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devilat-thedoor · 8 months

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What Is and What Should Never Be Ch. 1

A/N: The parts in this fic are going to be on the shorter side compared to my other one, but that allows me to get them out quicker. This first chapter is really just laying the foundation for the story. I hope you enjoy, babes! and as always, feedback is appreciated🤍 P.S. This is all fictional, straight from my imagination. Please don't take it too seriously💖

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut(none yet, but for future reference), Mentions of alcoholism/addiction, Mentions of death. Reader Discretion Advised.

So if you wake up with the sunrise and all your dreams are still as new // And happiness is what you need so bad, well girl, the answer lies with you

“Bell, are we really doing this?” Your grin was beaming as you twisted the key in the ignition, hearing the engine rumble. You rolled the windows down, letting the late March wind breeze through the car.

Your best friend, Bellamy, turned to you from her spot in the passenger seat, “I mean, unless you want to carry all of our stuff back into that shithole…” She jutted her thumb out the window, towards the shabby apartment building that, up until 15 minutes ago, you had called home. “Then we are absolutely doing this!” You laughed, pulling away from the curb as she hung half of her body out the car to shout a goodbye to your hometown. “We’re fucking out of here! See you later, Phil!” Bellamy had her middle fingers in the air as the wind swept through her jet black hair.

Reaching over, you grabbed her shirt to yank her back in the window, “Bellamy, the groundhog can’t hear you!” Your hand went back to the steering wheel as she settled back into her seat and kicked her feet up on the dashboard. “Don’t get too comfortable, you’re not gonna fall asleep on me 20 minutes into the drive.”

She rolled her eyes and gave you a lazy smile, “Fall asleep on you, sweet pea? Never.” She grabbed the aux cord, plugging it into her phone. “Why did we decide to drive again? We could’ve left everything to the moving company and just booked a flight… This is gonna take for-ev-er.” She flicked her sunglasses down over her eyes with a whine.

“Bell, how often are we gonna get to road trip across the country? Think of all the places we’ll get to see!” You tried to sound as positive as you could but, truth be told, you weren’t very excited about the drive either. The speakers came to life when she finally decided on a playlist, opening with House of the Rising Sun by The Animals. “Once we’re on I-80, the drive will go so fast, babe.”

She dropped her feet back to the floor, turning to face you again, “Whatever you say, Y/N.” Digging into the grocery bag full of snacks below her, she grabbed a pack of gummy bears and ripped them open, “God, I just can’t wait to be out of here and in the sun… And our new apartment?” Bellamy curled her legs up into her seat, turning to face you, “Are you okay with me taking the Master bedroom? I really want the en suite bathroom.”

You glanced over to see her pouting her lip at you, “You can have whatever room you want.” Looking back to the road, you turned the music down a bit, “If you told me I had to sleep in a tent on the balcony, I would do it.” It sounded like a joke, but you were partially serious.

“You know you’d be sharing my bed if there was no other place for you, Y/N.” She gave you a pointed look and slouched back into her seat. “We would just need a kind of ‘sock on the door’ signal, yanno?”

Craning your neck to look behind you, you slowly merged onto the interstate, “When has a signal ever worked before, Bellamy?” It was early enough in the morning that traffic was mostly clear, allowing you to set the cruise control to an even 70mph. “Remember Seth? The guy I met at sophomore year IUPatty’s? I left the shamrock beads on the doorknob and that didn’t stop you from barging into the dorm!”

She held her hands up, “In my defense, there were beads scattered through the hallway. How was I supposed to know you put them there intentionally?” Her shoulders raised in a shrug as she remembered back, “And I saved you! Your fake moans weren’t even believable, you weren’t getting off!”

You broke out into a cackle, “Oh my god, Bell! Fuck, you’re actually right.” She stuck her tongue out at you, “He was so hot, but had no rhythm at all… it was just anticlimactic. No pun intended.” You were both in a fit of laughter when your friend popped up in her seat.

“Babe, turn it up!” Bellamy yelled over the wind whipping through the windows as Rocky Mountain Way by Joe Walsh began playing. “It’s our song!”

You reached for the volume dial with a grin, cranking it up as you both started singing along. “…Out to pasture, think it’s safe to say, time to open fiiiire…” You held your closed fist to your mouth, using it as a makeshift microphone, “And we don’t need the ladies crying cause the story’s sad…”

Holding your invisible microphone out to your friend, she sang the next few lines into it “‘Cause the rocky mountain way is better than the way we had…” The two of you went back and forth, singing loudly through your giggling. You listened as Bellamy vocalized the entire solo at the end of the song, finishing with a deep inhale to catch her breath.

The next song came on as you both settled down and you just drove in a comfortable silence for a while. You stopped for food and gas while passing through Toledo and continued on, only stopping again once you were right outside of Chicago. “I’m sick of driving, Bellamy. It’s your turn.” You whined at her as you pulled the car into a gas station.

“I’ve got maybe five or six hours in me.” She pushed her door open, grabbing her wallet from her bag to head into the gas station, “I do not want to be in the car anymore, so let’s plan on stopping in Des Moines… If traffic stays clear, we should make it by at least eleven. Midnight at the latest.” You followed her into the convenience store, listening to her lay out the plans. “When we get back in the car, look for a motel or something cheap we can stay in for tonight and then we’ll get back on the road early tomorrow.”

You both headed to the restroom to relieve yourselves before grabbing a few energy drinks and bottles of water and paying for your gas. “Sounds good, babe.” After filling the tank, you climbed into the passenger seat while your friend got behind the wheel and began browsing for a place to rest.

“Hey, Bell…” You’d been back on the road for another two hours, going back between music and podcasts, when you turned to her.

She glanced at you with a soft smile, “Yes, sweet pea?”

You were toying with your fingers in your lap, “I haven’t actually said it yet, but thank you.” She gave you a questioning look, prompting you to elaborate, “For bringing me along with you… to San Francisco. I will never be able to make this up to you.” You wanted to make sure she knew how genuinely grateful you were. All you’ve dreamed of, since you were 15, was getting out of your hometown and escaping the living hell that was your life. You thought that the day you turned 18, you’d pack up and leave to head for the west coast, get as far away as you could to avoid the chance of ending up like your mother. But after graduation and without money, your only option to get out of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania was going to college. Bellamy made you apply to IUP with her and when you both got in, it seemed like things wouldn’t be so bad anymore. Even though the university was only about 40 minutes from your hometown, it was far enough away that you didn’t have to deal with the stress of living with your parents anymore. Your dad was always amazing. He taught you everything you knew, from how to cook to how to change your own brakes and oil. All he ever wanted was to make sure you were capable of taking care of yourself when the time came for you to be on your own and that time came a lot sooner than either of you could have anticipated.

It was your junior year in college and you were so close to getting your Bachelor’s in Anthropology. Your classes kept you busy enough that you didn’t have time for partying or getting into trouble. All of your focus went into your school work in the hopes that once you finished, you would find a great job in doing something you loved and make enough money to go wherever you wanted. But the perfect bubble you’d put yourself in popped that November when you went home for Thanksgiving break.

Your mother’s alcohol addiction wasn’t anything new to you. You would come home from middle school to find her passed out on the sofa, empty bottle littering the coffee table. Some nights she would come into your room to crawl in bed with you, crying that she wanted to be better and that she was going to try to stop drinking. You would let her hold you and cry until your dad would come in and gently walk her back to their bedroom. The smell of her vodka soaked breath is something that would surely stick with you for the rest of your life. Dad would try his hardest to hide how bad her problem really was, but you knew. It started to get worse when you got into high school. She would get drunk and belligerent, screaming and breaking things. You’d gotten accustomed to staying at Bellamy’s. Her father and yours were best friends and that’s how you and Bell ended up as close as you were. On the nights your mother was particularly bad, Bell’s dad, Mr. Cole, would get a call from your dad and within minutes, you would be climbing into the backseat of his car with your best friend to stay with her family for a couple of nights. You begged your dad to leave her, to just let her drink herself rotten and move you and him some place far away where she couldn’t affect you anymore, but he refused. Always telling you that she needed the both of you to get her through it, that she didn’t have the strength to stop drinking on her own. Part of you knew that he didn’t even believe that himself, but you looked up to him more than anybody and trusted that he knew what was best. Still, you couldn’t stand to live in the same house as her, so when you got accepted to the same college as Bellamy, it was like life was finally giving you a break.

Then that Thanksgiving day came crashing down and everything else went with it. You and Bellamy made the short drive home the day before and you dropped her off at her house before heading to yours. Your dad was at the door, waiting to greet you as you pulled in and he rushed out to wrap you in a bear hug and help you with your belongings. You were dreading the kind of state you would find your mom in, but to your surprise, she seemed sober and completely normal. She pulled you into an embrace and you could still smell the faint hint of liquor on her, but her behavior had you fooled into thinking it was just your imagination. You were having a good time, helping her prep the apple pie so it would be ready to bake for the holiday while listening to music. She asked you how your classes were going and she seemed genuinely interested as you explained your course load to her. It was a welcome change to how conversations normally went with her.

As the day dwindled to early evening, you started to see a change in her. She was getting sloppy and she stumbled through the house and you noticed her eyes starting to droop, but it wasn’t until she started throwing a fit about not having enough wine for the guests that you’d be having over for Thanksgiving that you realized she must have been sneaking drinks throughout the night. You watched as your dad tried to reason with her and calm her down, but she just kept yelling, throwing things around the kitchen until he finally gave in and offered to drive her to the store so they could pick up a few more bottles. You pleaded with him to stay, trying to convince him that he was only enabling her addiction by catering to her temper tantrums, but he brushed you off, wrapping you in hi arms and placing a firm kiss to the top of your head before grabbing his jacket and ushering your mother out the door. You didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time you would ever hug your father. After they started the drive into town, in a drunken fit of anger, your mom would lash out and begin hitting your dad, causing him to run off of the road and into the woods. He was pronounced DOA by the first responders and she would walk away from it without a scratch. Nobody knew that it was her fault, but after his funeral, when she was already half a bottle deep, she confessed it to you. You left her alone that night and never looked back and she ended up moving south to live with family. You couldn’t forgive her and if you never saw her another day in your life, it would still be too soon.

The depression you fell into forced you to drop out of college. You moved back to your hometown and got a job at the local diner, Punxsy Phil’s, to pay rent. Bellamy moved back with you and spent her last year and half commuting to school before graduating with her Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Now, two years later at 26, Bell was offered a job at a tech company. They were based out of Silicon Valley but they wanted her to head a team in their San Francisco office. When they offered to pay for her housing for a year until she got her footing, she sweet talked them into a two bedroom apartment and asked you to go with her. Of course you jumped at the opportunity and now here you were, driving across the country to start your new life and it was all thanks to your best and oldest friend.

“Y/N, I wouldn’t have even thought about taking this job if there wasn’t a chance that you could come with me.” She reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly, “I know how hard the past few years have been, but we’re starting a new chapter and it’s us, babe. It’s always been you and me.” A grin formed on her face as she put her hand back on the steering wheel, “We’re gonna fucking rule San Fransisco like Christina and Courtney in The Sweetest Thing.” She paused before adding, “But promise me you won’t fall in love with a guy you just met overnight!”

You leaned over the center console, hugging her tightly and planting a giant peck on her cheek, “I fucking love you, Bell.” You were both laughing as she pushed you away.

“I love you more, sweet pea.”

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It was early Sunday morning when you finally pulled into the parking lot or your new apartment building in the Mission Bay neighborhood. It stood maybe six stories high and each apartment had its own balcony. You and Bellamy were on the third floor, number 308, and she held the keys in her fist as you both stepped out of the car. The excitement couldn’t be contained as you made it up the elevator and she unlocked the door, pushing through it to see your new home in person for the first time. Stepping into the apartment, you both rushed around, exploring the living space. It was quaint and small, but it was perfect for the two of you. You each had your own bathroom and the bedrooms were a decent size. The sliding door that led out to the balcony caught your attention at the same time as her and you were running to slide it open and see the view of the city. “Bell, is this even real?” You gazed out in awe, seeing all the buildings and businesses that surrounded. You couldn’t wait to see what it looked like at nighttime with the city lights. Just as your friend went to answer you, there was a knock on the apartment door that was left wide open and you turned to see the movers standing there. You both looked at one another with large smiles, “Let’s turn this place into home, B.”

“I think it’ll look better against that wall.” Bellamy placed her hand on the man’s arm, pointing to the opposite side of the living room. “Could you just move it one more time?” You bit your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh as she batted her lashes at him. The movers made it to your new home right after you had and your best friend was quick to put them to work. You stood back, allowing her to give directions with flirty giggles, directing the men where to put everything.

Finding it best to stay out of her way, you decided to occupy yourself with something else, “Hey, hun!” You called across the room to Bellamy, “I’m gonna start unpacking the kitchen.” She gave you a thumbs up without breaking concentration on the movers. Walking into the tiny kitchen, you pulled open the first box you saw to reveal all of your plates and bowls, wrapped in old newspapers. You decided on a cabinet and began stacking the dishes, one by one, discarding the papers into the empty box as you went. Next was the cups and mugs then tupperware and pots and pans. After a little over an hour, you had the kitchen completely unpacked with everything in its rightful place.

As you stood in the middle of the space breaking down all of the boxes, your friend came through the doorway, “Everything is officially moved in.” You watched as she padded to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water. She shook a bottle in the air, silently asking if you wanted one, and tossed it after you gave a nod, “And, courtesy of those three very sweet men, the living room is already assembled.” Bellamy gave a proud smile as she cracked open her bottle. “We just have to fill the bookshelf and hang some art on the walls or something.” She shrugged, taking a large gulp of water.

You took a few chugs of your own and checked the time on your phone, pausing the music that was playing. “It’s only 1 o’clock, we’re making pretty good time. You wanna go find lunch somewhere?” Bellamy’s phone began ringing as she nodded her head and you watched her walk back into the living to retrieve it. After a minute you left the kitchen as well, going into your bedroom to find a change of clothes in the mountain of boxes. The apartment already came with beds and bedroom furniture and you dug through one box, pulling out the new sheets and comforter that you’d purchased and tossed them on the mattress.

“Soooo…” Bellamy startled you as she popped her head in the door frame, “Don’t hate me…” She gave an apologetic look.

You dropped the clothes you were holding to the bed and let out a sigh, “We’re not getting lunch, are we?”

She came into the room, cupping your face with a pout, “I’m sorry, Y/N! Please don’t be mad.” You pulled out of her hold, rolling your eyes, “That was my new boss that just called and he wants me to go down to headquarters to meet everyone.”

You weren’t mad, you knew how important this job was to her, “It’s fine, Bell. Take my keys, they’re on the kitchen counter.” You pointed out the door.

A high pitched squeal left her mouth and she wrapped you in an incredibly tight hug, “I’ll make this up to you, I swear!” She went to her own bedroom to change clothes and you decided you would still go out and get food, but you would also take the time to look at who may be hiring in the area. You pulled on a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a black baby tee that read ‘farm fresh peaches’ with two of the bright fruits printed over the chest. Once satisfied with your outfit, you dug through your laptop case to pull out a copy of your resumé and a separate sheet of paper with a solid list of references, and tucked them into your bag just as Bellamy came back to your doorway, “I love you and I’ll be back soon!”

“Leave me your keys, Bell!” You called as she disappeared back out into the apartment, “I’m gonna go explore the neighborhood a little bit and you’ll have my keys, so leave yours for me.” She nodded, digging her key ring from her purse and dropping them on the counter.

Ten minutes later, you were locking up and riding the elevator to the ground floor. You stepped out on the street, looking left and right to decide which direction you wanted to go in. Opting for the left, you started on your journey, unsure of where you might end up, with a goal of finding lunch in mind. You’d lost count of how many blocks you walked when you landed on Market Street. The entire length of it was lined with stores and bars and restaurants, it was unlike anything you’d see back home. Sure, Pittsburgh was a great city to visit, but it didn’t compare to this in your eyes. You scoped out a few different food spots as you walked along the sidewalk, Some with potential to eat at, others with potential for work, but you continued on, lost in the bustle of everything going on around you until something caught your eye. A bright, neon open sign shined bright in a storefront window and illuminated the ‘Now Hiring’ sign to its right. It was a piece of paper that looked like someone just scribbled the note on with thick, black sharpie, and taped it to the window as a joke. Your gaze traveled up to the hanging sign above the door, Highway Tunes Records, before dropping back to the windows and seeing the art and posters adorning the walls inside. Your eyes fell upon a psychedelic poster, made up of colorful and abstract swirls that came together to unmistakably make Jimi Hendrix. An audible gasp escaped and you found yourself pulling the door open and shuffling inside the store and straight over to the poster. You were entranced as you stared up at it, unable to tear your eyes away until a voice stole your attention.

“You a Hendrix fan?” Turning to find whoever the voice came from, you were met with a gleaming set of teeth, stretched into a mesmerizing grin, with the tiniest gap between the front two.

You returned his smile, murmuring a response once you realized you’d been staring at him, “Uh… Yeah. He was my dad’s favorite musician.” You glanced back up at the framed poster as he replied.

He was standing incredibly close, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, “Well, he is great… So!” His exclamation made you jump and he laughed, “Sorry, it’s been a slow day and you’re probably our fifth customer since opening at noon.” You looked down at your phone to check the time, 2:49pm, and gave him a sympathetic smile. You knew how boring a slow day at work could be. “Anyways… What brings you into HIghway Tunes? Looking for a specific album?”

“Actually, that is what brought me in here.” You pointed up to the Jimi poster, “It felt like it was calling me in.” You shook your head, aware of how weird that sounded, but before you could try to reword it, the man was already talking.

“Oh. Well, unfortunately, I can’t sell you that specific piece.” He let out a huff, turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. Your brow furrowed as you watched him go and he turned around, gesturing for you to follow him, “That one is part of Jake’s personal collection.” He started after you fell into step behind him, “He’d kill me if I sold it and then he’d hunt you down and kill you too… But these…” He stopped in front of a giant bin, filled with rolled up posters, and flipped open the binder above it, “These are all on the market.”

You watched as he thumbed the pages, looking over the inventory of music posters. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Full lips, bordered by a tasteful bit of facial hair. A wild mess of curls that covered his forehead and ears, only leaving the small, silver hoops piercing his lobes to stick out. He had a constant smile on his face and you almost didn’t want to open your mouth out of fear that it would go away, “I’m not… really looking to buy anything.” You watched the grin falter, but he quickly recovered it, “I’m sorry. I just don’t have the spare money right now to spend on things that aren’t necessities.” You scrunched your nose with a shrug.

He turned to face you, looking you up and down as if he was sizing you up, “You’re not from around here.” Suddenly feeling self conscious, you crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him, “Hey, no. I didn’t mean any offense… Just that the only people who come in here are either regulars or tourists and you’re certainly not a regular.”

“How do you know I’m not a regular?” You gave him a pointed look as you pursed your lips. “Maybe you just always miss me when I come in?”

“Naah. Nobody comes in here without me or Jakey seeing them and I would not forget you.” He slapped his palm over his face whilst shaking his head, “Sorry, that… That sounded creepy. I just meant… never mind.” A bright blush started to overtake his cheeks.

He was so charming and handsome, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from your mouth and if Bellamy were there, she’d accuse you of flirting. “Okay, I did just move here, but tell you what… As soon as I get a job, I promise to become a regular.” You flashed him a sweet smile before turning around and heading for the door, “Don’t forget my face.”

“Woah, wait!” He called after you and you stopped to face him again, a questioning lift to your brows, as he jogged the short distance across the store, “You need a job? We’re hiring.” He sounded desperate as he continued, “The pay is good, I swear. You’ll get great hours and everyone here is chill!”

You looked around at the shop, really taking in the eccentric environment. His smile alone was enticing you to say yes and you couldn’t fight against it, “So… is this an official interview?” You joked and saw his shoulders visibly relax.

He looked around the store as though he was searching for something, “Actually, let me find Jake. We might be able to interview you right now.” He went in the opposite direction from you, giving you no time to decline before heading for the checkout counter, but he stopped, “I’m Josh, by the way!” He yelled from where he stood

You called out to him, still planted by the front door, “I’m Y/N!” His smile seemed to grow brighter as he repeated your name back to you.

Just as he was about to push through the door behind the counter, it flung open to reveal another man behind it, “What’s with all the fucking yelling?” From where you stood, it looked like he was gritting his teeth at Josh. His hair was long, landing past his shoulders, and he wore a pair of dark sunglasses. He peered over Josh’s shoulder to get a look at you and you saw his lips moving before the curly headed boy turned and waved you towards them.

You swallowed your nerves and began shuffling towards them. Your eyes drifted to the ceiling to see it plastered with vinyls, all painted over with intricate and colorful artwork. As you stepped up to the counter, your eyes fell on the men, “This place is a lot like Trax.” They both gave you strange looks, prompting you to clarify, “The record store from Pretty In Pink? With Molly Ringwald?” The confusion didn’t leave their faces as you stared at them, “Seriously? That’s like, my favorite movie. It’s an iconic John Hughes masterpiece! The scene when Duckie sings Otis Redding?” You continued to gush despite how clueless they clearly were.

Josh’s face lit up into a grin as he listened to you, but the other guy remained stoic, almost like he was bored, “Well it’s a good thing you don’t need to know movies to work in a music store.” You couldn’t help the look of shock on your face at his pompous tone.

But you were never one to let a man make you feel small, “No, you’re right, but… if I’m not mistaken, there’s an entire shelf over there,” You pointed to your left with a cocky smile, “that is loaded with movie soundtracks… And if you ask me, music and film go hand and hand.” Looking back at him, you gave an innocent shrug, “But you’re the boss, so who am I to argue?” He was taken aback by your quip but you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on his lips as he eyed you. You directed your attention back to Josh, “Maybe I’m not a good fit… but I hope you find someone who will be.” You were about to turn and leave, but he stopped you.

“No, don’t leave!” He slapped the other man’s arm, “Jake, don’t be a jackass. We need the help and I think she’ll be great.” He was practically pleading.

“Ahh, you’re Jake…” You finally connected the dots, “The same Jake that would hunt me down and kill me if I made off with that Hendrix poster over there?” You nodded towards the frame that hung on the wall. “So maybe you don’t know classic movies, but you clearly have good taste in music.” It was an attempt at flattery and it seemed to work because he finally cracked a genuine smile.

His eyes flashed to the poster and came back to you, “What’s your favorite Jimi album? Song?” He was trying to quiz you as if he didn’t believe you were really a fan of the musician. “Answer carefully, peach.”

Your gaze dropped to your shirt before you narrowed your eyes at him, “Axis: Bold As Love by the Experience and Red House… Specifically the Woodstock live recording.” You raised your eyebrow, waiting for a snide remark, “And I have a name…” You almost forgot that Josh was standing beside him until he cleared his throat.

He clapped his hands together with a laugh, “See, Jakey. You can’t tell me she wouldn’t fit in perfectly.”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter, “Why is Red House your favorite song?” The question made you smile.

“It’s all very bluesy. The guitar riff and solo, his lyrics… The first time my dad played that song, I was completely enthralled.” You were speaking genuinely and judging by the way he was nodding, he knew it.

He turned to Josh, silently communicating to him with a look. You watched them, trying to decipher what was being discussed, but as you studied their expressions, you noticed how similar they looked. Josh’s eyes locked with yours and he answered your question before you could ask it, “Yeah, we’re twins, Y/N.” He chuckled softly, “It’s always the first thing people ask…” You mumbled an apology, casting your eyes to the floor, “Nothing to be sorry for. But good news! You’re hired!”

“What?” You looked at him in shock, “I- But- Don’t you have to…ask more questions?” How did they decide that with just a series of facial expressions to one another? “Do you need references or… I don’t know, it’s never been this easy to get a job, there’s gotta be a catch…”

Jake disappeared through the door behind him for a moment and reemerged holding a t-shirt, “The catch is, you gotta be here bright and early tomorrow to start training.” He tossed the tee at you and slid a piece of paper over the counter, “Take this home, fill it out, and bring it back with you. I’ll see you here at 9am, peach.” He turned around, going back through the door and closing it behind him.

“I promise, he’s not as unpleasant as he makes himself seem.” Josh came around the corner to stand beside you and pulled the paper from the counter, “We’ll start your wages at $20.25 per hour. I just need you to fill out this application with all your basic information. Yanno, name, number, address, social. Then we’ll be able to get you on payroll asap.” He handed you the page with his bright grin that you were growing to really enjoy.

“I’ll take your word for it.” You stuffed the t-shirt and application into your tote bag, “So he’s training me tomorrow?” The distaste was evident in the way you forced a frown, “Are you gonna be around to soften that blow?” You were begging the universe for a yes, but wound up disappointed.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, “Mondays are my days off…” He gave an apologetic smile, “Jake’s actually really cool, Y/N. And I’ll make sure he goes easy on you.” As if he could sense the anxiety radiating from you, he offered a compromise, “Alright, I have some shit to get done tomorrow, but I’ll stop in around lunch to see how everything’s going. Okay?” He flashed that damn smile and you were sold.

“Thank you, Josh.” Your phone began to ring in your back pocket and you pulled it out, muttering a sorry to him as you answered it, “Hey, Bell.” You listened to her speak for a few moments, “No, I haven’t… I’m fucking starving, though. You wanna come pick me up?...Uhhh, I’m not sure, it’s a record store on Market Street…Yeah, I’ll just drop a pin… Perfect. Love you too, babe.” You hung up, sending her your location, and stuffed the phone back into your pocket. “Sorry about that.”

“Was that your boyfriend?” The question caught you off guard, but the apprehension on his face threw you off even more.

You shook your head, partially to answer his question, but also to clear your mind enough to form a response, “Umm. No. No, that was Bell- Bellamy.” You paused before elaborating further, “She’s my best friend. We moved down here together…”

He let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding in, “Oh! Cool.” The silence stretched between you and you weren’t sure if he felt as awkward as you did.

Your phone dinged, saving you from the tension, and you pulled it back out to see a text from your friend, “She’s here, so I’m gonna go…” You pointed towards the door before slowly turning away from him. Just as you reached the door, you looked back to see him watching you and tried to conceal the blush creeping onto your cheeks, “Any quick food recommendations? We haven’t eaten yet today… Oh! Preferably cheap?”

“If you’re looking for something close, Super Duper Burgers is great. Definitely check their seasonal menu.” He ran his fingers over his mustache, drawing your attention to his lips, “If you're willing to go a little further up the Market, Taqueria Cancun has some solid, authentic Mexican tacos. There’s a ton of sushi joints.”

“How about pizza? I’m kind of craving a greasy slice.” You knew Bellamy was waiting for you, but for some reason, you didn’t want to leave.

“Ahh, a girl after my own heart.” Josh pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds, “Slice House. Hands down, best pizza. You gotta try the Drunken Italian.” He pinched his fingers together, giving an exaggerated chef’s kiss, “The vodka sauce is fucking revolutionary.” You held eye contact for longer than you cared to admit, but then the corner of his lip curled into a smirk, “You better get going, your friend is waiting.”

“Yeah, I guess I should… See you tomorrow?” He nodded his head, forcing his curls to sway as he waved goodbye. “Bye, Josh.” You pushed through the door and found Bellamy waiting in your car at the curb.

She pulled her purse from the passenger seat as you slid in and handed your phone off with the directions to the pizza place, “Why am I not surprised that you already managed to find a music store?” She shifted the car into drive, hitting the blinker to pull out.

“Bell, I literally just walked in there and they hired me. I start tomorrow.” You almost didn’t believe the words that poured out of your mouth. “It was the weirdest thing… I walked by and there was this Jimi Hendrix poster, and you remember how much my dad loved Jimi?” She nodded, waiting for you to continue, “When I saw it, it just drew me in. I don’t know how to explain it. But I was standing there and this guy came up to me, Josh, and-.”

“Mhmm…” Bellamy cut you off with a knowing smirk, “Josh, huh?”

You scoffed at her, “No. Don’t start, it’s not even like that.” You didn’t defend any further, just proceeded with your story, “Anyways… He offered me a job and he and his brother interviewed me right on the spot. I start tomorrow morning and get this, Twenty dollars an hour, Bell.”

She gawked at you, eyes wide, “Twenty? That’s over the minimum wage here. Did you suck his dick to get it?” She laughed at her own joke as you lightly hit her arm.

“You’re an asshole, yanno?” You sat back in your seat, laughing with her. “He is pretty cute, I can’t lie… He just seems like a really fun person and he’s always smiling. Like the brightest smile you’d ever see... But his brother, Jake, was sort of insufferable.” You were chewing on your lip as she glanced at you.

“Insufferable how?” She turned to you fully as the car stopped at a red light.

You thought back to the short exchange you’d had with him, “He was arrogant as hell, for starters.” Her eyes went back to the road as she let off the brake and you continued, “He didn’t even bother to learn my name, just kept calling me ‘peach.’ You wouldn’t even know they were twins if they didn’t look identical.” You stared out the window, looking at the buildings to find Slice House.

Bellamy spotted the restaurant at the same time you did, swinging the car into the first available spot she could find, “Twins? Oh, you’re fucking joking, Y/N. We haven’t even lived here a full day!” She cut the engine as she glared at you, “How old are they?”

“I don’t know? Our age, maybe a little older… Why does it matter?” You were toying with your fingers, something you did when you were nervous. “Don’t give me that damn look, Bellamy! It’s just a job. You’re not gonna find some hidden context in this.” Pushing the car door open, you stepped out to end the conversation.

She was popping out of her side right after you, “Okay, babe. Whatever you say…” You knew she had more to say but she dropped the topic for the time being as you both walked into the restaurant.

💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿

You stood right outside of the door, looking at your reflection in the glass to straighten your shirt out. It was 8:48am and you were trying to work up the courage to go in, mentally preparing yourself to be trained by Jake. You were too focused on your reflection to see that he was coming across the store. The door pushed open and you jumped back with a yelp, “Did you plan on coming in for your shift or were you gonna spend another 15 minutes fixing your shirt?” He was holding the door, waiting for you to go inside.

You moved past him, rolling your eyes, “You know, you just make the atmosphere so inviting. How could I not want to be here?” You bit your tongue, aware of how much attitude you’d just given the man who is technically your boss. “Sorry, I-.” You turned back to face him but he was already breezing by you.

“You’re kind of a fucking brat…” You followed behind him, ready to argue his claim, but he was already moving on as though he’d said nothing at all, “Here. We got a long morning ahead of us and you’re gonna need to keep up with me.” He grabbed a cup from beside the register, handing it to you, and pointed to the door behind him, “There’s cream and sugar in the office if you need it, don’t take forever.” Taking the hot coffee without a word, you stepped around him to go into the office. When you came back, he was leaning against the counter, chin propped on his fist, “You fill that paper out, peach?”

Digging into your tote, you pulled the paper out and slapped it down in front of him, “That’s not my name, it’s-.”

“Y/N. I know” His lips curled into a conceited smirk and, had he not been walking away, you might have slapped it right off of his face, “Peach feels more fitting.” He waved his hand, beckoning you to follow him.

You fell into step as he walked towards the front of the store, “You saw fruit on my shirt and ran with it. Very original idea, can’t believe I didn’t think of it.” The look he had when he whipped around to face you made you clamp your mouth shut, but you couldn’t help the tingle you felt through your body at his response.

Jake was glaring at you with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place, “You’ve got a mouth on you.” He was pointing a finger at you, “and I can think of a few different ways to shut it.” Your jaw practically hit the floor as you stared at him and he flashed a devilish smile, knowing that he’d left you speechless. He turned away again, leading you to a display near the front door, “Pay attention.” You nodded silently as he started mapping things out for you, “This rack is all new release vinyls. We change most of them out weekly, depending on what kind of album drops there are.” He started walking towards the middle of the store, walking between the rows of shelves, “Everything is sorted by genre first and then alphabetical order.” You listened intently as he sped through the rundown, “We keep bargain bins down here.” He pulled open a cabinet door below one of the tables, revealing crates full of vinyls with torn and worn sleeves, “These are all used and donated, we sell them for $3 a piece or we do 10 for $10. It’s hit or miss, some work, some don’t.” Closing the cabinet, he moved to a different part of the store. You trailed quietly alongside him, soaking up all of the information he was spewing. After about 20 minutes, he’d looped you both back to the front, “Let’s see if you’ve kept up…” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to see if you’d maintained any of the knowledge.

“Okay…” You took a deep breath, “Here we have new releases. They get updated weekly, unless there aren’t any good drops.” You continued throughout the space, pouring everything he’d given you back out to him, until you made it to the checkout counter, “Limited Edition vinyls are kept behind the counter, the new inventory delivery comes every Friday morning at 8am sharp, and I think that’s everything…?”

Jake was nodding his head, surprisingly impressed, “Not bad, peach.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, “We got a half hour before we open at 11.” He plucked your application from the counter where you’d left it, “I’m gonna get through some paperwork. You can-” He was cut off by the sound of footsteps coming from the back of the store. “Liv? I thought we wouldn’t see you until summer?” He greeted the short, blonde girl.

She had a stereotypical valley girl accent, “Finished my semester early, figured you guys needed me more than UCLA.” She gave him a smile that looked like she wanted to devour him. Her eyes flashed to you dismissively before flying back to Jake, “You here by yourself? I can clock in and help out.”

You shifted on your feet, feeling out of place, and Jake took notice, “Not alone today, I have peach, here, to help out.” He nodded towards you.

“Peach?” She finally took the time to really look you over, “Were your parents hippies or something?”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, not sure how to respond, “Uhh. No, that’s not… My name is Y/N.” You reach out for a handshake, out of respect, but she just stared at your extended hand.

“Cool. I’m Olivia.” And just like that, she directed her attention back to Jake, “Can you fit me on the schedule this week?” She pushed her bottom lip out, looking like a toddler begging for candy, “I know you guys miss me.”

He shook his head with a faint smile, “I’ll talk to Josh.” He left it at that, turning to you, “Take that box and start putting the shit where it goes.” He pointed at the box on the floor.

“Aye aye, captain.” You saluted him with a smile and picked the box up.

A chuckle escaped his mouth and until that moment, you thought he was incapable of feeling joy, “I’ll be in the office if you need anything.” He started to walk around the counter, “I’ll let you know about the schedule, Liv.” He slipped through the door and closed it behind him, leaving you with the girl.

To avoid conversation, you gripped the box in your arms and lifted it to counter to begin sorting through it. Pulling out a stack of vinyls, you carried them through the store, fitting them into their rightful places. You hadn’t realized Olivia was following you until her low, grating voice creeped into your ears, “So…How did you get a job here?” She was watching you carefully, almost like she was waiting for you to make a mistake, “Jake is suuuper picky about who he hires.”

You looked at the last vinyl in the stack you were carrying, “Uhm, I just came in here yesterday to look at something and Josh offered me the job.” Moving through the tables, you went to the Country section and tucked the album away, “Jake gave me a shirt and told me to be here at 9am, so here I am.”

She was standing so close to you that you almost ran into her as you turned around to retrieve more from the box, “Here you are…” She sounded annoyed, but you ignored it as you pushed past her.

You went about your business for the next several minutes, finishing the task that Jake had given you, as she lingered through the store, watching you work while she pretended to browse the music. You pulled the empty box from the counter, ready to ask your boss what he wanted you to do next, when the bell on the front door chimed. You turned around to see a man come in and go straight to the New Release rack. He perused for a few moments before moving to the tables to search through the records. You expected Jake to emerge from the office, but he never did. After a few minutes of the guy looking entirely lost in his search, you took a deep breath and made your way over to him. Your eyes flicked to Olivia to see her staring at you, a cocky grin on her face. “Hi, can I help you find something, hun?” You put on your best customer service smile as he turned to face you.

“Actually yeah…” He looked like he was maybe in his early twenties and he seemed nervous, “I’m looking for something for my dad. He just bought himself a record player, but he doesn’t have any records for it.” He gave a shrug, “I don’t really know where to start here.”

This wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be, “Okay, do you know what kind of music he likes? Any specific artist or band?” You waited patiently for him to answer.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times, and held it up to show you, “This is a band right? I think he likes them.” It was a picture of a man, probably his father, wearing a Led Zeppelin tour t-shirt.

Your eyes went back to his face, giving him another sweet grin, “Yeah. Zeppelin’s a great band. Your dad has great taste.” You moved around him to walk him over to the appropriate shelves, “We should have a ton of their stuff… Do you want anything specific?” You had a feeling that he wouldn’t know what to choose.

“I- Well, what would you recommend?” He stood by while you flicked through the selection, “Which one is the best?”

“That’s a tricky question.” You pulled a few vinyls from the display, holding them up one by one, “So, Zep one is a safe choice. It’s their first studio album, really opened up the door for them, plus it’s got a couple really great blues covers.” You slid that one to the back of your stack to reveal the next, “ Two is also good. You get Whole Lotta Love, Ramble On, Heartbreaker.” He was nodding as you pulled your final option forward, “This one is my personal favorite.” You held up the album, showing him the cover with the peeling paint and the old man carrying a bundle of sticks, “I kind of skipped over three, but Zoso…This is their fourth studio album, and arguably the best.” You handed it to the boy to examine, “Going to California is probably my favorite song of all time. But it’s also got Stairway to Heaven and When the Levee Breaks. Black Dog. If your dad is a Led Zeppelin fan, then he’ll definitely appreciate this.”

“You know what, I’ll take this one and the first one you showed me.” You handed him the first album before turning to put the remaining one back on the shelf. He was smiling wide as he took it from you, “So are you like a music expert or something?”

You giggled at his question, “I wouldn’t say expert… Just really appreciative of what’s good.” You were staring at his light blue eyes, almost entranced in them when Jake barked your name from the counter. You jumped, whipping around to look at him with wide eyes. He held his hand up, waving for you to go to him, “Gimme one minute.” You called out to him and went to turn back to the man in front of you, but Jake’s voice rang out louder.

“No. Right now, Y/N.” He was leaning his hands on the countertop, glaring in your direction, but his eyes weren’t on you.

You muttered an apology to the blue-eyed boy, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.” You shuffled across the store, embarrassed at how he’d just spoken to you in front of your first customer, but also pissed at how he treated you like you were an insolent child. You stood in front of him, whisper-yelling to avoid further embarrassment, “What the hell, Jake? What did I do?” You looked around, realizing that Olivia was gone.

“You’re here to work, not flirt.” There was an edge to his tone that you couldn’t fully decipher.

“What?” You stared at him in shock, “I wasn’t- I was making a sale! Yanno? What you hired me to do…” Was this conversation even real?

He stepped out from behind the counter, “Go wait in the office, I’ll finish your sale.” You moved to try and stop him but his voice was dangerously low, stopping you in your tracks, “Office, Y/N. I’ll carry you in there myself if I have to.” He turned on his heel, walking towards the customer without another word, and you found yourself obeying his command to wait in the office.

Pushing through the door, you looked around the small space before closing it and dropping into a chair. You were highly considering just quitting as soon as he came in, but at the same time, you didn’t want to. Everything was so confusing… Why did he accuse you of flirting when he wasn’t even there? And why did the possibility of you flirting make him so mad? You sunk further into your seat, pondering your own questions, but the one you needed an answer for most; Why did you so easily bend to his will? You were pulled from your thoughts by the door opening.

“Good to know you’re capable of obeying orders, peach…”

🤍Taglist🤍

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @ieatedsammy @twistedmelodies @dropdeadalyx31 @ageofbajabule @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @ignite-my-fire @becinabubblegvf @literal-dead-leaf @sanguinebats @myleftsock @laneygvf @writingcold @sinarainbows @lipstickitty @giraffehippy

#jake kiszka #josh kiszka #gvf twin series #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka fic #josh kiskza smut #gvf fic #Spotify

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jo-harrington · 12 days

Text

Pinprick (A Gutterballs Story)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Jo!Reader

Summary: You're sitting down to listen to one of your favorite podcasts when you hear your name as one of a long line of Eddie's loves, and you have a moment of reflection.

Note: This is a very very very late post in dedication to one of my fandom loves @dr-aculaaa (who is very much on hiatus but still deserves all of the love us resident weirdos have to give) and not only one of my favorite fics Sunday Morning but the offshoot she made for Valentine's Day: Gutterballs.

IT STARTS OUT SWEET BUT ITS A LITTLE ANGSTY AT THE END. SORRY DRAC. WE SORT OF TALKED ABOUT THIS. THE TIMELINE.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

You're sitting on the floor.

To be completely honest, you shouldn't be on the floor. You knew that, your doctor knew that, your team knew that. In fact, they yelled at you when you got down there, legs akimbo in a way that was comfortable for you to sit in but uncomfortable for them to look at, so you could start ripping the sleeves off of this fucking jacket.

You're alone in the studio now, hours after everyone left.

It's just you, a bottle of Tums, your favorite fucking jacket, and the dulcet tones of the man who gave it to you coming from your phone.

“Welcome back to another episode of Gutterballs! My name is Eddie Munson..."

As if he had to introduce himself.

"Nerd," you scoffed fondly.

It's your Wednesday night ritual. Well, not the jacket or the floor or the tums...Gutterballs. At the least, you owed it to your former client; at the most, you owed it to your ex.

And Eddie Munson was both of those things.

Although "ex" is a relative term.

An ex wouldn't still send you a gift basket full of goodies every award season when you barely took care of yourself, the way Eddie did for you.

An ex wouldn't shoot an email with wardrobe recommendations when they hear about some charity concert or something, like you did for Eddie and Corroded Coffin.

Still telling me what to wear Jo?

He would email back almost immediately.

Doesn't seem like anyone else is. I saw you at Lolla Ed. Not cute.

Would be your response.

You don't think I'm cute anymore?

That would go unanswered though.

Until next time.

Because you were exes.

But an ex didn't keep the jacket their ex got them because it was their favorite. Exes didn't take apart said favorite jacket because it got a rip in the sleeve, and then plan to just cut two new sleeves for it. Nor did they spend the last 20-ish years mending the jacket that their ex-slash-former-client got them as an apology for a spontaneous kiss before a red carpet.

---

The CFCA awards ceremony wasn't the band's usual haunt but they had composing credits for a film score that was up for nomination. It was a big deal. Something that would take them to a new caliber of their career; not just rowdy rockstars, but well-rounded musicians.

So of course, they were running late.

Their suits all needed a bit of alteration, Eddie was chattering nervously as you hemmed his pants, Gareth drummed a beat on his leg with two of the hangers from your roll rack and Phil, the band's manager, yelling for you all to get a move on.

"Do you want them to look good or not!" You yelled right back. "I'm not having them go up for their award looking like shit Phil!"

"Yeah remember the Grammy's," Jeff pointed out. "That's why you got us a stylist in the first place."

"You'd have thought you paid them to be here or something," Phil grumbled at you from across the room.

"I do pay," you shot up at Eddie with a conspiratorial smile. "With my sanity."

This was your schtick. He let you dress him in whatever dark-romantic victorian-gothic-inspired outfits your former-Catholic heart could dream up, and in return you let him be the spieling midwestern boy that he really wasn't allowed to be anywhere else. Because yeah the band was in charge here really--they were the talent, the money--but Eddie didn't like the whole pomp and circumstance of celebrity. Not anymore, according to him at least.

"The drugs are fun until they're not," he told you once. "We're just...guys from Indiana."

So you'd let them be that in the safety of your studio, shithead manager be damned.

You severed the thread with a swift bite of your teeth and wished the guys good luck with hugs before sending them on their way.

But Eddie...Eddie chose that moment to kiss you.

Well, you kissed each other.

As everyone walked out of the studio to get down to the car, you kissed each other.

And you froze.

Both of you.

Because it was a romantic, world-ending kiss. A kiss of declaration. A kiss of familiarity. The kiss you gave someone when you loved them for a long time and didn't know how to tell them.

Only...you hadn't loved each other for a long time.

Had you?

Hadn't said anything of the sort at least.

That wasn't love...was it?

He left for the awards ceremony and you absolutely spiraled questioning it all. You thought about all the long walks down State Street discussing ideas for this event and that one. The way he got you a membership to the Art Institute so you could sit in front of Salome and Hercules for hours and be inspired. The nights that he just couldn't work on lyrics anymore, so he would come over to sit in absolute silence save for the droning sound of your sewing machine.

The aches of the world were just a little bit easier when you could be near each other, whether it was being inspired or talking shit or sinking further into oblivion.

Was that love?

Eddie must have spiraled too. Because he showed up at your studio past midnight, disheveled and with a green Marshall Field's bag in his hand. A bag containing, you'd find out later, a black wool and leather coat that sat in a window that you'd noted looked nice months ago. One he made the guys make a special stop for before the award ceremony so he could get you to make up for fucking up your professional relationship.

The apologies were stuck on the tips of your tongues though.

And there was a beat before some silent decision was made.

And your lips came back together again, solidifying that decision, even though the words weren't said.

---

“Today on Gutterballs,” Mrs. H’s announces on the phone, breaking you from your reflection, “our lovely listeners at home are in for a real treat. As we record and discuss topics such as first loves, lost loves, and, as you can see, from our current location -body modifications."

“First we have… A spool and thread for Jo."

"She used to poke my ankles like a voodoo doll when she hemmed my pants. I still have the scars, if you wanna check ‘em out. I think that was her way of saying I love you."

Yeah that was the way it was with the two of you.

All the ways you said I love you without the words being said.

And they would never be said.

But that was another story.

"Yeah," you agree with Mrs. H belatedly, seam ripper making quick work of a line of stitches. "Lost love sounds better than ex."

#eddie munson x reader #gutterballs #drac <3

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barbiegirldream · 6 months

Note

they cheer abt those ccs unfollowing him and take it as evidence he was guilty, but fail, absolutely fucking fail to consider that maybe, just maybe, there’s a reason none of his female friends have done the same. Maybe there’s a reason all of his female friends speak so highly of him. I personally trust the character judgement of Hannah Sylvee Tina Bella Gia Puffy Andrea etc etc than I would any of the British male ccs when it comes to situations like this.

I mean if they'd like I can pull up a timeline

Allegations - October 2022

DSMP Finale - November 2022. Tommy ignores the Drop Dream hashtag completely. Tubbo says he'll look into the allegations. Continues to support Dream

And I'd have to go back to double check the months exactly but inbetween October of 2022 and August of 2023 that is 8 months we had. Tommy trying to get the DSMP S2 off the ground for all of December-Jan. We had Dream on Squidcraft. We had live phone calls of Tommy and Tubbo saying they were excited about something Dream is doing which USMP rip. We had all the USMP which Tommy was all in for an defending to Phil. We had meet up plans. We had Tommy thanking Dream in his live show for saving his life. It was only until they realized they weren't getting the USMP that Tommy said shit

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themculibrary · 9 months

Text

Maria/Natasha Masterlist 2

part one

And We Will Come Back Home (ao3) - fairywriter G, 1k

Summary: In the few seconds that were her own Natasha would bring out her phone and call Maria’s number just to hear her voice.

a normal, adult friendship (ao3) - basha N/R, 6k

Summary: Maria Hill and Steve Rogers decide to try a normal, adult friendship. They bond over their love of the Dodgers, their sexualities, and their hopeless crushes on Russian ex-assassins.

a thing that wants (ao3) - magdaliny E, 5k

Summary: “Hey, Steve,” Bucky says. “We’re gonna find Nat a dame, okay?”

Natasha shoves him into the pool.

Confessions of an Angel (ao3) - keiko48460 M, 129k

Summary: Maria Hill, is on the run from the government who betrayed her. She finds sanctuary with Shield but a war is coming, and her past is lurking around every corner.

Fury believes she can lead the Avengers. Maria thinks she belongs in a cage. Will she learn to control her powers with the help of the Avengers and Shield or will the darkness within her consume everything she hold dear?

Darling, so it goes (ao3) - TheTruthAboutLove M, 31k

Summary: In 2055, after HYDRA has taken over, but Fury is organizing a resistance cell in Chicago, he runs into a young Maria Hill and takes her in, having no idea of her full potential. In NYC, Tony Stark is covertly leading the rebellion in another, larger-scale fashion, with the help of Natasha Romanoff.

don't bring tomorrow (i'll lose you) (ao3) - dephinecormier M, 1k

Summary: “Just because we’ve fucked for years doesn’t mean that you know me.” Maria shoves Natasha back once more, pushing until the back of Natasha’s knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Well, clearly I don’t.” Natasha growls out, ripping herself out of Maria’s grip and flips them cleanly. Maria stifles a gasp as Natasha kicks her legs out from under her and slams her down on the bed. Her elbow digs sharply into Maria’s chest as she presses down, leaning in.

#girlavenger, or How Natasha Trended on Twitter and Saved the World (ao3) - burritosong T, 5k

Summary: Natasha becomes an internet phenomenon. It's nothing that she was ever trained for.

how to date your friendly neighbourhood super secret agent. (ao3) - dustbear M, 21k

Summary: Agents Maria Hill and Phil Coulson accidentally meet the woman and man of their dreams(respectively), and have to work hard to keep their super secret agent spy jobs a secret in the pursuit of something resembling a normal dating life.

Coincidentally, so do Natasha and Clint.

If There Was a Me for You (ao3) - false_alexis T, 16k

Summary: When Maria is sent to intercept the Black Widow, there are certain things she wasn't expecting- certain very inconvenient things. Now they're stuck trying to distinguish the desirable from the inevitable.

Soulbond AU

i'm staying at my parents’ house and the road not taken looks real good now (ao3) - hhhillhouse N/R, 22k

Summary: Natasha takes The Avengers to her family's farm to recover after their first run-in with the Scarlet Witch and promptly flirts with Maria Hill in front of everyone, whether she admits it or not. (Black Widow comes before Age of Ultron in this storyline)

just when you escape you have yourself to fear (ao3) - capanon E, 18k

Summary: "Natasha was intimately familiar with being the center of this particular circus back on day one. She knew from experience that, like herself, Maria Hill was not a woman to crack under pressure." In which Natasha has commitment issues, fights aliens, and still gets the girl.

Kairos (ao3) - Pumpkinnubbin T, 137k

Summary: When Fury sends Natasha to Hill's place for help, this isn’t what she's expected to find.

Cue a mysterious child, one overprotective mother, and Natasha's unwillingness to be roped into things.

Maria's Rule (ao3) - MTL17 E, 65k

Summary: Natasha convinces Maria to break her own rule on workplace fraternisation. Repeatedly.

My Number One with a Bullet (ao3) - wintersoldier1989 E, 7k

Summary: Even though they’ve had a co-workers with benefits arrangement going on for a while now, Maria is struggling to keep the lines from blurring, especially where Natasha is concerned.

one more game, please (ao3) - powercrow M, 2k

Summary: Maria and Natasha are undercover. So are their feelings.

stuck on me like a tattoo (ao3) - letter2thepast T, 967

Summary: Maria Hill and Natasha Romanov are both tattoo fiends. Just in different ways.

The Taste of Her Cherry Chapstick (ao3) - cartersleia T, 1k

Summary: Natasha stares, breathless, as Agent Hill applied chapstick to her lips, blood still dripping down her nose.

They were both deadly assassins. They were both badass Agents of SHIELD, and both were in the quinjet returning from a mission that almost cost them their lives, hence both her and Maria's bloody noses and Nat's split lip.

So...why was Maria so attractive to her right now? When she's applying chapstick of all things?

Her lips just look so...supple, and soft, but Nat knows she'd also kiss rough. She'd kiss demanding, in charge, shoving Natasha against a wall as her lips smacked against Maria's.

That's the ideal life, she thinks.

Unchained (ao3) - dongyrn M, 175k

Summary: A girl with powers she is just beginning to comprehend is thrust unprepared into the world. Can she find the help she needs? Features primarily the Avengers timeline and characters with other MCU tie-ins, including Daredevil, Alias, and X-Men (yes, mutants, I went there) among others. Light OC Femslash, a BlackHill subplot, and some comic-based cameos.

What if Natasha Didn't Go to Vormir? (ao3) - phg M, 163k

Summary: What would happen if Natasha couldn't go to Vormir because they only had enough Pym Particles for 10 people and 11 had survived the snap to go back? (Read the tags carefully!)

A story about sisterhood (and love) that follows Natasha, Maria, Yelena, and eventually Kate in the time period from Endgame to post-Hawkeye.

You Mean Everything (ao3) - startrekkingaroundasgard T, 5k

Summary: Natasha asks Maria to be her date to the Christmas party but then doesn’t show when the night comes. Maria leaves broken hearted only to find Natasha waiting at her doorstep.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #blackhill #blackhill masterlist #masterlists #f/f #femslash

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meowmeow-motherfucker · 6 months

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Covenant- Chapter 1

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC Claire

Rating: E

TW: sexist language and themes, Odin's A+ parenting, Loki being a dick, trauma, mentions of torture

Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51197938

New York

The shrill shriek of her ringtone ripped through Claire’s silent bedroom. Groaning, Claire rolled over and buried her head under the pillows. She was supposed to be off today. Whoever was calling could fuck off. If she was going to be forcibly out of the field, she was going to milk it. She ignored the sound, determined to remain in her dark, warm nest as long as she damn well pleased.

The phone stopped ringing and Claire breathed easily, her scrunched features relaxing as she started to drift back to sleep. She turned to her other side, settling into the valley between her pillows and beginning to sleepily plan her lazy day. She’d treat herself to breakfast at her favorite diner, take a walk in Central Park, and inevitably end up at the bookstore. Later she’d pick up ingredients for dinner from the nearby corner store and get wine drunk while she watched Bob’s Burgers and then fall asleep reading her new book.

The ringtone shrieked again, the vibration now rattling the headboard. Claire growled again, grunting when the phone’s vibration caused it to fall off the headboard and hit her directly in the face.

Not even bothering to open her eyes, Claire reached up from beneath the blankets to answer the incessant ringtone. It took a few tries to grab her phone, as it got lost in the shuffle of blankets as if to taunt her, but Claire finally managed to answer the call with a grumbled ‘hello?’

“We need you to come in.” Phil said without preamble. There was only one reason he’d be calling her.

“Now?” Claire sighed, already annoyed she was still dealing with this. She’d thought she’d sent the Asgardian emissary packing at field day. She clearly wasn’t princess material and in her mind, Njord must have gone scurrying back to Odin to report all the ways she sucked. ‘She’s a beast, my lord.’ The Njord in her head cried pathetically. ‘She used foul language! She dared to say marriage is stupid!’ “It’s not even 7 am.”

“The emissary called another meeting and you need to be here. Please Claire; this is really important and I want you to have a say in this.”

“’This’ meaning that stupid arranged marriage bullshit? I’m pretty sure I already told you no.”

“Claire, please,” Phil sighed. “Odin is insisting on moving forward with the marriage. You’re the only option we have and the emissary wants to sit down with you to discuss the treaty in depth.”

“…what?” Claire wasn’t sure how to process that. “He rejected everyone?”

“Apparently he was impressed by your performance at field day, although he did say you were rude,” Claire snickered as she recalled the shocked look on the man’s face when she’d told him ‘abso-fuckin-lutely not’ when he’d asked her to meet with him. “He also mentioned that whoever we send will be marrying Thor.” Phil added.

“Oh hell no!” Claire yelled, shooting up into a sitting position. “No way; I will NOT marry Thor! God that’s gross on so many-”

“If you don’t like it, then get down here and say something! The emissary looks like he’s fifteen for God’s sake; yell at him enough and he’ll cave.”

“And then Fury will yell at me for making a child cry! Remember, I had to go to that stupid seminar last time?” Claire huffed angrily. “This is why I said no; I don’t have the patience for this crap.”

“You honestly don’t care that we’re discussing your future?” Phil asked.

“Bold of you to assume I can’t just disappear if I want to.” Claire replied dryly.

“Just get here. NOW.” Phil hung up, leaving Claire in the silence of her apartment.

~~~~

Claire arrived at Avengers tower in what seemed like the foulest mood of her life. Nerves were stewing in her belly, and she managed to propel herself forward by listing everything she currently hated. Stupid Fury. Stupid Odin. Stupid THOR- what self-respecting god of thunder let himself be pushed into a marriage? Her toe caught a chip in the sidewalk, tripping her up and making her scowl deepen. Stupid sidewalk. Stupid Uncle Phil for even getting her into this mess.

The receptionist greeted her from behind her little fortress as Claire made her way to the elevator and sighed as the doors slid closed.

“Mornin’ Claire,” Clint greeted her warmly as he dropped in from the ceiling. “How are you feeling today?”

“Hi Clint,” Claire said. “I have a meeting with Fury and some Asgardian dickwad to discuss-” she cringed. “Marriage. How do you think I’m feeling?”

“Yeah I heard.” Clint nodded, commiserating with her silently.

“Doing much eavesdropping lately?” Claire asked flatly. Clint shrugged. Claire figured the Avengers were privy to just about anything. “Why are you here anyway? Were you elevator surfing or something?”

“Nah. Saw you come in, thought I’d say hi.”

“Is this normal for you?” Claire asked as the elevator reached Fury’s level. “Y’know what; tell me later. I have to go make sure no one is pledging my immortal soul to Cthulhu or something equally archaic.”

“I’ve heard the Flying Spaghetti Monster is a forgiving master; in case you need a suggestion.” Clint offered. Claire snorted a laugh.

“Thanks Clint.”

“Anytime.” Claire stepped out of the elevator, turning back when she heard a clang. She saw the toe of Clint’s boot disappearing up into the ceiling of the elevator and rolled her eyes. Clint was nuts. The elevator doors closed and she started walking toward Fury’s office.

“Don’t tell me you started the meeting without me!” Claire called when Fury came into her line of vision. He was outside his office talking with her uncle, and both turned to greet her.

“We’ve been stalling,” Phil said to her relief. “Our friend is losing patience, so we should get to it.”

“Thank you for coming. I don’t want you to feel left out of this decision.” Fury offered her a tight grin.

“That’s why you already invited the guy, right Nick?”

“Odin sent him; I can’t just send him back without talking to him. You know the protocol, Agent.” Fury said sternly.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Claire snapped. “It’s 2017 and you two idiots thought it would be okay to make this decision for me.”

“Nothing is set in stone,” Fury replied calmly. “We only pitched our agents as options because Odin refused to allow Doctor Foster to take part in the alliance. We didn’t make him pick you.”

“Doesn’t matter! I never said a fucking word about being interested in this archaic bullshit and yet it’s now become a problem I have to deal with. I don’t get paid enough for this-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Phil cut in. “We’re not going to talk about it anymore. You’re here; that means you go into that room with us and help us work out a deal that makes you happy,” At Claire’s droll look he frowned. “Happier than you are at the moment,” He hedged. “At least hear what he has to say.”

“Fine.” Claire grumped, following sulkily when Fury and Phil led her to the meeting room. Maria Hill sat inside at the long conference table, along with Thor and a young man wearing leather armor and a pouty look on his face.

“Gentlemen, thank you for waiting,” Fury said as they entered and took seats. Fury sat at the head of the table, and Claire sat next to Phil, opposite Thor and Pouty-Face. “This is Claire, one of my agents here at S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Ah yes! She has agreed?” Pouty-Face asked doubtfully.

“I’m actually here to discuss some concerns with this treaty,” Claire replied diplomatically, trying to make a somewhat good impression. Pouty-Face made a motion for her to continue. For looking so young, he was perfectly coiffed and composed, looking down his nose at her. “I would like to read the proposal before we go any further please.”

“You are not aware of the offer?” Njord asked. “Perhaps you should have met with me when I asked.”

“I’m a firm believer in reading the fine print,” Claire said as Maria slid her a copy of the current proposal.“

“My king extends a most generous offer. Whomever we select will be given Idunn’s apples to extend their life span, receive a lavish lifestyle with anything and everything you could desire, servants, wealth…”

“Babies,” Claire stabbed a finger at a blurb of text. “Whoever goes would be required to have babies?”

“Children are an expected outcome of any union, Lady Claire.” Claire felt dread settle in her stomach like a stone. How in the hell would she navigate that? She’d never given any thought to having rugrats, and now the choice was being made for her? Fuck that.

“Okay, you know what? Shame on all of you. You and you-” she pointed at Njord and Thor in turn. “I can almost give a pass for this. You come from a different culture where women don’t seem to have much choice. But here we do. So the rest of you assholes who decided MY reproductive future can get fucked.”

“Agent-”

“Fuck you, Nick! Forget about me- any woman should have the right to make this decision. What if I couldn’t have kids? What if I didn’t want them; too bad?”

“Are you unable to bear children?” Njord asked. “If you are that would disqualify you from participating.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never tried,” Claire scoffed. “I have a dangerous job. I’ve made every effort not to get knocked up.”

“We would need assurance that you are capable of producing children.” Njord said haughtily.

“Okay first of all, I have other things to offer besides my eggs-”

“Without children, the alliance would break down within a generation,” Njord argued. “This is not only for your people’s current population, but the population going forward. This is a great honor!”

“This is fucking dumb, is what it is. Seriously, arranged marriage is how we agree not to kill each other-”

“If you wish to mock our traditions, you may leave.”

“Why, so you can con some girl off the street into this?” Claire scoffed. “Oh wait, I forgot- you already rejected all the other options!”

“Why don’t all take some time to cool off and come back?” Fury suggested, cutting Claire off before she could dig herself a deeper hole.

“Indeed.” Njord said curtly. Claire shoved away from the table, breaking out into the hallway with an angry growl.

“So obviously that could have gone better-”

“Did you know whoever they picked was gonna have to have babies?” Claire rounded on Phil.

“Not fully-”

“But you had a better idea than I did! Are you kidding me with this shit?” Claire hissed. “It’s 2017, Phil, how in the fuck would you think it’s okay to force a woman to have babies!?”

“It’s shitty, I know,” Phil held up his hands in defense. “This is their culture you’re stepping into. It’s not as forward thinking as it is here; it’s going to be a shock. It’s going to be a challenge for you.”

“Why am I even here, Uncle Phil?” Claire asked. “I’m not this person. You know me. I’m not a timid little girl who’s going to be subservient and follow behind somebody for the rest of my life.”

“But you see the bigger picture. Think of the impact you could have there-”

“What impact?” Claire scoffed. “You heard the guy- the biggest impact I could have is by having a productive cooch.” She kicked a trashcan, sending the contents fluttering along the pristine floor. An agent walking down the hallway sneered at her, skittering away in fear when Claire hissed at him like a cat.

“Okay yes, it’s a downside. I know kids were never in your life plan. But there has to be more.”

“And what if there isn’t? What if I agree to this, and my shiny new life is a shit show?”

“It’s a big risk. But I know you’ve always wanted to help people. It’s part of why you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place. If you do this, and you go to Asgard, you could do a world of good for people there and here. Of course it’ll be different than you’re used to, but you would have power and influence you don’t and will never have here.”

“Yeah, but...is that worth what I’m giving up?”

“I can’t decide that for you,” Phil said sympathetically. “Take a couple minutes and think about it.” he patted her arm before leaving her alone in the hallway.

Claire stalked off in a huff, anger boiling in her veins. She wound up in a small break room that was mercifully empty. She sank into a chair with a sigh, trying to calm down enough to be logical.

Problem one: she had to have babies with whichever prince she married. Babies meant sex, which Claire was a fan of, but having babies often took more than one try. It wasn’t like Thor wasn’t nice to look at, but there was zero chemistry between them. They were friendly, but it was like a flat soda.

Claire wasn’t signing her life away for lackluster orgasms and no fizzle.

The door opened and Claire’s head shot up to see Thor. He offered a grim smile as he sat across from her at the table.

“Lady Claire I understand you have reservations about this,” he began. “But I give you my word- I would do everything in my power to make you happy.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Claire waved off his concern. “But tell me the truth. Would you want to have babies with me?”

“No,” Thor shook his head. “You are a fierce and skilled warrior, and I have no doubt you would be an excellent mother, but-”

“You don’t want to sleep with me.”

“I do not.” Thor said apologetically. Claire laughed at his stark reply.

“The feeling is mutual, dude,” she cackled. “I really don’t understand why your dad won’t accept Jane. It’s the obvious solution.”

“He feels that her background is not…” Thor paused, drumming his fingers on the formica tabletop. “Conducive to the hardship of ruling, is what he said.” he offered a sarcastic smile.

“That’s dumb. Jane is one of the smartest people in the world.” Thor brightened, his smile widening as he nodded. “So obviously, for me to take part in this, I couldn’t marry you. I may not know the two of you very well, but it’s clear that you care for each other, and I’m not in the business of busting up happy couples.”

“I thank you for your consideration. I fear it is something another person may not think of. This kind of offer...it tends to bring out the wolves.” Claire snorted. It was an incredible offer, and people could be greedy sons of bitches.

“I can imagine,” she said softly. “I’ll be upfront with you. I don’t think I’m the right person for this. Sure I have the ‘background’ that your dad wants, and I made an impression at field day,” Claire rolled her eyes. Thor grinned at her air quotes. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I’m too loud and opinionated and I would probably get sent home for pissing off the nobles.” Thor chuckled.

“You and my brother would get on well.”

“Loki?” Claire asked. “You think so?” Thor nodded.

“I realize your people have a very colored opinion of him, and for good reason,” Thor held up a hand to stop her interrupting. “He is misguided, of that there is no doubt, but he has a good heart.”

“And you think he’d go for something like this?”

“I do not know,” Thor shook his head. “Loki has never had a high opinion of marriage, but if it offers him a chance to leave his cell…”

“Right,” Claire sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair. “He’s been locked up since New York. He’s probably losing his mind. No offense.”

“None taken,” Thor replied swiftly. “He is not himself and has not been for some time, but when we were children...I could not have asked for a better friend.”

“And you think getting out of prison would help him be like that again?”

“Possibly,” Thor shrugged. “I do not want to make false promises. But you would be protected.”

“He is pretty hot,” Claire remarked under her breath. “What? I have eyes.” she said defensively when Thor gawked at her. Thor held up his hands.

“So the thought of fulfilling marital duties with my brother isn’t as terrible as it is with me?”

“Much less,” Claire admitted, laughing when Thor gagged. “I will leave that to Jane.”

“If this is what you wish, I will help where I can. But Njord’s words about our traditions still stand- it is an ancient law of the land that the eldest child must wed before the younger siblings can be eligible. My father will have to be persuaded to allow this.”

“All I can do is try right?” Claire asked. “And if your dad says no, I’ll bow out.” Thor nodded in understanding before he pushed away from the table.

“I will give you some time to consider our discussion.” he got to his feet, treading toward the door with an air of resignation.

“Hey Thor?” she called after him. He turned on his heel, arm braced on the door frame as he looked back at her. “If I do this...what am I getting myself into?”

“My brother may be misguided, Lady Claire, but he would treat you with the honor you deserve. You would want for nothing.”

“That’s great and all, but what else? I have freedom here, Thor. I have a life. If I sign on the dotted line, am I giving all that up?”

“There is freedom in being a royal, but also significant cost. You will always have duties, responsibilities-”

“But is that all there is? Having babies and...being ornamental?” Thor’s mouth twisted as he considered his words, pounding on the door frame with his meaty fist.

“I do not know the extent of the rules ladies are bound by,” he said softly. “But my mother has always kept herself busy with things outside her familial duties,” he offered a tight smile. “I shall inform the others you need a few more moments.” he left her alone again and Claire embraced the silence the eldest Odinson left behind.

She wasn’t lying; she did find Loki attractive. Who wouldn’t? The man had a face made for sitting on. Tall, dark and lean, the second son of Asgard was far more her type than Thor. Even though his countenance was gaunt in all the surveillance she had seen, she could see the razor sharp cut of his cheekbones. The elegance in his strut. The long tapered fingers of his large hands.

Claire shoved back from the table, figuring it was better to strike while the pan was hot. She walked back slowly, listing the reasons a marriage to Loki could work better than a marriage to Thor. They did have commonalities: daddy issues, anger issues...they were both clear-cut Slytherins. Having sex with him would not be a hardship. She was still not fully sold on having babies with anyone, but Loki seemed a better prospect overall than Thor. Claire knew she’d be miserable with Thor.

At least with Loki there was hope.

“There you are!” Phil crowed as she came around the corner. Thor, Phil, Fury, Maria and Njord stood clustered in the hallway waiting for her return.

“May we continue?” Njord asked.

“Let’s hit it.” Claire agreed, walking back into the conference room.

“Have you had time to consider the offer?” Njord asked as they all returned to their seats.

“Just to be clear, the proposed alliance would be conditional upon my marriage to one of Odin’s sons; is that right?”

“You are correct Lady Claire, however the All-Father has decreed that the chosen Midgardian maiden would wed his eldest son, Prince Thor.” Pouty-Face gave a polite nod to Thor.

“Uh huh,” Claire nodded, scribbling Thor’s name from the paper and inking Loki’s name instead. “I’m not interested.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Pouty-Face replied, looking over at Thor nervously. “Prince Thor would make a fine husband- you would want for nothing-”

“Look, I know Thor. We’re friends,” Claire looked at Thor, who offered an encouraging smile. “But we’re not that close. And I can’t agree to marry him when he’s already involved with someone.” She added, glancing back over to Thor.

“I have also expressed my concerns about being forced into this marriage,” Thor said diplomatically. “I understand that my father is anxious to see this through but I cannot in good conscience abandon Jane to marry another.”

“It has already been decided!” Pouty-Face said crossly. “Lady Claire and Prince Thor will be married-”

“Listen, dude-”

“Njord.”

“Whatever!” Claire huffed. “I’m not marrying Thor. The person who should be in here would be a far better candidate in my opinion-”

“Lady Jane was not selected by the Allfather. He feels that someone with your skills and experience working under Lord Fury, would be a more suitable companion for his son.”

“I’m NOT. MARRYING. THOR!” Claire enunciated angrily.

“Lady Claire,” Njord said with false patience. “As I said- per our traditions, the eldest son must marry first. Even if the Allfather were to allow Thor to not take part in the alliance, your only other option would be the war criminal Loki,” Njord counseled. Claire had expected to hear his name at some point, but the venom in Njord’s voice threw her off. “Knowing his past deeds, could you truly accept this arrangement with him?” he questioned doubtfully. Claire paused, tapping the pen on the tabletop as she thought. Loki was the far more attractive option to her, but Njord’s hostility just mentioning him made it obvious that people did not like him. Would they hate her for marrying him?

“Claire?” Phil nudged her from the side, drawing her from her thoughts.

“I want to circle back to the part about babies.” Njord looked like he wanted to reach across the table and shake her.

“While it is true there is a burden to produce heirs for the line of succession, Prince Loki is second in line for the throne and would only become eligible to rule if Prince Thor should abdicate or the Allfather were to become incapacitated.” he replied coolly.

“So is that a definite requirement?” Claire pressed. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.”

“Yes, Lady Claire, it is a requirement,” Njord sounded like a parent trying to explain to their destructive child why they couldn’t stick forks in a toaster. “Knowing this, do you consent to marry prince Loki and fulfill the provisions of the alliance?” Njord asked. Claire’s heart beat a wild rhythm and sweat made the pen in her hand slippery. Hekate help me. Please don’t let me be walking into a lifetime of misery.

“Yes,” Claire said softly, clearing her throat. “I consent.” She repeated loudly, making the tension in the room dissipate.

“And if my king is unconvinced?” Njord pressed.

“Look, he wanted to form an alliance with my planet by marrying one of his sons to someone who wasn’t Jane. I’m Claire; have we met?”

“I was simply asking-”

“He’s getting two out of his three terms. I know for a fact I’m your only option. You rejected everyone else. So if I walk, you have to repeat this circus all over again. Since he’s anxious to see this through and soon, I’d say that’s the best deal he’s going to get. He can take it or leave it.”

“Indeed,” Njord agreed. “Very well, I shall inform my king and he will come to a decision. We will have an answer for you in a fortnight.”

“Fantastic, can’t wait,” Claire replied, getting to her feet and stalking out of the room, Thor hot on her heels. Jane sat outside the conference room, wringing her hands anxiously as she waited for them. “Hey Jane.”

“Hi,” Jane sniffled, launching herself forward to wrap Thor in a hug as soon as he cleared the door. “What happened in there?” she asked, scanning each of their faces as the room emptied. Fury and Maria herded Njord toward the exit to see him off.

“I said I didn’t want to marry Thor.” Claire said, her eyes following the group as they walked down the long hallway.

“So does that mean you’ll be marrying Loki instead?” Jane asked with a mix of hope and concern. Claire didn’t fault the scientist for the hopeful look in her brown eyes.

“It’s too soon to say,” Phil replied for Claire. “We made our counter-offer; now we wait for Odin’s reply.”

“How long will that take?” Jane asked Thor.

“Father will give us a reply in two weeks’ time.” He answered worriedly. “Claire clearly stated she would prefer to marry Loki; we have to hope that Father will honor that.”

“But doesn’t Loki have to agree also?”

“If Odin offers him a way out of prison he’ll probably take it. I know I would.” She added at Thor’s nod. Jane frowned, clearly unconvinced.

“But if he doesn’t…”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll back out. I might be a dick, but I’m not going to split you guys up.” Claire said. Jane launched herself at Claire, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she said wetly. “This has been a nightmare. It helps to know we have someone else on our side.”

“No problem,” Claire said, patting the scientist on the back. She’d be a mess if she were in Jane’s shoes. “I should probably go. Maybe get a jump start on packing.”

“Oh sure,” Jane released her. “How are you feeling about all this? I mean...I’ve never met the guy but I can’t imagine what he’ll be like-”

“I’d rather not dwell on it until Odin accepts the offer,” Claire cut her off. “I’ll see you guys later.” She was getting so drunk tonight.

~~~~

Asgard

Njord made haste to the throne room as soon as he arrived back in Asgard. The events of the meeting with the Lady Claire churned in his mind as he crossed the bifrost and entered the city, winding through the curving streets toward the looming golden palace.

She had a keen mind, this Midgardian. While others had more pleasant manners, they lacked Lady Claire’s strength and cunning, which he’d seen in spades at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s so-called ‘field day’. Njord still did not understand why they called it that- they had not competed in a field at all! Instead they had played supposed war games with children’s toys on an open pitch, held foot races, and held contests to see who could jump the furthest or climb the fastest. It was a mockery of the arduous training Asgardian soldiers underwent.

His personal feelings aside, he could not overlook Lady Claire’s results. Consistently, she outshone her competitors. Manners could be assimilated. Her sharp tongue could be bridled. But her drive could not be taught. Therefore, as much as it pained him, she was the best candidate.

The Einherjar outside the throne room allowed him entry immediately, and Njord stepped inside to deliver his report.

“Ah Njord!” Odin called as he walked toward the dais. “What news do you bring from Midgard?” he asked.

“My King,” Njord knelt before the throne, placing his fist over his heart. “I have done as you asked. I have selected a maiden to join the royal family.”

“Excellent. Rise, and tell me what you have learned.”

“The negotiations with Midgard are going well, but the maiden S.H.I.E.L.D. is offering is…most unusual, if I may speak plainly.” He rose at Odin’s gesture.

“In what way?” Odin asked interestedly.

“She has consented to the treaty, but was quite adamant in her refusal to marry Prince Thor.”

“Did you explain her other option?”

“I did, Sire, but it did not sway her.” Njord shook his head. Odin pursed his lips in thought, settling back against his throne.

“And what of her carriage? Her mannerisms?”

“While I was selecting candidates, S.H.I.E.L.D. conducted what they call a ‘field day’, in which I witnessed the candidates compete against each other. The maiden I have selected bested all of her competitors. She is a commoner and would greatly benefit from lessons in deportment, but she seems sure of herself and she is a decent, if not aggressive, negotiator. Where Jane Foster is weak, she is…forceful. Strong-willed. She seems convinced you will allow her to wed prince Loki.”

“Why is that?”

“In her words, you are getting two of the three provisions your proposal contains and as you are eager to strike a bargain, you will be hard pressed to argue over which son she weds.” Njord responded, dreading his king’s reaction. The mortal woman couldn’t know this, but her rash words could cost the entire treaty if they offended the Allfather. To his surprise, Odin barked out a laugh.

“Such insight for a mere mortal. I daresay she will make an excellent match for Loki. Come,” Odin got to his feet. “You will accompany me to the dungeons- the prince will surely want to know about his future bride.”

~~~~

The dungeons beneath the palace of Asgard were hidden away, desolate and deep underground. One had to traverse an intricate maze of corridors to even reach them- a defense mechanism in case of a prisoner escape. That alone used to be enough to prevent Odin from worrying- but with the imprisonment of the second prince, more security measures had been employed. Odin had woven his own magic into the construction of heavy doors- only those he allowed may gain entry and exit. Should the disgraced prince have been clever enough to escape his cell, he would not have been able to get far.

Odin had not seen the prince since he had been brought before him for sentencing. Loki had shown no remorse for his actions on Midgard; even daring to ask the queen if he’d made her proud.

His arrogance had radiated from him like poison, and so Odin had felt no remorse in sending him to the dungeons to while away his days.

Odin was wise to Frigga’s habit of sending a duplicate to see the prince, as well as books and whatever else she thought would appease him. Odin had no such compunctions. When a child misbehaved, you did not coddle the child. You corrected it.

Njord trailed after the Allfather as they descended beneath the palace, traversing the labyrinthine corridors to reach the prison. At last the entry point came into view, breaking up the monotony of the long, windowless corridors. Two guards stood sentry on each side of the heavy door, both men placing fists over their hearts in salute to their king as they approached.

The men opened the heavy door without question, allowing Odin and Njord to enter. A steep staircase led them deeper underground, where another pair of guards waited at the bottom. They too greeted their king with fists over hearts, one guard nodding reverently before turning on his heel to lead Odin to his destination.

After all, their was only one prisoner Odin would deign to visit himself.

Prisoners shout and jeer as Odin and Njord pass. Some throw themselves upon the effervescent walls, pounding upon it with their fists as they beg as for release, curse their existence, or both. One prisoner rips off his shoes and throws them, striking the wall directly where Odin’s head passed by.

“Something terrible must have happened to warrant a visit from you, Allfather,” Loki hissed as he spied Odin approaching his cell. “It’s been far too long, and yet, not long enough.”

“Your barbed words will not incense me, Loki. I come bearing an olive branch.” Odin said. Loki scoffed, snapping his book shut.

“What can you possibly have to offer me? If I was meant for the axe it would have been swung ages ago.”

“I am negotiating an alliance with Midgard’s forces. They have agreed to arrange a marriage per our traditions and I had originally planned for Thor-”

“Yes, Norns forbid Thor ever have to make a sacrifice,” Loki rolled his eyes as he set the book aside and pulled out a deck of cards. “So the golden son has refused…what of your treaty now?” he began to shuffle the deck, a disgusted sneer overtaking his features as he put two and two together. “This is why you’ve come- to entreat me to play husband!”

“Don’t flatter yourself so, Loki. Thor has accepted that he will wed the girl if I so decree. However…” Loki’s stomach turned sour as the Allfather trailed off. His grip on the cards tightened, the thin edge of the card slicing into the pad of his finger. “I have another idea entirely.”

“You would have me accept. Take part in your charade,” Loki dealt the cards, arranging them in piles and making an inverted triangle. “I still would prefer the axe.”

“I offer you a secondary proposition,” Odin held up his hand to silence his adopted son. “Accept your place in the alliance and I will release you from your prison. But your freedom will depend entirely upon the girl’s safety and wellbeing- should anything untoward happen to her, the alliance will be in ruins and you will return here for the remainder of your days.”

“That is hardly a choice,” Loki scoffed, turning away from Odin to begin his game. “Any fool would be inclined to do as you say for a chance at freedom.” he glances past Odin to the eavesdropping prisoner shouting he would do as Odin asked.

“But you are no fool, yes, I know,” Odin said flatly. “You would be restored to your title and place in our family as well.” Loki picked up a card and moved it to another stack, flipping the card beneath face up.

“How enticing.”

“Regardless of your feelings for me, I know you care for Frigga. She misses her son. Marry the girl and you would be free to see her as often as you wish.”

“You oversell yourself, Allfather,” Loki glared at him, bending the cards in his hand and flicking toward the barrier between them in anger. “You’re desperate to see this done.” he added accusingly.

“It is a small price to pay for the good of my kingdom,” Odin brushed off the insult. “And yes, I am. Think well on my offer, and make a decision quickly. I may not be so generous tomorrow.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I could announce a death sentence instead of a wedding, if that is truly your wish.”

“I would expect no less,” Loki smirked as he collected the cards he’d thrown from the floor of his cell. “And you, I suppose, are here to extoll my future bride’s virtues?”

“If my king wishes.” Njord replied.

“I do. I expect a decision by midday tomorrow.” Clapping Njord on the shoulder, Odin departed; leaving Njord under Loki’s hostile gaze. A haze of green surrounded the cards before they flew back into Loki’s outstretched hand.

“Well?” the fallen prince asked sharply, settling in to resume his game. “What of her? Is she stupid? Ugly? Disfigured? I imagine she isn’t much to look at if Thor refused her hand.”

“Neither, my lord. She is rather attractive…and carries herself well. She is a skilled warrior, though she does have a sharp tongue, and a bit of a temper.”

“And she refused Thor’s suit?” Njord hesitated- the Lady Claire had indeed refused Thor’s hand and forced the Allfather’s hand, but the official story was different.

“The Allfather thought His Majesty would serve better under the alliance,” Loki’s lip curled at the formal title. It only served to mock him in here. “The Lady Claire consented to the treaty, but argued that Lady Jane would be a far better candidate than herself. Perhaps she thought to spare them the pain of being separated.” Njord added nervously.

“Then she is a fool. Noble, but a fool nonetheless,” Loki sneered as he cleared a stack of cards and set them aside. He tapped a card on the table dismissively as he thought. “Or blind. I’ve never known a woman to refuse Thor. If that is the case, she must be damn near insufferable,” Loathe as he was to accept, Loki could admit that he was curious to meet the woman who rejected Thor. At the very least, she could be somewhat reliable for companionship. Norns knew it would be nice to be free of his wretched cell. To be in his own chambers again… “Leave me.”

“What shall I tell the Allfather?”

“He gave me until tomorrow to consider his inane suggestion, did he not? Tell him I am doing just that.” Loki spat, muttering darkly under his breath as he turned back to his game. Njord disappeared from his field of vision rather quickly, leaving Loki alone once again.

What in the nine was Odin thinking? Hadn’t arranged marriages fallen out of fashion eons ago? They still happened of course, but not nearly as often. So why this marriage, and why now?

Why him? Hadn’t he suffered enough in the name of his so-called family? He should refuse; Thor could bear the burden of responsibility for once.

The fact that this woman refused Thor however…it intrigued him. Did that mean she chose him over Thor? Loki could not remember anyone apart from Frigga actively choosing him for any reason. Perhaps it would be tolerable.

But he was loathe to agree, if only to spurn Odin. Five years he had languished in this damn cell without so much as a word and Odin expected him to jump at the first opportunity? Damn him.

~~~~

New York

Claire was startled awake by the loud ringing of her phone. She groaned angrily and reached behind her to fumble on her night stand for the offending device. She’d learned not to put the phone on the headboard. Nabbing it with her fingers, she brought it in front of her face and swiped to answer the call.

“Hello.” She said, her voice thick with sleep.

“We need you to come in,” Phil said in lieu of greeting. “The emissary from Asgard is back.”

“Aw man, Pouty-Face is back already? I was hoping he’d come down with a case of space amnesia but whatever. Fine,” Claire grumped, grunting in surprise when her phone fell from her hand and landed on her face. “’M’kay I’m up.” She mumbled.

“I’ll let him know you’re on your way,” Phil replied. “Hurry please.”

“Okay!” Claire hissed, throwing off her blankets and storming to her closet. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“I’ll send a car for you.” Phil ended the call and Claire tossed the phone on her bed. She rummaged through her clothes and threw on yesterday’s jeans with her Alice in Wonderland tee. She quickly brushed her hair and sprayed some perfume before grabbing her jacket and cane and heading downstairs to meet the car.

~~~~

“Oh good, you’re finally here.” Phil said when she stepped out of the elevator.

“It hasn’t even been twenty minutes yet!” Claire protested as he grabbed her by the arm and steered her toward Fury’s office. He ushered her in and followed, closing the door behind them. Njord and Fury sat facing each other across his desk, papers strewn across the surface.

“Welcome back Agent,” Fury said as she sat in the chair to the far left, leaving Phil to sit between her and the emissary. “Njord and I were just discussing the final details of the treaty.”

“Super. What are they?”

“Firstly, it will please you to know that my king has agreed to your terms,” Njord said. “Prince Loki has agreed to the alliance as well.”

“I figured he would; everybody loves a get-out-of-jail-free card.” Njord looked at her quizzically.

“I don’t know what that means, my lady.” he said after a beat.

“Never mind,” Claire replied with a wave of her hand. “What else?”

“The Allfather has put forth a protection clause on your behalf, which we took the liberty of adding to the treaty. Prince Loki’s freedom will depend entirely upon your health and safety.”

“So if he puts hands to her, the alliance would be over?” Phil asked.

“The alliance would be ended and Prince Loki would return to prison for the remainder of his life.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Claire said. “I’m assuming that’s only in case of irreparable damage?”

“Claire!” Phil hissed.

“What? It’s a valid question,” Claire hissed back. “I just want clarification before I throw hands.”

“Don’t start please-”

“Do we need to work out a visitation clause or a schedule?” Fury asked, diverting attention from Claire’s ethical dilemma. “I’m sure Claire would want to come back and Phil would like to visit her in Asgard as well.”

“I don’t believe that is something the Allfather has considered,” Njord replied. “But this can easily be arranged, do not worry. Our seers have selected a date for the ceremony.”

“Already?” Phil asked. “When is it?”

“As Lady Claire will be permanently relocating to Asgard, the Allfather thought a fortnight would be enough time for her to pack her belongings.”

“Dude I’m right here; can you maybe not talk about me like I’m not?” Claire said combatively.

“My apologies, Lady Claire.”

“Sure. So when is the ceremony? Am I traveling to Asgard and then boom I’m married?”

“The ceremony itself will take place in six weeks. You will have two weeks to prepare your things for travel, and one month in Asgard to make all of your preparations and familiarize yourself with the palace and your duties.”

“And she’ll have her own room until the wedding?” Phil asked.

“Yes of course,” Njord nodded. “All the necessary arrangements shall be made for your accommodations, Lady Claire.”

“And what about Loki?” Claire blurted. “I get to meet him before the wedding, right?”

“You will get to meet your betrothed prior to the ceremony, Lady Claire. You will be chaperoned until afterward, upon which time the marriage will be consummated.”

“Right.” The tiny gouge in Fury's desk was suddenly very fascinating.

“It is tradition that the consummation is witnessed-”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Claire shouted. “What is this, the Iron Age?!”

“Peace, Lady Claire. You will be pleased to know that the Allfather has agreed to forego the tradition. His Majesty Prince Loki shares your views on the practice.”

“Well thank god for small miracles,” Claire muttered angrily. “So now what?”

“I shall return in two weeks’ time to collect you and your things. I require your signature on this missive. This is not the treaty itself, but your pledge to fulfill the provisions which the Allfather and your government have agreed to.” Njord produced an honest-to-god scroll and handed it to her. Claire ran her thumb over the actual wax seal and unfurled it.

The writing was fancy, sloped cursive that Claire could barely read. Down at the bottom there was another wax seal and a scribble of ‘Odin Allfather’. Above that were two signature lines. One was blank and awaiting her signature. The other bore the scrawling, looping signature of her future husband.

Loki Odinson.

The scrape of glass caught Claire’s attention and she looked up from the scroll to see Njord had slid an inkwell over to her. He held out a quill for her to take. Claire stared at the quill for a moment before reaching out to take it. She dipped the quill into the ink and held it above the paper, unable to make herself sign it.

This shouldn’t be hard. She was getting what she wanted. Thor and Jane could have a happy life together now. She was marrying Thor’s hot, crazy brother.

This is what she wanted.

When Claire made a decision, she committed.

“Lady Claire?” Njord asked. A drop of ink had fallen onto the parchment and was beginning to dry. Claire took a deep breath, set the quill to parchment, and signed her name. She gave the quill and parchment back to Njord, watching as he sprinkled powder onto the scroll to dry the ink. The inkwell was capped and put away along with the quill. The scroll was rolled back up and vanished into the bag at Njord’s side.

“I do hate to rush off, but I must return to Asgard. There is much to be done before your arrival.”

“Okay,” Claire said quietly. Her entire body was trembling and a heavy pit of dread was roiling in her stomach. She had just signed away her entire life to make Jane and Thor happy; to keep her realm safe. She was trying desperately to focus on how satisfying it was to stick it to Njord and his smug stupid face, but she wanted to run out of the room and cry. “Great.”

“Excellent. I shall see you all in a fortnight.” Njord said cheerfully. He left quickly with Maria and Fury, leaving Claire alone with Phil.

“Are you okay?”

“Great.” Claire said hollowly, wrapping her arms around herself. Phil leaned over the table, putting a hand on her arm.

“I’ll help you pack. It’ll be alright.”

“FUCK!” Claire shouted after a moment; brutally, painfully aware of how drastically her life was about to change. “I’m such an idiot.”

#covenant #loki fic #loki x ofc #idiots in love

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blueberrybladelemonade · 3 months

Text

Colors of Familiarity

Summary: You're waiting for your boyfriend. Unfortunately some loser takes it upon themselves to flirt with you in the meantime.

Contains: Being UNfashionbly late, Bad pickup lines, Repeated use of cosmetics.

Another Pepperman x Reader fic

Inspired by my friend @pervertedindividual and this silly doodle :3

You eyes drift lazily down to your watch. Where the hell is he? A frown tugs at your lips. It had been far passed when Pepperman had told you to meet him here. This was unlike him. You scan your surroundings once more, hoping to spot a flash of red anywhere. Phil was always on time.

As twenty minutes turned to thirty you pull out your phone. The name "Precious Pepper" flashes across the screen as you attempt to call. Worry invades your thoughts as you hear the voicemail play. Was he ok?

Footsteps started out faint but grew louder as someone approached nearby. If he doesn't get here in the next ten- Your thoughts were interrupted by a cough. As you glance to the side you realize a person is standing beside you. You quirk an eyebrow as his gaze remains locked onto you.

"Can I help you?" You ask, unable to keep the irritation from your voice, the person was much closer than you'd have liked.

His expression brightened as he take another step closer to be right next to you. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again"?

"Go ahead. I need to practice hitting a moving target." You deadpan taking a small sidestep away. As they drew nearer again you cast a small sideways glare. "I have a boyfriend".

You feel your body get warmer as anger begins to course through your veins.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asks, undeterred. For a briefly moment you daydream about having karate skills and ripping this loser's lungs out as that smug expression remains plastered onto their stupid face.

In response roll your eyes. You desperately wishing to be somewhere, anywhere, else right now. "I'd rather just have the money". Pulling out your phone you busy yourself with typing a message to Pepperman, hoping this loser would get bored and leave.

Deep breaths. Phil told you to meet him here forty three minutes ago. He's still not here. You feel your eye twitch as the person continued trying to get your attention. That's it. You're going to do it.

"Are you an orphanage? Because I want to give-" the stranger lets out a scream as a red blur intercepts you both. With glee you watch as he careens through the air straight into the bushes.

"Oh thank god!" You sigh in exasperation. "I was about to knock his ass out"!

"Apologies my Y/N" Pepperman raises a hand to caress your cheek with his thumb. He cups your face gently, but firmly, looking you in the eyes. "I'm here now. It's alright".

"Why were you so late?" You whine.

"Something kept me." His face fell "I hadn't planned to be so late. I do understand if you do not wish to go on our planned date".

"Of course I want to." You take his hand in yours, placing a kiss to the back of his hand. After that, you watched his face light right back up.

"Now then? Shall we go"?

You nod enthusiastically, weaving his hand with yours as you skip across the sidewalk. "So where ARE we going"? Typically your dates consisted of going to museums, cafes, or creating art projects together.

"You'll see my dear. I have sonething new in mind. But first-" you let out a surprised yelp as your feet no longer touched the ground. In a fluid motion Pepperman scooped you up, carrying you in his arms.

"You are amazing, and I love that I get to be with you." He whispers, kissing the top of your head. Pepperman's eyes widened as your forehead now had a bright red splotch.

"What?" You tilt your head up at him curiously.

"N-nothing." He stammered, moving his arms down and -in turn- pulling you just a tiny bit further from his face. You shoot Pepperman a dubious squint. He chuckled nervously. "Aha...the weather is excellent for being outdoors today, don't you think"?

Please don't stare. Oh goodness does Y/N see it? I thought I had covered it quite well.

You hum happily in his arms, making Pepperman blink and look down at you. "It sure is! Are we going to be outside today"?

He holds you a little tighter and chuckles lightly. "Perhaps so my dear. But I'll give you a single hint to where we are going." He carefully leant forward and whispered into your ear. He returned your grin as your eyes widened and smiled brightly up at him. You let out a small whoop, not caring that a few people looked in your direction. Today was going to be great.

* * * * *

Earlier that day

"No no no! You can still see it"! Pepperman groans, hurriedly grabbing another face towel and wiping the makeup off. How many times had he done this now? Five? He lost track as his heart was thudding in panic as his eyes darted to the clock from the mirror.

He was late. UNfashionbly so. Pepperman dried his face before carelessly tossing the fabric to the side.

It was a race to get ready and Pepperman was losing. Assorted red hues speckled the counter top as rushed strokes met his skin. Eyes constantly were meeting the clock throughout as he applied and blended the colors. Was this color too dark? This one was too light and you can still see those dogged blemishes

Why did he have to get a nasty bout of pepper acne the day of your date?

From the other room his phone was ringing loudly. Drat. That must be Y/N. He looked down at his hands which were smudged with shades of red. Guilt etched into his face, if he answered then there would be an even bigger mess to clean.

Hold on my dear Y/N, I'm on my way. Momentarily.

At last Pepperman was ready. He may be thirty minutes late but every spot was successfully covered. Hurriedly he shoved a few items into his bag and quickly made his way out the door, hoping you wouldn't be too upset.

#pizza tower #pizza tower x reader #pizza tower fanfic #pepperman x reader #phil pepperman #🫐bladezfics

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wireddless · 2 years

Text

Do NOT Touch (Phil Callahan x Reader)

Pairing: Phil Callahan/Reader

Word count: 2974

Warnings: Smut and swearing, very tame.

Authors Note: I actually haven’t written in a hard minute, given a recent breakup, so this is definitely a little bit rushed. It’s not my finest work, but it’s my baby. I’ve been wanting to fuck this man since i was 14. I’m so horny for him guys😭😭.

He was always working.

It made sense. After Chief Hopper’s untimely passing in the mall fire, the station had undergone quite a few changes. Scheduling, new hires, promotions, Phil had a lot on his plate, it’s not like you didn’t understand.

But he was barely home anymore. Your recent engagement was becoming less and less recent, and other than the pictures of you two around the house, you hardly saw his face anymore. Phil wasn’t cheating. He’s not a cheater. He practically worships you. And you still would visit him during slow shifts down at the station.

Today was not slow however. Phil called home again around 8:00 to explain he had to pick up another late shift, investigating the recent string of murders.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You could hear his frown through the phone.

“Don’t worry, baby, it’s alright!” Phil often was the recipient of this kind of comfort from you, but you both knew how not alright it actually was. “I love you, and I’ll see you soon, probably another two hours, I know it.”

“I love you too, baby.” Phil sighed. “I promise this will stop happening as soon as I can get it to. I’ll see you soon, sweetie.” The buzzing tone on the other line informed you that he set the phone back into the receiver.

This was the last straw for you.

You set the phone back and walked away, your feet leading you to the shared bedroom. Fingers wrapped around the string hanging from the closet ceiling to turn on the light. It was a bit of a mess, but certainly not as terrible as it has been. A sigh exited your lips as you turned around, attempting to find it.

“Where are you?” Slipped out from under your breath, your eyes darting around until you saw it on the top shelf, illuminated by the yellow light, and covered in a thin layer of dust. Your lips tugged into a tight smile as you stood on your toes to reach it.

Carefully, using your other hand to grip the shelf for balance, you pulled the thin brown paper package towards you with your fingers, until you wrapped your hand around it.

Phil; do NOT touch!!!! ;)

Your handwriting sprawled across it, surrounded by little stars and hearts. Originally, you meant it as a wedding present, but you could always find something new. You tugged on the light string and shut the closet door behind you, tossing the package on the bed. You already made your dinner for two, so you would set to putting it into the tupperware and then the fridge, before washing the dishes, and trying to clean up around the house.

The clock his mother gifted you chimed for the second time, as it did every hour. Ten O’clock. Quickly, you shut off all but the bathroom light, small thumps echoed through the house as you rushed into the bedroom, ripping open the package with care, sure not to rip the expensive material inside.

Sheer white stockings with delicate lace at the very top, an unpadded white bra, translucent but not quite sheer, with strong white lining and small white leaves embroidered around the edges, an almost sheer white bikini bottom, to match the top, and the most comfortable light pink satin robe, with watercolor style roses decorating it.

It was one hell of a wedding present, you’d admit, and it’d be quite hard to live up to this, but it was time to bring out the big guns. You hadn’t been laid in a week, and you would be sure to break that streak tonight, work be damned. Victoria’s Secret would be your new secret weapon.

As you finished throwing the robe over the wonderful little getup, you heard his cruiser pull into the driveway. Sneaking over to the door, you hid next to it, sure to be behind it when it opened. You memorized his routine of getting home to a T, and your plan had been set in motion.

The telltale jingle of keys warned you to quiet and slow your breathing. The door creaked open and his boots thudded on the floor as he shut the door, took his hat off, and hung it up. Small steps were taken behind him, before hands snaked around and pulled his glasses off. Phil jumped before turning around and pinning his supposed attacker to the door with his forearm, the other reaching for his standard issue firearm.

He immediately recognized his mistake when he felt hair brush over his fingers, and an all too recognizable laugh echoed through his head.

“This is new!” Your heart was thumping against your chest, but your grin stretched so wide your cheeks would hurt soon.

“Jesus Christ, [Y/n]!” Phil’s voice cracked a little, adorable. “I thought someone broke in, oh god!” Without removing his forearm, he reached down and captured your lips in a deep kiss, his other hand leaving his holster to cup your cheek. His mustache hairs tickled above your lips as he pressed slightly harder against you. “I missed you so much today, you wouldn’t believe how awful it was.” He murmured between kisses. “Is cuffing you the only way to keep you from doing your best to kill me?”

Phil pulled away to make eye contact, his eyes finally adjusting to the dark. A deep hum made his chest vibrate as he saw what you were wearing.

“It might be.” Were the only words you responded with. His face lit up with a giddy smile, his hand leaving your face to caress down your chest, while the other slid up into your hair, gripping tightly. His lips parted slightly, giving you a view of his front two teeth.

“I love you so much.” He retracted his hand from your chest, before leading you to the bedroom. He slightly shoved you along, until he shut the door behind him. “Sit.” Phil brought you to the edge of the bed, pulling you down. He crouched in front of you, looking up and making eye contact with puppy dog eyes. His glasses slipped from your fingers and he caught them, setting them on the nightstand.

His hands slowly slid up your thighs, admiring the lace, before wrapping his arms around your hips. He tucked his head down and rested it in your lap, allowing himself to close his eyes and take a few relaxing breaths. A gentle hand laced itself in his hair, before petting it with such love and adoration, that he could hold himself there forever. His lips pressed into your thighs, leaving a trail down to your knees, and then slowly back up, biting down the further inward he got.

Your head fell backwards, allowing him to continue, his fluffy hair still in your hand. You heard him hum quietly, before pulling away and standing abruptly. His hand found your chin, making you look at him.

“I’m home, not two seconds, and I can’t even take off my damn boots because you insist on giving me a heart attack.” Phil playfully looked into your eyes before sitting next to you, reaching down to undo the laces and pull them off. Once his boots were off, his fingers reached up to undo his tie, before you smacked them away with a quick “uh uh.”

His chuckled warmed your heart as you loosened his tie, and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the side. Your eyes met and you stared at each other for a second, before glancing at each other’s lips. You pulled Phil in, his hands finding your shoulders as you kissed him. Slowly, he slid the robe down your arms with shaking hands. He always seemed to get so nervous with you, as if it was the first time all over again.

Once the robe fell off and hit the floor, his hands gripped your waist, squeezing tightly as your fingers undid the buttons to his uniform. As you undid the bottom button, your pinky finger hooked into his belt loop, heading to undo that as well, before he quickly grabbed your hands and pulled them away, using them as leverage to pin you to the bed.

“Don’t think I’m letting you have all the fun, you little minx.” His eyes roamed your body, enjoying the artwork splayed out beneath him. Phil smiled at you, before scooting you up to rest your head in the pillows. His hands trailed up your body, before pulling one of his pairs of cuffs out. “Hold still, baby.”

Despite what his actions foreshadowed, his words and movements were gentle. He cuffed your left hand first, then the right, after he pulled the small chain around the bedframe first. He stood from the bed, leaving you high and dry. He walked around the bed, shrugging his uniform shirt off, and unhooking the utility belt, sure to snag the keys to his cuffs, setting them on the nightstand. His eyes wandered over to your body, looking at the way you tried to hide your knees and thighs rubbing together in anticipation.

“What am I going to do with you?” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he tried figuring out how to approach this situation. You chimed in, all too happy to tell him what you wanted.

“Well for one you could get your ass over here and let me touch you already.” Phil chuckled at your response, undoing his regular belt, and soon his pants.

“You know, patience is a virtue.” He tugged his shirt over his head as he stepped out of his black pants.

“Phil-“ Your whine was cut off.

“Shut it! You’ll get what you want, but we’re still on my time here.” And you did shut it. Your lips pressed together after releasing an impatient huff. Phil’s legs shuffled a little as he took his socks off with his feet.

The bed dipped as his knees fell into it and he crawled over you. His left hand trailed up your body, starting just below your knee, slowly working its way up, enjoying the stockings, caressing your inner thigh, fingers barely brushing over your underwear, before dragging his flat palm up your stomach to grope you.

“When did you get this little number?” Phil was referencing the lingerie, his fingers digging into your skin, his lips finding your neck, leaving numerous love bites, and less than gentle kisses.

“A while ago, on that trip we took to Indianapolis.” You struggled not to stumble and stutter over your words as he left a particularly harsh bite on your jaw, before settling with marking around your earlobe. You only got a small hum in response, as his hand moved from your breast, back down your stomach.

His fingertips dipped under the hem of your panties, but went no further. Phil left a trail of kisses from your ear to your forehead, then down to the tip of your nose. An almost childlike smile decorated his face as gazed down at you, before pressing his lips against yours. As his lips found yours, his fingers moved lower, still teasingly slow.

Your hips bucked up, desperate for more stimulation than what he would give you. He smiled into the kiss before allowing his hand to move further. His fingers delved into your folds, gathering the slick mess, massaging around until one found your clit. He was always incredibly gentle, but still firm enough to leave you squirming beneath him.

He caught your moans with his mouth as his fingers massaged you. After a moment, however, they moved lower, exploring you like it was the first time. As he pulled out of the kiss, he pushed a finger in, enjoying the slightly louder inhale that couldn’t quite be counted as a gasp. Slowly, it moved in and out, spreading your wetness around, before adding another finger.

He tilted his chin up with his mouth barely hanging open, beaming down at you. You felt him scoop his fingers inside you, massaging the sensitive rough patch along your walls. Your eyes shut and rolled to the back of your head as a shaky moan escaped your chest. This was exactly what you needed.

Phil gauged his next moves by your reactions, deciding it was time to pick up his pace a little. As his fingers sped up, his hips began rocking gently against yours, needing a little friction to his hardening length. He dipped his head down and placed gentle kisses along your collarbone, before sucking a fat hickey into your skin. Call him crazy, but he’d leave your whole chest purple if he could.

Small moans were tearing their way through your throat with even the smallest movements from him, getting him even more riled up over the sight of you so weak and helpless for him. He enjoyed tightening that familiar coil in your stomach, and watching you struggle to push into his movements. The feeling was so nice after two weeks without being able to have the time or energy to touch each other, tears sprung to your eyes.

The coil grew tighter and tighter, but at an agonizing pace, as he pulled his fingers from inside you to rapidly massage your clit. Your moans grew louder, and harder to contain as the coil in your stomach became wound too tight, releasing with a shock. You came on his fingers with a shaking cry. Bucking your hips against his fingers, you rode through the orgasm.

Once your hips finally slowed, Phil shimmied out of his boxers and crawled on top of you, bringing his fingers up to your lips and letting you take them in your mouth, sucking them clean. He brought his hand back down to his hardened length, moving his hand up and down as he gazed down at your figure, still cuffed to the bed frame.

He brought his other hand below his mouth, spitting in it and rubbing it onto his cock. His fingers gently moved your panties to the side, before leaning over you, rubbing the head of his cock over your entrance. He waited for your nod of approval before pushing in slowly, understanding how sensitive you must have still been.

He filled you up with a moan, scooping one of his arms beneath your back, and the other cupping your cheek as you reached up to kiss him. Small amounts of saliva would sneak from your mouths into his mustache, chafing your lip, but you didn’t mind all that much, finally being able to have sex with him again and all that.

After a second of stillness, Phil’s hips moved, rocking into you. His lips pulled away from yours, much to your protest, as he pushed his face into your neck. His hair rubbed against your face and under your nose, flooding your senses with his musk. His chest hair scratched your chest, as his thrusts quickened, skin slapping against skin.

His gasps and moans were muffled by your skin, with yours however being the main orchestrated piece, filling the room with audio proof that you were finally getting what you wanted. Every thrust into you was one you were beyond thankful for. Phil's body slowly peeled off of yours, slowing his pace only to unwrap himself from your legs, and to bring them over his shoulders, letting him push deeper still.

You cried out, a mixture of shock and pleasure as he brushed your cervix. The thin material of your stockings tickled his neck, helping urge the moans from him. One hand gripped your hip, the other your ankle, which he turned his head to gently kiss. It was clear he was trying to keep his composure, but was struggling, drunk from the pleasure.

His pace sped up, becoming more sloppy as it did. You bucked your hips up to allow for more friction, your moans becoming more frequent.

“Phil-!” You cut yourself off with a gasp. “Please I- I need to touch you.” You desperate tugs on the cuffs further proved your statement, and he was sympathetic, but wasn’t going back on his plan.

“No can do, princess,” His head fell back momentarily, still holding out. Phil’s hand fell from your ankle down to your cunt, finding your swollen bud with the pad of his thumb. Your walls tightened around him as he massaged delicate circles onto your clit, tears sprung to your eyes, overwhelmed from the pleasure.

Your walls, along with your moans dragged him closer to the edge. When your hips bucked up again, the rope inside him snapped, and he came inside you with a gasp. His hips stuttered and his movements became more sloppy, before slowing to a halt eventually. He moved his hands as he pulled out, letting your legs come down to rest on the bed.

Phil’s eyes wandered your body with such admiration, overwhelmed by your divine figure. His skin stuck to yours as he reached down to kiss you again. You felt the remainder of his arousal drip out of your folds, likely to leave a wet spot in a minute. You dragged your lips from his with reluctance.

“Phil, could you please uncuff me?” He stared at you, confused for a second, before realizing.

“Oh shit, right!” Phil leaned over and snagged the keys off of the nightstand, before reaching up and unlocking them. You brought your arms down and around him, letting one play with his hair as he set the cuffs and keys back on the nightstand. The moment his arm moved back towards you, your arms tightly wrapped around him, running up and down his sweat soaked skin.

Phil attempted to roll over, but your arms jailed him. “Don’t think for a second I’m letting you get away from me, mister.”

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phanfictioncatalogue · 1 month

Text

Drabble (11) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten

A Piece of Me (ao3) - Sinninghowlter

Summary: Dan is obsessed with Polaroids. Phil loves kissing Dan.

a snapshot (ao3) - yonpote

Summary: phil takes a photo

Aqua-scaping (ao3) - R3ad3r1

Summary: Dan has a new hobby, Phil tries to be a responsible adult.

can i call you tonight? (ao3) - oihesmine

Summary: texts between long distance d&p

can't wait for you to be back (ao3) - okaydoomer

Summary: Dan is on tour and they miss each other so much.

Continents Apartment (ao3) - floweretfairies

Summary: Dan’s stroking his cock, reaching for his phone. He needed his man, but they were continents apart.

costume (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Phil normally puts on a costume. But not today.

Cream on Cream on Cream (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Phil walks out of the shower in all his glory and Dan has a little surprise in store for him.

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (ao3) - talentisntgenius

Summary: Dan leaves and Phil trusts he'll come back.

Drips Through (ao3) - artbabe

Summary: Dan goes outside to smoke at a party. Phil joins him.

finally (ao3) - bloodyscarab

Summary: finally, you've come along

the way i feel about you, just can't be wrong

First Day (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: Dan goes back to uni

home is such a lonely place without you (ao3) - nivi_chip

Summary: Phil during the US leg, Dan finally coming home. Fluff ensues.

Honeybee (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: Dan sings a sweet silly song to Phil in the kitchen.

hotter than i've ever been (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Halloween is strong drinks and a balmy late night breeze and Dan ripping his fishnets then laughing until he cries about it.

I Like my Men How I Like my Gin and Tonic (ao3) - BREAD2000yeet

Summary: Dan gives a C- blowjob and an receives an A+ handjob emo boys kissing vibes they r in luvv

I'd like to hang out with you (for my whole life) (ao3) - bunnyslipper

Summary: Mornings in the forever home (featuring the golden pig)

Injured and Afraid (ao3) - tol_but_smol

Summary: Dan and Phil and their hiking adventures

Jealousy, Jealousy (ao3) - thestreaklives

Summary: Phil gets a gift from a coworker and Dan is having a hard time with it.

Jumping On the Bandwagon Isn’t So Bad (ao3) - ticklishraspberries

Summary: Dan decides to jump on the ‘boys in crop tops’ trend.

leave me alone (ao3) - leebasii

Summary: sometimes all you gotta do is apologise

Let Me Help (ao3) - prettyelephant

Summary: Phil gets a cat hair in his eye while shooting for the calendar so naturally Dan helps him get it out.

moon boy, moon face and moon butt: a trilogy of sorts (ao3) - cloud-gays (wind_brewed)

Summary: Moon, that's what Phil is to Dan. Or something like that.

Also called: I can't get over how Dan's nickname for Phil is 'moon'. Maybe it isn't, but.

oh, he's got me going (ao3) - loveslabourlost

Summary: Everything in Phil's body is thicker than in Dan's.

phone calls (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: dan calls phil whilst on tour in america with some plans for christmas

repeats and replays (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: phil's had a crush on his coworker dan for way too long. he's never had the nerve to ask him out, as much as he'd like to, but their friendship is good as it is.

one day, though, dan slips up mid conversation, and everything changes

Scars (ao3) - jerseker

Summary: Dan thought filming in his hometown would be harder.

the old familiar rhythms (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: There will be dozens of good days in the weeks to come, but not many of them will end in quiet.

(piano, summer 2022)

The Revival Aftermath (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: The gaming channel makes a comeback.

time and place (ao3) - cloud-gays (wind_brewed)

Summary: Kisses.

Also called: I'm a broken man and my friends want me to call this Butter Chicken. Help me.

to be your (distant) lover (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: There is a distance and Dan wants to fill it.

Too much? (ao3) - GayFandomNerd

Summary: A conversation about how much they’ve been sharing with their fans

Unpainted Canvas (ao3) - hygge

Summary: When Dan looked at Phil, he saw art… Phil was gorgeous, an absolute masterpiece. Dan didn’t even compare.

Velvet touch (ao3) - Kavat

Summary: Dan and Phil are going to a film premier for the first time in years.

why do i feel fine? (ao3) - bessonschild

Summary: Dan and Phil on their balcony. He's finally feeling better.

you can see it with the lights out (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Somehow it’s taken Dan until he got to Japan, but here it’s caught up with him, hit him like a freight train. Phil keeps laughing at him, showing him pictures on his phone of Dan’s face softened by it, posture loosened by it.

You Send Me (ao3) - Portia331

Summary: A reflection on relationship growth and how it feels.

#phan #phanfictioncatalogue #phanfic #phanfiction #dan and phil #masterlists #drabble #drabble masterlist

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behrjbehr · 1 year

Text

Sbi au where Philza is a human who specialises in destroying/relocating the supernatural. He’s killed many monsters and demons and adopted two of his own. One late night he get a phone call. The women is screaming about her baby or something? Phil can’t quite make it out.

He lets his wife know that he has to go on call and to watch the boys. As he arrives at the house, there is a pale, shaking woman sitting on the porch steps. He ignores her and enters.

It’s eerily quiet. His footsteps causing the floor to creak as he makes his way though the rooms.

He pauses at the door to a child’s room.

He opens to door and gasps.

Blood red feathers cover the carpet. Scratch’s adorn every wall. And toys lay broken and discarded.

Phil picks up a feather and examines it. It’s a beautiful colour. Bright red and it’s well formed, but damaged. As if someone had ripped it out.

A small sound draws his attention to the cupboard in the corner of the room. A small, quiet squeak. Much like that of a tiny kitten.

He pulls it open and stares down at the thing bundled up in the shirts and jackets.

A crying ball of blood red feathers, the size of a toddler.

A child.

#sbi au #sleepy bois inc #Tommy’s a griffin hybrid #au’s from the bird app

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mathanlin · 10 months

Text

Hero AU where hero!Tommy’s the secret fourth member of SBI.

Secret, because that’s his entire purpose. With his shapeshifting ability, he can masquerade as any of the other three heroes, making public appearances when they can’t.

Until he’s captured.

It’s Wilbur’s face he’s using, Siren’s outfit he’s wearing.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t lend him a bit of courage as a villain looms over him, smiling darkly.

“Oh, we got the little one.”

‘Little.’ They have no idea how right they are.

For all they know, Wilbur’s the youngest. No one knows about Tommy, a new hero hurried through training & right into the highest ranking hero’s team.

He’s important, even if he’s nothing more than backup.

But they’ll still come for him.

Tommy clings to that hope. Maybe the proof-of-life photo of ‘Wilbur’s’ face, cut & bruised, is sobering. Maybe the ransom the villains are demanding is worth a tool like Tommy.

Maybe hearing his voice through the phone is enough.

“Siren?”

Tommy leans closer to the phone the villain’s shoved beside his ear.

He’s playing a role. He’s Wilbur, son of the Angel. He’s supposed to be strong, tough, and not afraid of anything.

But he still whispers, “Dad?”

That’s all he gets to say.

The phone’s yanked away, taking Phil’s voice with it.

And the villain spits, “Last chance. You want your kid, pay up. I’m done waiting.”

A week.

That’s how long it’s been. How long the villain’s taken his anger out on Tommy, how long Tommy’s been able to keep his disguise up.

But hearing the villain rip Phil’s voice away is the last straw.

Tommy’s last shreds of bravado crumble.

So does his illusion.

Silence. Tommy trembles as the villain appraises him, icy smile slowly growing.

“Would you look at that.”

Tommy tries to curl up. The bindings stop him, and he can only turn his face — his *true* face — away.

The villain hums, “I see. That’s why they’re taking so long.”

“What?”

Tommy’s whisper is his own. He can’t even cling to Wilbur’s voice anymore.

“Your heroes,” the villain murmurs. “I was wondering why they’d stopped looking for you.”

“No. They— you’re lying,” Tommy chokes out. “They—”

“Shifters aren’t cheap,” the villain interrupts, tilting their head. “But they’ll find another, won’t they?”

And even if he could speak… Tommy can’t say no.

He’d never been worth the cost. He’d been clingy. Annoying. He can’t act, can’t even pretend to be brave.

“Well.” The villain steps closer, laughing as Tommy cowers. “If they can’t find a use for you, I suppose I will.”

It should be terrifying. And it is.

But the hopelessness is worse.

*I was wondering why they'd stopped looking for you.*

If anything’s going to kill Tommy, it’s that. Not the interrogations, the blows, or even the mocking taunts.

It’s being left behind.

And the longer he waits, the more likely it seems that’ll be his fate.

#sbi #sbi au #dsmp #dsmp au #mcyt #threadfic

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songmingisthighs · 2 years

Text

Algedonic

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

<< previous | masterlist | next >>

ch. lxxx - or else

soulmate!yunho × reader, wooyoung × reader

fated and marked, soulmates are supposed to be your destiny. you are connected to him by his heart and him to yours. but despite the cosmic or even divine intervention, you felt that he is not wholly yours. why is destiny so cruel to you?

After answering Mingi's text, Yunho went back to sitting stiffly, unsure how to talk. He felt out of place, being the only one in a business formal outfit, a dress shirt with a couple of its buttons unbuttoned and navy slacks, he was glad that he was able to Wooyoung was wearing a light grey hoodie with ripped jeans while you wore a dress and a sweater that according to him made you look like a goddess.

"So..." You began, tapping your nails on the table, "Who was that?" you asked, trying to start a conversation. Yunho looked down at his phone for a bit at your question, he hadn't expected for you to talk to him so he needed to take a moment to process your question. "O- Oh, that... Was Mingi, he had an issue and he's asking me for help so I told him that I'll help after this," Wooyoung leaned onto the table and looked at Yunho challengingly, "You sure you don't have to deal with that now, pretty boy? We'd be glad to send you off to help your little friend," he said, putting emphasis on the word 'we' as if to make a show that you and he are together. Yunho's eyes widened in surprise as he had not expected Wooyoung to be so brazen.

Thankfully you stepped forward, "Wooyoung, please be nice," you scolded, frowning at Wooyoung, "I asked you both to meet up here so you guys can talk, alright? It doesn't have to be meaningful, no one has to tell a secret or reveal their childhood trauma, but please for the sake of not just me but also my sanity, play nice," you told them before getting out of your chair to the cafe's counter to order something.

You were already feeling weird for asking them to come to meet each other. No one in their right mind would ask the two guys they are having romantic feelings for to meet and talk. Who does that? But then again, your situation is a completely unique one. Pinned between a possible love interest and the reconciliation ex with a soulmate bond? Not even Dr Phil, Steve Harvey, or Oprah has a way out of this craziness.

Looking back slightly as you walked away, you saw them both looking at you with sad looks in their eyes. In your mind, they looked like sad puppies. You don't like the looks on their faces, but you wanted them to at least be civil during this conversation. Heck, you don't even have the mental capacity to make a decision in the first place, what if this plan backfired on you? Are you going to be able to handle two snippy men as you're pressed to make one of the biggest decisions in your life? Should you just elope with Beomgyu now?

Yunho sighed when he watched you turn your back to speak to the cashier, "She's right," he turned to face Wooyoung, "We should... Let our personal feelings aside, okay? This thing... It must've been hard on (y/n) as it is and as much as I want to not acknowledge your existence so I can bitterly resent your existence, I know you've been the best thing to happen to her in recent times," he said bluntly, surprising Wooyoung who had thought Yunho would've cussed him or call him a homewrecker or something.

Nodding, Wooyoung realized that although he hated him, Wooyoung agreed with him. "Yeah, and I mean with the many jabs I throw at you," "The many what?" "(y/n) kept defending you so even though you fucked up so bad with her, she still loves you because she's just that kind of a person, I guess," he sighed out. Yunho nodded and waited because it seemed like Wooyoung still has something to say. They both stared at each other for a bit before Wooyoung averted his gaze and grumbled out in a low voice that he hoped Yunho heard but also don't hear, "And I guess I see a part of myself that I resented so much in you,"

Yunho couldn't help but chuckle at him which cause Wooyoung to snap his head and glare at the taller man, "Hey, don't mock me! You might be taller than me, but I'm equipped with medical knowledge that allows me to kill you without getting any suspicions on me," he growled. Though he sounded serious, Yunho didn't buy into his threat, instead grinning as he leaned back into his chair, "I mean... Don't you have to be able to reach my neck first in order for you to be able to do things to me?" he teased. "Oh, as if I wouldn't be able to knock your kneecaps off," Wooyoung scoffed. At his comment, Yunho raised an eyebrow, "Knock my kneecaps off? What are we, video game characters?"

Wooyoung's ears perked at the mention of video games and he raised an eyebrow at Yunho suspiciously, "What do you know about video games, pretty boy?" he asked, curious. Yunho shrugged at him, "Plenty, I guess? I play computer games too," and Wooyoung rolled his eyes at that, "Tetris doesn't count," he snarked. Laughing, Yunho waved his hand in front of him, "No! Of course not Tetris! I play stuff like LOL, Fallout, and Cyberpunk! I was super addicted to RPG shooter games in high school and college and I'm still playing them whenever I have the chance to,"

Almost immediately, Wooyoung's eyes sparkled and soon a hearty discussion about games ensued between both men.

By the time you got back with the drinks you ordered for yourself and them, they were both grinning and talking excitedly with each other. The scene was like as if they were long-time friends, telling each other about their interests and hobbies. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at the sight, "What am I looking at here?" you asked, clearly confused. The sound of your voice paused their conversation and they turned to look at you with big grins on their faces, "How long was I gone for? The last thing I remember was Wooyoung trying to bite Yunho's head off... Now, what the fuck is this?" you asked.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes before pulling your chair, "Oh calm down, we found common ground," he smirked as he patted the seat on the chair, gesturing for you to sit down. You sat down slowly, body level as your bottom touched the chair and the tray touch the table. "Common... Ground?" subconsciously you parroted, unsure because the situation was beyond your imagination. Yunho nodded, assuring you that you heard correct, "Yeah, common ground. While I don't advertise it loudly like Mingi, I'm a gamer too! Turns out, Wooyoung and I have been playing a couple of same games since we were teenagers," he explained. You let out an 'ooh' at the revelation, remembering how you used to sometimes spend nights accompanying Yunho play games when he didn't come to your apartment.

Suddenly Wooyoung's hand shot up excitedly, "Oh my god, dude! What if we can get BamSanSang to feature us in their stream? We can play together! You and I can demolish those losers!" he spoke at a speed that can only be deemed as 'overly excited'. Hearing that made you cross your arms, "Oh, it's 'us' now between you two?" you smirked, teasing them. Hearing you tease them, Wooyoung smirked. He placed his chin on an arm that he rested on the table, "Aww, are you jealous sweetie?" he teased back. Absurd, you thought, your eyes widened and you smacked him on his shoulder lightly. Before you could say anything else, Yunho copied Wooyoung's pose with a dumb grin on his face, "Aww, don't worry sweetie, you're still our only girl." he joked.

You pouted and dropped your back to lean back firmly on the chair, "Okay, I'm hating this so much right now," you grumbled which made the two men laugh.

Although they were laughing at you (of course with much affection), you couldn't help but let the features of your expression soften. Your plan was going way more smoothly than ever and it was all thanks to them. Of course, you initiated the meeting, but their cooperation is imperative. You had maybe expected them to be civil with each other as long as you were around, but never would you expect them to be so friendly with each other. It made you beyond happy, honestly. At least one issue is covered, which is making sure that whatever happens, neither of them is going to have bad blood. Or at least, they'll remain civil. If they don't end up dating each other that is. The last thought honestly made your left eye twitch because that would've been the biggest curveball life could throw at you.

"Hey, (y/n)," Yunho called out, tapping you gently on your hand, "We're thinking that tomorrow maybe we can hang out together again. Does that sound okay?" he asked, wiggling slightly in his seat and you just know that he and Wooyoung had planned something while you were so deep in your head. You raised an eyebrow at him, "Together as in with me or are you planning to have a date with each other?" you pursed your lips, challengingly. Wooyoung draped an arm on the back of your chair and confidently winked at you, "Baby, no matter how pretty Yunho is, you're the only woman for me," which made Yunho furrowed his eyebrows, "Wait, are you calling me a woman?" "No I'm not, but based on the gaming stories you told me, I can say you play like a bitch," Wooyoung smirked. "Oh, okay, considering your current level, if I'm a bitch then what are you?" Yunho defended himself and soon they started bickering like an old married couple. You? You felt like their friend Steve.

Nevertheless, you took this as a win and enjoyed seeing your plan working. So despite listening to them bicker and then joking and bickering again, you regret nothing.

Unbeknownst to you, just across the street, a pair of eyes has been glaring at you three with the utmost rage and jealousy.

"I can't let this be."

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