like this- Why is the universe to cruel..."

Y/n wanted so badly to erase her sadness, her grief, to see her beautiful smile again. "If I was as powerful as you, I would've ventured across the multiverse for you. But, I'm just a human. The only thing I could do was... move on."

Move on

The word echoes in her head. Y/n had moved on. She looked at him in disbelief. "Move on?" Wanda breathed out.

Y/n clenched his jaw again, "Move on isn't the right word. You will always have a special place in my heart, but... I couldn't stay like that forever. I'm sorry, Wanda." He remembered the countless times he almost took his life, just to be with her again.

Wanda was... angry? Sad, heartbroken, deep down she understood. If she had died, she would've wanted him to live on. The same way her Y/n told her too. Yet part of her was still corrupted. How can he move on so quickly when she would destroy everything just to be with him again?

Anger was boiling inside her, before she could ask any further, they heard a little girl's voice. "Daddy?" Wanda was shocked to her core. Y/n... has a daughter.

Y/n quickly wiped his tears and turned around to face the 4 year old girl. "Heyy pumpkin." The little girl ran over to her father as he bent down to pick her up. "What are you doing up this late huh?" He asked her.

"Bad dream..." The little girl said while rubbing her eyes, yet it was clear she was still sleepy. Y/n turn to face Wanda with a gentle smile as he held his daughter.

Wanda was speechless, the sight... warmed her shattered heart. She was happy for him, but devastated that he had built a life... without her. The thought of Y/n having a kid, a family with someone else felt like a stab in her heart.

"Who's that?" The little girl asked, pointing at Wanda who was standing a few centimeters away from them with her hand on her chest. Trying so hard not to burst into tears.

Shit... how should he say this. "Honey, this is..." He wanted his daughter to know. But, she was too young. "...a very dear friend of mine. She has magical powers and came to visit me."

'Dear friend', so Wanda truly is out of his life.

The little girl waved at Wanda. "Hello!"

"Hi..." Wanda whispered. She wanted to hold the little girl. Wanda felt some sort of connection with her that she couldn't quite pin. It seems like the little girl felt the same as she leaned towards Wanda with grabby hands. Y/n took a few steps closer to Wanda, slowly.

"I think she wants to be held by you." Y/n said, looking at his daughter lovingly.

"May I?" Wanda asked, glancing at him. He nodded and gently moved his daughter onto Wanda's arms. The first thing the little girl did was reach up to touch her crown while giggling. “Oh-“

The action caused Wanda to laugh a little too. His daughter is beautiful. She definitely has her father’s hair. But her facial features probably leaned more towards her mother, whoever it is. Probably someone she knew as the little girl looked so... familiar.

“Magic?” The little girl asked.

Wanda smiled gently as she hovered her hand in front of the little girl. She projected a tiny rabbit that hopped around her hand, causing the little girl to giggle while clapping her hand. The bunny hopped around the little girl as well before disappearing into a red mist.

Unbeknownst to Wanda, Y/n doing everything in his powers not to break down at the sight before him. “Are you friends with my mama?

Wanda didn’t know how to answer that. “Um…”

“My daddy says my mama has magic powers, like you!” The little girl explained.

“Has your Mama talked about me?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The only other person who she know was a witch is Agatha.

"No..." The little girl said sadly. "Dad says she's somewhere up there." She pointed at the ceiling, Wanda understood what she meant. "He said we'll visit her one day!"

"Oh... I see." Well, what was she supposed to say. The little girl then played with her crown again, and Wanda lets her. Loving smile plastered on her face. It seems like the little girl was studying her face as well??

"You look a little bit like her?" Y/n's daughter blurted out. Could it be? No it can't be. "My mama had brown hair though, yours is red."

Deciding she didn't want to get her hopes up, she asked the girl a question. Hoping to steer the subject. "What's your name?"

"Wanda." The little girl answered, she was too pre occupied with Wanda's crown to notice the shift in Wanda's expression. "My daddy says my mama has the same name too." The little girl added.

Oh... It all makes sense now. The connection she felt toward the little girl.

Wanda finally glanced at Y/n who had a sorrow look plastered across his face. That was when she finally noticed the difference, this Y/n indeed looked much much older than the one from her universe. Her heart stammering in her chest. This wasn't just Y/n's daughter... It's their's.

Y/n approached the two of them, they didn't know how long time had passed. Probably a while, as little Wanda had decided to nestle on the crook of her mother's neck with her eyes closed. Wanda searched Y/n's eyes for explanation.

"You-" He corrected himself, "Her mother, had complications with pregnancy." He explained while tucking a hair behind his daughter's ear, watching her sleeping form with a small smile. "So, Tony made us an artificial womb to carry this little devil."

Wanda looked at his- her daughter's sleeping form. It felt surreal.

"But uh..." His voice cracked slightly, "Wanda and I got sent on a mission, to bring everyone back from the snap. We won... but I lost her." It was clear that the memory brought so much pain to him. "Not long after that this little bug was born. Wanda... never got to meet her. So I named her after her mother."

No wonder the girl looked familiar, she had took on most of Wanda's facial feature. Her nose, her face structure, but most notably her eyes. She looked exactly like how she was when she was younger.

"I would never forget you, Wanda." He whispered so only she could hear. Wanda glanced at Y/n who had tears in his eyes.

Wanda was at lost for words, the only thing she could came up with was. "She has your hair."

Y/n chuckles, "Yeah... that's kind of the only thing she got from me." He had a longing look as he stared at little Wanda holding onto her mother. A sight he wished he could've seen with his Wanda, but she was taken away from him before she could ever meet her own daughter. "I was lost for days, but then when she was born I-" He stopped himself, trying to find the right words. "I had to be strong, for her sake."

Y/n slowly wrap his arms around the two of them, the sight of the family was perfect. America, who had been watching their whole conversation was touched by the image. To see the contrast of how Wanda used her powers in front of her daughter. How tender she was, the power that caused so much chaos to be used in such a gentle way. It reminds her a little bit of her own mothers.

"If she wasn't here I-" Y/n's words got stuck in his throat, "I think I would've..." Yet Wanda knew what he meant, her heart shattered for him.

"Y/n..." Wanda closed the distance and rested their foreheads once more with their daughter sleeping soundly on her shoulder.

They stayed there for a few minutes, just enjoying the warmth from each other. Wanting so badly to be the perfect family that they could've been if the universe wasn't so cruel. Another thought creeped into his mind, how was he supposed to explain this to their daughter when she remembers?

Surely it was probably because of sleepiness that she couldn't properly remember her mother's face. But she has seen multiple pictures of her mother, how was he supposed to explain that this Wanda was a variant.

His thoughts was so loud that Wanda could hear it clearly. "It's ok." She said, giving him a reassuring smile. Wanda raised her hand slowly, little red mist emitting from the tip of her fingers. She tapped their daughter's temple ever so gently. Causing little Wanda to nestle further into her neck with a faint smile.

"Rest your head and go to sleep, little one. When you wake up, this will all just be a dream." Wanda whispered.

ᗢ

"Hey, pumpkin. Time to wake up." Wanda Y/l/n, slowly opened her eyes. She yawned and stretched her arms. Her father was smiling softly at her, she sat up on her bed and rubbed her eyes.

"I had a dream..." The little girl told her father. Unknown to her, Y/n tensed slightly.

"Was was it about?" He asked.

"Mama came to visit us instead." The little girl didn't understand why, but she felt extremely sad as she started to cry. Y/n was quick to pull her into a hug.

"Shhh... It's ok little one, don't you cry." He held his daughter as she cried in his arms. "Everything's gonna be alright."

"Why couldn't she stay?"

He thinks for a second before answering, "I know mommy's not here right now, but I promise she's gonna be alright."

And if you ask me to, daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. Imma give you the world. Imma buy a diamond ring for you, Imma sing for you, I'd do anything for you To see you smile

#wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x masculine!reader #wanda x male y/n #mcu #wanda imagine #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch

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whorefortheevans · 1 year

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Not His Type - Jimmy Darling x Fem!Reader (18+)

I genuinely can't tell if this is good or not lmfao, I haven't written smut in literal yearsss and I've never written for ahs please help me.

CW: fingering, oral (fem receiving), public sex, slight praise at the end word count: 1316

"I'm telling you, Ethel, I'm definitely not his type," you explained, for what felt like the millionth time, to Jimmy's sweet mother. She and you have become increasingly close over the time that you've been working at the freakshow. Two years ago, you came looking for a job, just something small to make at least a little money. Elsa turned you down at first, because you were nothing short of normal, but after offering (begging) to help Ethel with the cooking, she finally gave in.

"How do you know what his type is? You've never asked 'im," she responded, continuing to chop the vegetables you both were preparing for the night's dinner. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and sliding the diced onion into a large pot.

"He likes Maggie. And what's not to like? She's blonde, thin, pretty face..."

Ethel glanced up with a small smirk creeping onto her lips. "Listen, Y/n, I've known Jimmy my whole life and I'm telling you, he's liked you for a while now."

Jimmy was the first guy you had shown any interest in. Most of them are crude and only want one thing, but he was the first man to ask for your name, take your hand and gently kiss your knuckles as an introduction. Well, needless to say he's had you since day one.

"Nope," you denied. "I am not his type, not even close."

"Not who's type?" Jimmy asked, striding into the tent. He had a playful smile on his face, and you turned away from him immediately, praying that the blush on your face wasn't as apparent as it felt.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," you said quietly. "Just boring girl talk."

Ethel put her knife down on the table and turned to you. "Oh, you know what? I forgot to grab a carrot, I'll go find one, don't wait up!" she said, half yelling as she quickly walked out of the tent, leaving you and Jimmy alone.

You suppressed a grin and rolled your eyes, standing in front of the table and starting to cube a potato. You saw Jimmy move towards you out of the corner of your eye and felt your heart flutter. It's stupid for him to have this hold over you.

"Hi, Y/n," Jimmy said in a sing-song voice.

You smiled and looked up at him. "Hi, Jimmy."

"Who's the lucky guy?" he asked.

"What lucky guy? The one who doesn't like me back?" He grinned and shortly nodded. "It doesn't matter. I have no chance." you said, looking back at the medley on the table.

Jimmy came closer to you, now standing just mere inches away, his body heat making you impossibly warmer. "Put the knife down, Y/n."

You placed the knife onto the cutting board and pushed it away from the table's edge. You turned to Jimmy, who took your wrists in his hands and smiled at you. "Who's the lucky guy?"

He leaned his head towards yours, nudging your cheek with his nose. You gasped, trying to control your breath and slow your heartbeat, but you knew it was no use. "Um, it's you, Jimmy," you said, awkward and quiet. You felt him smile against your skin.

"And who says you're not my type?" he said, clearly amused, but your sense of embarrassment dwindled quite quickly. You didn't answer him. Your words were caught in your throat and his proximity was making you very nervous.

He didn't press the issue further, and instead kissed your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, and after a small pause to look into your eyes, he smiled again and placed his lips on yours.

His hands grasped your waist, and you placed yours on his shoulders for stability. He gently bit your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from you, and he continued to kiss his way down your jaw to your neck, biting and licking until he found the spot that made you moan yet again.

He sucked on the skin just below your ear, and you threw your head back to give him space. He walked you back a few steps, until your lower back hit the table behind you. Jimmy pulled away and lifted you up, sitting you down on the cleared space of the table. Now standing between your legs, he reached his hands under your shirt and pulled it off.

His left hand massaged your breast, hardening your nipple and sending chills down your spine. His right hand moved further down, rubbing soft circles over your clothed clit. You moaned and pulled your head away from him.

"Is this okay?" he asked you.

"Your mom will be back soon," you said, although you didn't want him to stop.

"We'd better make this quick then, lift your hips." he said, as he quickly pulled down your pants and underwear in one go.

"Jimmy! The food is right here!" you exclaimed, your heart pounding steadily.

He laughed and kissed down your body, positioning himself on his knees right in front of your dripping pussy. "The heat will cook off anything bad, don't worry." He ran his fingers through your wetness and stuck them in his mouth. "You taste delicious," he said, kissing your thighs, inching closer to where you most want him.

"Jimmy, please," you whimpered, wriggling your hips to try and find some sort of friction.

"Please, what?" he teased, looking up at you.

You groaned in embarrassment, "Please touch me, lick me...anything."

He smiled up at you and lightly kissed your clit, sticking his tongue out and flattening it against you. You gripped the edge of the table and let your head fall back in pleasure.

He kitten licked your clit before briefly pausing, and running his tongue from the base of your pussy back up to your clit, sucking it and kissing it in a way you've never felt before.

You let out a series of moans, trying to keep them quiet in case anyone was near enough to hear. You moved your hand into his hair and pulled on it, causing him to moan and send vibrations through your core. You leaned back on your left hand, hoping it would be enough to support you through this.

Jimmy took his right hand from where it rested on your thigh and plunged his middle two fingers into your hole, pushing them as far in as possible before withdrawing them. He began to pump them, slowly at first, and as your moans got louder his hand went faster.

You could feel your arousal dripping out of you, running down to your asshole and collecting on Jimmy's chin. It wasn't long before you were a wriggling mess. You could feel your pelvic muscles tightening and your walls started to clench around his fingers. "Jimmy, I-I'm gonna...cum," you moaned out.

Jimmy took his mouth away from you and pumped faster, if that was even possible. He took his left hand and rubbed hard, fast circles on your clit and looked up at you, your mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. "Cum for me, Y/n. Cum on my fingers like a good girl,"

That was all you needed before he sent you over the edge. You bit your knuckles, trying to keep quiet but your moans still sounded loud in your ears. You clenched tightly around Jimmy and squeezed your legs together as the pressure inside you was released.

Jimmy took his fingers out but rubbed your clit through your orgasm before helping you put your pants back on. He stood up, wiped his mouth on his arm and smiled at you. "Who says you're not my type?" he grinned, backing away from you as Ethel came back in, holding up two carrots.

"Found 'em," she said, before setting them down on the opposite side of the table and sending you a playful smirk.

#ahs asylum #ahs freakshow #ahs coven #ahs cult #evan peters #evan peters fanfiction #american horror story #jimmy darling #jimmy darling fanfiction #jimmy darling x reader #jimmy darling smut #jimmy darling ahs #ahs smut

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 7 months

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Mamma mia | chapter five

listen to: Why did it have to be me? - Abba | I don't miss you at all - Finneas (playlist here)

warnings: accidental pregnancy, smut 18+, raising a child alone. warnings will be added as the story progresses. For this chapter single-mothering? and stupid boyfriends.

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

The sun was coming down, casting a warm golden glow over the pristine beaches and the navy-blue waters. The breeze carried the sweet scent of saltwater and sunscreen as you entered the Hard Deck, following James and August.

The day was a quintessential summer day.

After Augustine had kicked both Coyote and Jake, reasonably quickly after James had finished, literally. She chased them out of the house. They barely had time to pick up their clothes; James and you threw the rest of their belongings through the window while you laughed as they dressed in the front yard.

You can still feel Jake’s eyes on you. He winked at you while running away from Augustine, who was about to shower them with the hose. You’d shamelessly screamed at him, ‘Call me!’ still ran through your mind, and how his green sea-foam eyes shined as he saluted you was still imprinted in your heart.

Soon after, you biked to the beach; even with your injured wrist, you forced yourself to drive because the day was too beautiful not to spend it outside. By the time you were biking back, you bumped into a larger-than-usual crowd around the Hard Deck. Augustine quickly forced you to stop as she saw a group of Navy newbies walking into the Hard Deck. Parking your bikes in the back, you quickly ran inside, still in your swimsuits; your laughter and excitement filled the air, blending with the cheerful chatter of other patrons.

The bar was too full; it’d been a while since you’d seen it like that. Maybe it was the fact that you’d been under the sun all day, or the fact that the bar was too crowded, the fact that you mainly drank homemade lemonade and barely any food, maybe it was the fact that you had had your first orgasm that morning but, even in your bikini and body wrap, your body felt like it was simmering, a soft heat surrounding you.

“Here!” Augustine screams as she drags you to a small spot near the bar, where you take in the sight around you.

Sailors in their crisp uniforms mingled with locals and visitors. There was this aura around the bar. A sticky general sense of content filled the air, heavy like honey. The tropical breeze that managed to get through the window licked at you as you scanned the bar, momentarily gazing at your friends laughing.

You stay still for a moment. Trying to paint the memory in your mind, to add the scent of the bar, the scent of summer, scan it in your face, remember every second of that day. Your heart swells as you take everything in. Every last memory of the moment.

Of your last summer.

“You don’t have to change places at the table?” James says as Jimmy brings your drinks, recalling how August sat on the opposite side of the table from where you and Jake had. God, you turn maroon every time you think about the morning.

“Of course I have!” August grumbles as she remembers how she will now sit on your spot, far from where Jake had you.

“I disinfected it with alcohol!” you answer as you sip the Martini. More than you should.

“I don’t care!”

“Let her be,” James replies as she sits down; she eyes you from the side. “I mean, at the kitchen table?”

Your jaw drops for a moment before James bursts into laughter. You can feel your cheeks warming up even more before you dip your fingers into your drink and quickly splash James. The drops scatter around James’ face, and she giggles even harder.

“You did it all over the house,” you grumble.

Augustine nods. “I can’t sit on that sunroom couch for at least a week,”

“I disinfected it!” James says with a light smile as she shrugs her shoulders.

Honestly, you’d never seen James excited about anyone; she barely showed interest in someone since you’d met her when you were ten, and not everyone made an impression. She mostly hooked up one time every six months; it was often the cycle she had. As she called it, she would get bored and choose the most exciting suitor.

Ignoring them soon after.

“Who are you, and what did you do with our best friend?”

“Right?” you answer, smiling happily, another big sip. “Those googly eyes aren’t yours,”

“Oh my god, stop it,”

But with Javy Machado, it was different.

“Anyway, which guys you were looking at, August?” James says as she sips her wine and looks around the bar. Augustine does the same, trying to locate her next suitor, and you decide to help.

That’s when you see him.

He’s handsome, mainly because he is beaming when his striking amber eyes meet yours. It is strange. The way he moves through the crowd, it looks like he belongs here. It isn’t that he’s exuding confidence. He does seem confident, but it isn’t like that. There’s something in him, a somewhat halo effect. He appears to be glowing. He looks to be like the afternoon sun, with the tan skin and the caramel curls, what seemed to be like an attempt at an 80s pornstach. He looked like cinnamon.

Your heart skips a beat as time slows down, and the warmth of the summer day emboldens you to keep looking as if you haven’t been totally caught.

It doesn’t matter, though, because he seems just as awe-struck as you are. His soft lips parted as he takes you in. Salty hair, tan skin, just a bikini top and a Martini in your hand. Bradley has seen plenty of beautiful women in his lifetime, but there’s something about you, your eyes, and how dazzling they are. A butterfly in a bar of sunshine.

“Go talk to him!” James quickly says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You quickly snap your head towards James, looking away from him as she smiles at you playfully, nudging you to go talk to him. You take the second round James had already ordered as soon as Jimmy sets them on the table.

Your cheeks turn maroon as you sip your Martini again. “No, I can’t!” you answer, shaking your head. Momentarily thinking about Jake and Bob.

“August just went for hers!” she says. You turn around to find the seat next to you empty. Frowning for a moment, you return to James. “You can go too,” she insists.

You bite your lower lip as you take a deep breath. Your mind goes back to this morning, thinking about Jake. He was supposed to call you today, and yet he didn’t. Then you remember Bob. For all you know, he might be calling you right now since your phone is dead, but he still hasn’t. You aren’t insecure, per se. It isn’t like you haven’t been thinking about them. If you had their numbers, you probably would’ve called them.

You hold your breath for a moment. It has been a week since your summer started. Two short live romances in two days and a little more should be enough fun. Fun according to your friends, fun according to anyone your age. This is the time to make stupid decisions, experiment, and learn what you like.

And so, you turn around looking for him.

But he is gone.

Your eyes scan the bar as best as possible, but there’s no sign of the mystery man. “He’s gone,” you huff silently to James, who frowns and immediately starts to look for him as if ready to fight him while you order another drink.

Drinking the alcohol, feeling the liquid courage settle on your empty stomach, you think that’s for the best. You don’t notice when the music stops, too busy in your thoughts and telling James to drop it to notice what’s happening around you.

And then you hear someone clearing their throat.

“I know I’m just a fool who’s willing To sit around and wait for you,” the smooth, velvety voice makes you jolt around, and there he is.

He is close to you now, enough that you know he can smell the salt on your skin and the thick scent of the ocean in your hair. Enough that you can see the little beads of sweat in his mustache, his pink cheeks, and the freckles surrounding his eyes. You can smell him, too, the olive scent surrounding him mixed with the scent of the beer he must’ve been taking. All-American, all beautiful, and now he’s singing to you. Acapella.

“But baby, can’t you see there’s nothing else for me to do?” he continues to sign as people turn in delight, making the connection between him and the girl he’s singing to, you. “I’m hopelessly devoted to you,” his eyes are locked into yours as your cheeks flush, and you try to keep your smile down.

There’s delight in his eyes when he realizes that you can’t stop smiling. He is bewitched.

“But now there’s nowhere to hide Since you pushed my love aside,” he sings, swinging his hips, a dramatic performance, but now he’s accompanied by a chorus of military guys. You gasp as everyone starts to accompany him. Even James now. “I’m out of my head, Hopelessly devoted to you,”

The high tone isn’t his best for his friends; he still manages to keep it, but it causes you to cover your face with your hands as you giggle. He laughs too but continues to sing, through his chuckles, his smile now wide that he heard your laughter.

“Hopelessly devoted to you,” he signs lower, his voice husky and beautiful. “Hopelessly devoted to you,” he sings as if the lyrics are meant only for you. For a moment, the world around you fades away, and you stare at him as the last note lingers in the air.

Your heart flutters as the crowd erupts into cheering and applause. Everyone is now screaming his callsign, Rooster. He smiles at you, an expectation somewhere in his eyes, but you are too enthralled with him, with the gesture that you are simply beaming at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Sailor, sit here,” James finally says as she points to the empty seat beside you.

Rooster glances at James, giving her a thankful smile before he sits next to you. You frown as James quickly leaves you to it, winking at you and silently wishing you good luck. Rooster eyes trail down your body, taking in your outfit in a bar crowded with clothed people. He enjoys it, the carelessness in you.

“You don’t look like a singer at all, you know that?” you tease him, deciding you’ll be the first one to talk as if it would do much to diminish your anxiety.

Rooster’s grin widens. What little he can recall from his dad was that he was never the greatest singer, not that it ever stopped him, but his mom had a prettier voice. Maybe it was the fact that he sang too much as a child until he became talented. He just knows that his father loved to sing; he loved music. Hell, this was how his father and his uncle managed to convince his mom to go on a date with Goose.

“I like to keep a few tricks down my sleeve, you know?” he responds with the same teasing tone as he orders another beer from Jimmy, getting closer to you.

“I think that’s the best trick to pick up girls I’ve ever seen,” you answer as you turn towards him. “Do you use it a lot here? What’s your repertoire?”

Rooster bites his lower lip as he shakes his head and sips on the beer, denying your assumptions. You roll your eyes.

“Oh, come on, Rooster,” you say with a playful smile, pushing him softly on his chest, your fingertips grazing against his strong muscles.

You can’t help but notice how his eyes light up when you say his name, making your heart swell. You wonder for a moment if you are truly good at flirting as you gaze at him, blushing as the moments pass.

“Bradley Bradshaw to you,” he responds, his voice soft and almost teasing. “You?”

After you tell him your name, his smile grows wider. Your inner cheek gets caught between your teeth as you take in his handsome features - those captivating eyes, the long lashes, and even that distinct pornstache that somehow adds to his charm.

“So, Bradshaw, how many times have you used it?” you inquire, genuinely curious about the adventures of the daring pilot.

“Two,” Rooster answers, but a hint of disappointment crosses your face, hidden behind your furrowed brow. It should be more, you think to yourself. With looks like his and that voice that could melt hearts, you’re sure he’s had many admirers.

“How did it go the first time?” you ask, leaning in.

“Crashed and burned,” he admits, a touch of vulnerability in his voice.

“And the second?” you ask, the corners of your lips curling up with anticipation.

“Well, do you want to get out of here and find out with me?” he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, playfully gasping at his assumption. “What makes you think that I want to sleep with you?”

He counters with a playful pout, “Oh, so you’ll leave me brokenhearted?”

You can’t help but chuckle for a moment. The playful banter between you two feels natural, like you’ve known each other for far longer than just this encounter as if you’d known each other your whole life. It makes you feel a bit more comfortable. It’s strange. Feeling the surge of courage in your chest makes everything feel lighter for a moment. He seems lighter, but there’s something else in his eyes. A sense of longing.

Giving him a mockingly dramatic expression, you quickly stand up from the chair and walk to the door.

Rooster’s eyes widen. “Wait, wait,” he says, his voice softening. He follows you while you smile as you feel him closely behind you, his fingertips touching yours, before you push the door to the outside.

The sea breeze hits your face perfectly. The moon is shining bright in the sky, enough to illuminate the beach just in the right way. A wide smile on your face as you close your eyes and relish the day. You don’t notice him looking; you don’t notice how he admires you, how his eyes are glowing as he takes you in. At night, with just a swimsuit, your face clean, your cheeks red, you are beautiful.

“Dance with me,” he suddenly whispers.

You snap your head towards him, opening your eyes softly as you take him in. Your heart flutters at his request, and you can’t resist his earnest plea. “You will truly break my heart,” you jest, as you take his hand and follow him to the sand.

Wordlessly, you take his hand, and he begins to sway the two of you side to side. Your body quickly molds to his, perfectly, moving in sync with the rhythm of the music from inside the bar. His strong arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. Olive and beer fill your senses, intoxicating and comforting all at once.

You gaze into each other’s eyes, and the world around you disappears. It’s as if there’s just the two of you on the beach, lost in the feeling, the electricity, and the warmth.

“You are so one of them,” you whisper as your hands climb up his chest and wrap themselves around his neck. His skin is hot; it burns. You don’t know why you are so sensitive; you want to blame the alcohol, but you think that’s just an omen for a moment.

Rooster frowns, unable to understand what you mean. “The one guy that genuinely falls in love, every evening, with a different type of girl only to fall out of it again the next morning,” you explain.

“That’s not true at all,” he protests as his hand gently trails up your back, sending a trail of electricity in its wake. The touch is both tender but a little more intimate, enough to know that he wants more but also soft enough that you lean into him. You don’t care that he’s too warm, that the heat might turn suffocating.

“And then, which is worse. As you are breaking her heart, you are telling all of these lies about how she’s too good for you, and you can’t possibly be a good option for her, and you love her too much to stay with her,” you continued.

Rooster chuckles softly as he leans down further.

“You’re too good for me,” he says, and you can’t help but smile.

His eyes linger on your face for a second, studying it; he’s tasting the moment, and so are you.

And then, he leans in.

The way he cups your cheeks is enough for you to gasp softly before his lips connect to yours. His mouth molds perfectly with yours, his nose bumping yours as your eyes close and you let yourself go. Bradley feels his heart thundering in his chest; you taste just like honey and lemon. His fingers dig into the delicate skin of your hips. It’s slow and long; he’s taking his time, but you can feel it, his impatience and yours; you know it by now as he ran his hands along the low of your back and you into his hair.

The kiss is sweet and pleasurable. It isn’t passionate or soft. It’s something else, too intimate, too unknown.

It wasn’t like it was with Jake or Bob. It’s different.

God. Jake and Bob, for all you know, they might be there.

As the thought crosses your mind, Rooster wraps his arms around your torso, and he’s pulling you closer to him, tight. As if he doesn’t want to let you go, he deepens the kiss.

But then something’s off. Your stomach churns, and a feeling of nausea washes over you, your breath shallow, and suddenly you are suffocating. You shake your head, barely having time to push him away enough by his chest for him to notice. He lets you go fast, just in time before the bile rises from your throat.

It might be the dehydration, the mix of alcohol, the fact of not eating, or just your consciousness.

But as you finish throwing up your guts, everything seems a bit blurry. A pressure on your chest that you hadn’t felt ever before overwhelms you; it feels like you can’t breathe as you wipe your mouth.

“Honey?”

Your vision goes blurry, and your throat feels so tight that no words come out of your mouth. All you can feel is the panic rising inside your chest; everything goes black.

SEVEN YEARS LATER

As James and Augustine had promised, they did take care of you. It’d been over two weeks since you’d run into Jake, Rooster, and Bob. They’d taken the toll of doing groceries and doing simple errands around the town so you would avoid places that they might be. Hardware stores, cinemas, bars, and Grocery stores were strictly forbidden until further notice, at least for you. Inés could go out with Augustine and James. You knew that you simply couldn’t.

Agustine told you that she had a contact in the Navy who might be able to tell you how long they’d be here. You waited patiently as you tried to do your best to work and take care of Inés, trying to cheer her up when you’d tell her that you couldn’t go to the movies together or the grocery store. Or the park on the main street. It was getting harder and harder each day, especially since Inés, three days after you’d sworn off any of these places, had realized and didn’t want to go anywhere without you.

She quickly decided to hibernate with you, and you honestly didn’t know if it could last long.

Even more with John’s presence in the house, more often than not. He’d apologized a week prior, and you’d let it go because you didn’t have the energy to fight with him. Not now, at least. He’d stayed over that same weekend; he’d tried to talk to her, but Inés outright refused. She even insisted that she had to sleep with you every night of the weekend until finally John left. Most importantly, John wouldn’t even be allowed to use her bed; he had to sleep on the couch.

As you looked down at your beautiful daughter, at her button nose, at those oh-so-familiar caramel eyes with flecks of green, her oh-so-familiar twisted soft pink lips, all wrapped together in that small frown as she slightly glared at you with her oh-so-familiar brunette golden hair in disarray, waiting for an answer, you knew that John would be complaining about his backache for at least a week.

“I just don’t get why she doesn’t like me,” he says as he slurps slightly from his cereal bowl. You cringe at the sound but try not to mind as you close the door of your mother’s house.

It was her night with your mom; part of you was grateful that she was in another place that wasn’t the house or her summer camp.

“She just doesn’t know you that well. That’s all,” you pinch your nose as you curse mentally the heels that you’d to wear due to a meeting with a client.

“That’s why I told you, both of you should come to LA with me; we can go to that Disney Park,” he insists on the other end.

You wonder for a slight second, only a second, if he didn’t have anything else to do at work because you did, and he still decides to bring up this. You regret it immediately as you stop in front of your car, phone heavy on your hand. Men you’d dated before had run away from you the moment they found out about Inés; here was a man who wanted to spend time with her.

“Yeah, I know,” you answer softly as you stare at the sky. The cues of orange were already reflecting on the clouds in the sky; the afternoon sun was warming up your skin, toasting it, making your soul sizzle slightly.

For a second, you close your eyes, and you let yourself go back to that summer. To those afternoons where the sun stretched as much as it could, showering you with its light. Salt air kissing your lips. Clouds lazily drift by. Rhythmic, soothing melody of the waves rushing towards you. You can remember their touch as they’d kissed your neck, your skin, their lips rolling down your body.

“Babe?”

You gasped softly as you opened your eyes. “I’m here,” you answer, clearing your throat as you look around, hoping no one else has seen you.

There were many moments throughout the years when you thought that you’d seen one of them. Jake more often than Bradley or Bob. Your heart always drops to your stomach, and your vision turns technicolor. Colors become so bright that you almost become sick. They, he, they always looked at you just in the way you liked those years ago. They didn’t age when you thought you saw them.

That’s how you realize that it is him, passing by in a car you didn’t recognize. As your eyes lock with him, you know deep down that he is looking for you.

“I have to go,” your voice could be barely heard; it’s not more than a whisper as your eyes are glued to the jeep that continues to drive. John might’ve heard you, you don’t know, but you also don’t care.

Holding your breath, you hope that he will drive away, but he doesn’t. It parks a few feet away from you. Your heartbeat picks up as you see the door opening. You’d seen him a few times with the green jumpsuit. He looks a lot older now, a lot grown up. Grown-up, something about it makes you want to recoil. It doesn’t fit with the memories you have of him.

He was supposed to stay twenty-five; you were supposed to stay twenty-three. The more times you see him now, the more it eats away those memories.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, a sudden cool evening breeze brushing against your skin as you stand in the street, washed in golden light. The moon was now peering over the edge of the horizon, casting a faint shadow to glow over the sky.

“I thought I’d pass by,” Jake replies, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia as he gazes at you. Those eyes staring back at you, just like they did seven years prior.

There’s a brief moment when you can feel like you’re back there with him again. Seven years ago, you had your father; seven years ago, you were still innocent; you hadn’t gone through anything, managed to live your life prior to them unscathed, without so much as a crack. Now, as you stand there, you can feel it.

All the cuts, all the breaks, all the different ways you were twisted and pulled back the way you’d to paste yourself back together for Inés.

Your face was stern, furrowing your eyebrows slightly. “You know what you sound like, right?” you ask.

Jake’s lips tug slightly on the edges. He managed to see those parts of you seven years prior, hidden through a meekness you’d tried to push down those sharp edges of you. He likes that you let the sharpness come through now.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he admits, his voice ting with regret. “I hoped,” he says slowly; you roll your eyes at him. “I think I was the only one that came to your parent’s house, right?”

As soon as the words drop from his lips, you feel everything stop. Staring at him, your mind rumbles to look for answers to what he means. He has your rattle; he notices it. He knows your body like the back of his hand, every edge, curve, inch. He had it memorized seven years ago. There’s a part of him that’s relieved that he can still read you; he was afraid that he couldn’t anymore, even with this.

“What are you -”

“I heard your name,” he interrupts softly, “Rooster and Bob were talking about you and how they know you.”

The silence is heavy as you stare at each other. There was a time when this was your worst nightmare, that either Bradley or, Bob or Jake found out about each other. You’d tried to handle it. None of them had asked you for anything else but what you had, and you hadn’t planned to ask for more.

Until then, they did, until you did.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you; you do know that, right?” you finally answer after weighing your options.

Jake nods. He half-expected that answer after the domino of events that trail behind your relationship.

His eyes examine you. Cheeks flushed, hair loose, the professional sleeveless black dress hugs your body perfectly. He’d imagined you like this: professional, beautiful. A little bit older, a little bit wiser. Sometimes he’d imagined what his life would’ve been like if he hadn’t fucked up as he did.

But now, as he heard Bradley and Bob bickering about that summer. He realized that maybe he wasn’t the only one to blame.

“So, it wasn’t only me that summer, and Bradley for that matter,” he says, his eyes flickering now to yours.

The words come out of your mouth faster than you wished. “It was,” you sound definitive because you knew for a second it was before everything came tumbling down. But then again, you know it isn’t true, and you’d made the choices you’d made. You’d made your bed with all three of them. “I mean, I was also, you were.”

“Forgot that you avoid talking about feelings,” he murmurs, his eyes still fixed on you, the hint of a smile on his lips as he gives a step closer to you.

Your eyebrows pinch. Memories of that fateful summer flooding back. You recall how confident he was, the charm that always seemed to follow him, and why you got stuck in his web. Anger floods back too, simmering in your chest, defensiveness, everything you don’t want to feel again and less for him.

“I’ve changed; it has been seven years, and you only knew me for eight weeks.”

It’s filled with poison, you know it, and he does it too.

“And I haven’t been able to forget you, honey,” Jake confesses, his voice filled with a melancholic longing as he gives another step. “Please, just hear me out,”

You smell the sandalwood, the lemon. You look up at him through your lashes, holding your ground, not moving an inch as you stare at him. He shouldn’t make your heart beat this way, not when it has been so long. And yet he does; he makes your body react. Perhaps it is the fact that he is looking at you like that; perhaps it is the way the sun is hitting you right now, but anger drains slowly as you feel him closer.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say softly, eyebrows still pinched.

Part of you wishes you didn’t sound so soft when he’s around you, but the thought of him has been marinating for so long in your mind since you first saw him here again. His face is calm, but you can still sense the regret.

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” Jake repeats, swallowing hard as his hand carefully comes up to your face; he does it carefully, as if not to scare you.

A sound slips out of his lips as you lean into his touch. It doesn’t even cross your mind to move; you’re not too thrown off by his tenderness; you’d been craving it.

“It doesn’t matter now,” you argue; closing your eyes, you let his skin touch yours. It burns you, from the inside out, the fact that you still crave his touch like this.

“Honey,” he breathes out. “Of course it does. What are the odds that you are here and I am here?”

He startles you. You open your eyes just as fast as you’d leaned into him. Staring at him, he doesn’t know what you’re hiding. He does not know what kept you here. You want to yell at him, the odds, you scoff mentally. The odds were that you got knocked up by one of them, the odds were that you couldn’t leave, and the odds were that you raised your daughter on your own. Even worse, the present odds. The odds are that if he, or any of them, find out what you’ve done, they might take Inés away from you.

“Jake, stop,” you bite, taking a step back from him. You don’t dare to look at him for a moment.

“Honey,”

“You lied to me,” you pull away completely. “You lied to me, broke my heart,”

Jake frowns. He hates this. He hates that you run away, time and time again; you’ve always run away from him. Now that he knows, he just doesn’t let you go that easily. No, he can’t.

“You lied, too. I mean, were you sleeping with-”

“Go,” you snap at him. Jake watches as you glare at him, your eyebrows pinched. He remembers the way your lips turn when you’re mad; he knows you. You aren’t mad right now. He stares at you, your long lashes, your golden skin. Eyes that he’d been seeing in his dreams since he left. Pink, plush lips. His eyes stay there for longer than before, and when he looks back at you again, you’re already staring.

You know what he is about to do.

“I said, just go-”

One, two, three steps, and he has reached you. His hand finds your hip and grabs at it roughly, cupping your jaw; his lips find yours.

author's note: Thank you so much for your patience!!!!! I have so many questions about this fic because I've rewrote so many things. Need your opinions.

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