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ohdeerfully · 2 months

Note

I just read one of your works with Alastor ears and KAKAISKSNSMSDHJSJ IT WAS ADORABLE, can you write one about the reader finding out Alastor has a tail and he's all flustered and nervous about it because well HES THE RADIO DEMON HES SCARY and he can't be scary when his tail wags when the reader praises him (MAKE IT WHOLESOME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE)

HELLOOO I LOVE ALASTOR TAIL!! tail + more sleepytime = deadly fic combo THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!

Silky Fur

alastor x reader (comfort/fluff) TW: none? join my discord!

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After a year of being together, you and Alastor had fallen into a rather steady nightly routine, though sometimes he was too busy with Satan Knows What and would leave the hotel and you wondering if he would come back to you for the night. When this happened, you often didn’t see him till the next morning—or, even the afternoon.

Lately, that “sometimes” had turned into every night. For the past week. And it was starting to make you feel… kind of shitty, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. You spent so many hours reasoning and making excuses for him—he was an Overlord, after all. No wonder he was so busy! Plus, you just so happened to fall into his life; you shouldn’t expect him to just give up his duties for you.

You looked at the ceiling, arms spread out on either side of you as you tried to convince yourself to stop feeling bad for the sixth night in a row. You missed him next to you, and started to find it harder and harder to get to sleep without his company. You craved him, and you wondered if he craved you in the same way—if he even missed you.

You sat up with a groan after a few more minutes, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. It was pointless, you decided, just laying down doing nothing. If you couldn’t sleep, you might as well go do something productive. You threw on a hoodie and made your way down the long corridor, and then down the steps.

This late in the night, the sky had an eerie red glow. It filtered through the curtains of the large hotel windows, casting long, sharp shadows that made your skin crawl if you looked too long. No matter how long you lived in Hell, you never got used to the unfriendly ambience. You had to remind yourself that you were safe in the hotel. You stuffed your hands in the pockets of your hoodie and looked towards your feet as you walked.

There was some paperwork regarding a couple residents you promised Charlie you would help her process. So, you decided you could get a headstart on finishing them, although you didn’t really see the point in the paperwork itself; it was all just going to be horrible criminal records that Charlie would try desperately to ignore.

You opted for the hotel lobby over the cramped office, spreading out the papers across the low coffee table. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you were glad to at least be out of the room.

You sat for a mind numbing amount of time, only listening to the ticking of a faint clock as you processed the information for the residents. It was times like this that made you want to curse Alastor for refusing to allow any sort of modern technology into the hotel. You get it, of course, with Vox and all—but, man, what you wouldn’t give to just have an easy spreadsheet to type this all into.

If you weren’t tired before, you sure were now. Your eyes drug across the papers, blearily taking in the information. You blinked heavily, trying to rid your vision of the tears of exhaustion. You slumped back with a sigh, the pages loosely held in your hands as you rested your eyes for a moment.

Bad idea.

Almost immediately, sleep overtook you, papers slipping through your fingers and drifting across the floor in every direction as your consciousness faded away.

You woke again when you felt your body jostling, then suddenly lifted. It took a minute to wake up enough to peer through cracked eyelids and see that you were being carried up the hotel stairs. You felt familiar arms cradling your back and legs, and the firmness of a chest that your head rested against.

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That staticy feeling in the air and prickling your skin was enough to know. You let your body relax again, but couldn’t seem to catch sleep again.

He hummed a gentle tune as he walked, using his knee to turn the doorknob to your shared room. He pushed it open with his shoulder and walked you in.

You felt the plush sheets of your bed as he sat you down, but you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position to look at him. Stare at him. You hoped he could pick apart your emotions just by the way you glared. If he did, he made no attempt at asking what was wrong, and merely looked back at you with his slightly glowing red eyes and wide grin.

“You’ll hurt your back, falling asleep on the couch like that!” He started to chastise you playfully. He turned his back to you and opened up a drawer against the wall.

“Where have you been, Al,” You asked, ignoring his comment. You looked towards your feet. It was hard questioning him, because he didn’t take much seriously, no matter how serious you felt. There was a lump in your throat as you spoke.

“Busy as usual, my dear,” He replied in a sing-song voice. A quiet jazz tune emanated from the microphone atop his cane. Or, would that make it a radio? Both, probably. He rummaged through that drawer for a moment, before pulling out a thin, plain shirt and fuzzy pajama pants.

He walked back over to you, and you noticed the way his eyes flicked across your face, examining your expression. Still, he said nothing. You’d like to think he felt guilty, and didn’t want to admit it—but, truly, you doubted it. He wasn’t one for guilt, after all.

“I’ve been pretty lonely for a week, you know,” You said, folding your arms. “I’d at least like a better explanation.”

You allowed your arms to fall when he pulled at your elbows. You lifted them above your head as he gingerly gripped the edges of your hoodie and pulled it off. He quickly replaced it with the shirt he had grabbed earlier. He followed similar motions with your pants.

As angry as you were, you appreciated intimate moments like this with him. Moments so close, so vulnerable and bare, but still comfortable and sensitive. It was weird, with him being the Radio Demon and all.

“Maintaining turfs and deals is exhausting work, ma moitie, and there’s a few souls that haven’t been keeping up with their side of our bargains,” Alastor explained rather indifferently. Though, you could tell by the strain in his smile and the clipping in the radio static that he was trying his best to be delicate and honest—as possible as that is with Alastor.

“Just– tell me something next time, at least, ‘kay?” You felt embarrassed by the practically begging tone in your voice, but Alastor didn’t seem to notice.

“I suppose it is wrong for a gentleman to leave his lady questioning,” Alastor joked. He meant it, though, and he carefully smoothed your hair in an attempt at comfort.

He stepped away from you, and you frowned at the sudden space. The frown was quickly replaced by a wide smile when you noticed Alastor removing his sharp coat and carefully hanging it by the door.

What a treat, you thought, as you watched him discard the layers of his outfit. Your mouth fell open when he turned his back to you.

“You have a tail?” You asked. Alastor’s ears twitched back for a moment, stiff.

Clear as day, right in front of your eyes, was a tail you had somehow never seen before. Delicate, fluffy, and red with black—just like his ears. You couldn’t stop the stunned laugh that escaped your mouth.

“Regretfully, I do,” Alastor responded. He quickly turned back to face you. His nose was scrunched in disdain and his lips were curled in a frustrated smile. “Don’t talk about it. To anybody.”

You laughed again and quickly beckoned him towards the bed. He complied and sat down next to you. He had noticeably sat in such a way that his waist was angled to keep his tail out of sight.

You pouted at him, wordlessly motioning towards what you both knew you wanted.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not a pet, nor a toy,” He said roughly. The static in his voice was heavy. You knew he was embarrassed, and that made your grin all the wider. It probably rivaled his own harsh smile.

“I’ll never, ever, ever ask again, ever,” You promised, holding out your pinky. Alastor’s eyes rolled at the motion. Alternatively, he held out his palm for you to shake.

You eyed his hand, then looked back up to him. You jerked your pinky towards him, urging him to take it instead. You weren’t about to actually bind your promise in a real deal. You knew in, like, a week you would probably beg him to see his tail again.

“How incredibly childish,” He sighed. Still, he curled his hand into a fist and connected his sharp pinky with your own. “I won’t forget about this.” He threatened.

“Yeah, yeah, show me the goods,” You said with a sly smile. Alastor stared at you for a few seconds, narrowed his eyes, and roughly twisted his waist so that his tail turned towards you. He kicked his leg up and over the other, and folded his arms all sassy-like and impatiently waited for you to finish your very important mission.

You smiled gratefully, and gingerly settled your hands on the tail. It was so incredibly soft. As much hatred he seemed to hold for the thing, Alastor obviously took great care in the fur, keeping it silky smooth and combed.

It seemed sensitive, and you noticed how his ears twitched and turned in response to your touch. His eyes were cast away from you, and his brows were furrowed. Was he blushing? No, probably a trick of the light.

“Your tail is super soft, Al,” You complimented. “Probably the best in all of Hell.”

“Are you quite finished,” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyes clenched shut. His own body betrayed him, though, as his tail wagged at you slightly. You held in a squeal of delight at the sight, knowing he would probably leave you right then and there. However, you had been at it for a few minutes and didn’t want to push your luck any further. You sighed in response, and removed your fingers from his tail.

“I guess, for now,” You said playfully. This elicited a sharp look from the Radio Demon.

“For forever,” He claimed. “We shook pinkies.”

You managed to hold in the laugh from his words. It was impossible to take him seriously as he said that, especially as he sat with a tail on full display and ears quirked backwards in embarrassment.

You yawned, opting to stop responding to him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt as you fell back into the mattress, and he easily let himself fall alongside you. He was settled next to you, and you practically magnetically attached yourself to him. He was stiff for a few minutes, but slowly unwound and relaxed next to you.

It didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep. With the familiar heat and weight of his body in the mattress next to you, you were comfortable again for the first time in a week. The feeling of Alastor’s nails playing through your hair was the final straw as a deep sleep erased your senses.

#ohdeerfully #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #alastor x you #alastor is kind of a butt at first #his tail makes up for it tho #i imagine its super sensitive bc he ignores it so much #he might be touched starved but u didnt hear it from me!

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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months

Text

Hurricane

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

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

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

Word Count: 9.5k

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

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

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

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

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

More silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”

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

“Would you ever be a stripper?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me do this for you…Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks again Carmen.”

“Will your car be back tomorrow?”

“The day after.”

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Night y/n”

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

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

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

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

Awkward silence.

“Good morning.” Y/n started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly.

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

“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.

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

“Let me think about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned

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

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

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

“Only a few hours” Richie offered

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

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

More silence.

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

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

“You would be fucking crazy to say no.”

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

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

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

“You're religious?” Richie questioned

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I have to use the bathroom?”

“No.”

“No?”

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

“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”

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

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

“What? Why?”

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

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

“I’m not letting you do this unless-”

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

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

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

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

“Is it handled?”

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

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

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

“No wise cracks.”

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

“Sure thing princess.”

“Do not-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Payback time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like it here.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You promised, you wouldn’t.”

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

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

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

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

"Tattoo?"

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

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

“Your past the counter, chef”

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

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

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

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

“Make it hurt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A shot of water?” y/n offered.

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

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

“Hit me with your best shot, chef.”

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

“How was that, chef?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to go to bed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You need some sleep”

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a jacket”

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

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

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

“Aggravated Assault.”

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

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

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

“We’ll see when she wakes up.”

Part 2

2K notes · View notes

running-with-kn1ves · 2 months

Text

Drunken Stupor

A/N: this is based off of that drunken yan gangster idea that I couldn't get out of my head. I might rewrite it or do it differently but this is 4 u my 1 gangster lovin' anon for now!

OG Yandere Gangster Drabble (nsft) w/ da Yan Gangster Ramble

TW: kidnapping, drunken yandere, noncon kissing (no nsft), threats, toxic behavior,

Puzzles, accompanied by whatever news channel you could get through. Paint-by-number pictures, and shitty DVD’s from another time. Horribly thin sheets and an aching back--- you were completely, utterly, and seemingly irrevocably, isolated. The tight handcuffs around your feet only allowed you to hop around the house, barely making it to the front door before you tripped over the rug and nosedived into the cold, black floor.

How long has it been? When was the last time you felt the spring wind on your face? You weren’t even allowed to open the windows, out of your captors fear of you screaming for help, even with him right next to you. He gave you countless things to keep yourself entertained, whether they be knitting grandma-like sweaters or taking up a different artistic hobby, anything that could keep you in one spot for long without the need to move or the option to hurt yourself.

You were tempted to scream, to throw your half-finished puzzle at the wall and destroy the nice room set up for you that once belonged to the lone bachelor-- who, was much later than usual tonight. Your throat was too sore to keep up with the screaming however, and you pushed it to the back of your mind to try again tomorrow. If he came home all of a sudden and found you screaming at the ripe hour of 11 PM, he might do more than just threaten with one of his switchblades.

You hated being around the bastard, feeling so terrified and weak like maybe today would finally be your last-- but at this point, you were going insane being by yourself for so long. Even a nice screaming match with him until your voice finally left you would more desirable than watching another 80s thriller that would haunt your dreams, alone. For someone who wasn’t home very often, he certainly had an extensive collection of old gangster movies, romcoms too even. But you couldn’t put Sixteen Candles on again without wanting to rip your eyes out-- not even one of his five million copies of The Godfather. Who needs that many copies of the same movie?

Your exhausted, beaten-down brain jolted at the sound of someone jerking at the door handle. The door practically thumped with the lock against the wall, dust raining as it was violently ripped back and forth. But then came the familiar jangle of an overloaded key ring, one you had heard most nights for what you can only assume has been the past month.

Finally, your spiked anxiety crashed when you saw those familiar, much-too-shiny-for-a-gangster-to-be-wearing black leather shoes thump inside. You peaked your head out from your sitting position near the opened bedroom door, trying to get a glimpse without getting up and alerting him of your presence. It was inevitable for him to come to you, his kidnapee, but you tried to postpone the smothering for as long as possible. Maybe now was the time to chuck that puzzle.

“You reallyyy gotta hold *hic* on mee…”

Mismatched footsteps trudged, stopping first to hit the corner of what you could only assume was the livingroom loveseat.

“Move outa ma way, couch! ..Even though you… treeat me *hic* badlyy..”

You heard the raking of fingernails on the couch cushions, the clink of a bottle rolling on the ground back and forth. You didn’t dare look back through the door crack. Maybe you should shut it? Lord knows what that would cause him to do, though.

“You still gotts’a hold on me…”

The sing-songy voice came closer, belonging to the madman you dreaded the return of. Within the crack of the door you saw a dark silhouette, the TV casting a face-shadowing glow that made you just an inch more terrified.

“Hey, baby…” He hiccuped.

“Well that’s new,” You started, looking away from him back to your puzzle. “When did I become your ‘baby’?”

He moaned thoughtfully, thinking about your rhetorical question. “After you kidnapped me, I suppose?”

Maybe it was wrong to poke the beast, especially because he smelled like dirty whiskey and had three buttons too loose on his dress shirt, showing a deep scar betwixt his faint chest hair. A vulnerable image he’d never let you witness soberly.

“Hrmmm….” He pushed his entire weight on the door, letting it creak open as he looked at you with a smile.

“I dunno…maybe.” He laughed a little, giving a small snort like a schoolboy hearing his first nasty joke.

You rolled your eyes. Damn, as if you weren’t on edge before, now you were going to have to deal with the equivalent of a murderous toddler who’s been threatening to hurt you ever since you were first brought here. Drunken fools were best left at the bar.

But your icy demeanor didn’t sway his unsettingly good mood, the gangster opening the door all the way to flop onto your (unwillingly) shared bed. He dug his face into the sheets that smelled like you, looking at the back of your head that was pressed against the edge of the mattress.

“Was thinkin’ bout’cha…” He murmurs, tugging at a strand of your hair from behind. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ to the boys, ‘bout how pretty you are..”

The short yanks at your hair to get your attention were becoming annoying, though you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of glaring face-to-face.

“Told em’ how nice you look when yer sleepin’, when ya brush ya teeth, sayin’ that they’re not allowed to have ya....”

You hummed in response, trying to bend away to get closer to your puzzle. But you could sense the bubbling in your stomach, could feel that something was coming. Whether it’d be a bunch of slobbered kisses or your early demise, you couldn’t tell.

“Oh really?” You asked, knowing he’d been adamant on not saying a word or letting make a peep about your existence in his gang-funded condo.

“Yah, I did. Don’t believe me? Said i’d cut their fingers off, like boss does when some’n fucks up. I’d slam into em, make em watch while I...”

He went quiet, and you thanked whatever made him. Whatever he said, you didn’t want to know; you’d already had enough of an unwilling look into his violent thoughts.

“Well, doesn’t matter now, right... ‘cause now I gots’ya here. Mmph,” You hear him kick his shoes off, his face coming up to bury in your hair. “Smellin’ so good, lookin’ so nice fr’ me… wanting you so bad.”

The sound of him inhaling you, his nose pressed to your neck as he shimmies his head deeper against you like a cat is uncomfortably warm. You feel two hands creep up, looking for your shoulders to push you back and make you more accessible.

The gangster wasn’t normally so affectionate, so quiet and simple when he spoke. You were waiting for it to be replaced by his normal, angrily resentful behavior, the type that’d pull you by the hair to kiss you, that’d rant about the idiots he’d had to deal with for the day at you. But maybe, just maybe, you were in the clear for now?

“You’re acting weird,” You try to jerk away. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you, okay? Just, let me do my puzzle in peace. Go take a shower or something.”

He’s quick to respond, wrapping veiny arms around your shoulders and dangerously close to your neck.

“Nuh huh, not unless yer comin’ with me, wanna show how much I loove you,” His head pops up closer to yours, the stressed crinkles under his eyes making him look older. “Cuz’ baby, you reallyy gotta hold on mee..”

“Stop stop stop.” You couldn’t take the second-hand embarassment of listening him to try to sing again, horribly off key and far too confident in each drawn out word. “What do I have to do to stop you from singing again?”

“I can’t hold it in though. Love’s too strong for you, love.” His disheveled hair, once slicked back in an oily black, now strewn about across his forehead as it nearly covers his eyebrows. He presses his forehead towards you. “Lemme kiss. Told the boys you give the best kisses, lemme prove it..”

“Prove what-- they’re not even here!” You try to go under his arm-barricade, only to be stopped as he practically puts his full weight forward, dragging him with you each time you move.

“Lovin’ you for so long, jusst a kiss, just one kith..” He reaches for your cheek with his lips, ignoring how you whip your head around in retaliation.

“No, no! You stink like a bar and ciggarettes, get off me.”

He grunts in frustration, biting down on his lower lip as his dark, full eyebrows furrow together.

“Let me kiss or i’ll.. I’ll gut you like a fish, my lovely..”

You stopped at that, looking out of the corner of your eye to his pink-tinted cheeks and strong neck that sweated at the sight of you.

He puts a ringed knuckle to your cheek, huffing as his eyes go half-lidded. His suit was all wrinkled from rolling around on the bed, dirty with the day’s work and bar-stench as he forced you back against the end of the mattress.

“C’mon, don’t make me say stuff like that just for a kiss…” He whined, scooting closer. “Maybe I’ll start singing again, y’knoww, if y’don’t come close.”

“Please just… don’t hurt me.” You mumbled, trying to avoid that blank, dark look he often held that came crawling back a moment ago. You didn’t want that sober side right now; this was somehow easier to handle, even if it meant losing your dignity.

“Don’t wanna, never will,” He hums, staring unbothered at your lips, as if he wasn’t holding you tight enough to suffocate. “S’just kiss me, need it bad..”

You looked around, as if there was anyone else looking, trying to avoid the task that made you shiver inside.

But you didn’t get a chance to reject the drunken gangster again, his wet lips coming against the side of your face. He poked the tip of his tongue out, flicking against your lip before going tongue-first into your surprised mouth.

Anytime he had tried to kiss you, to do anything overtly intimate, the most he released was the silent huffs of a man too wrapped up in himself to let you hear anything of pleasure. But now, you witnessed the lewd shlops of his lips against yours, the neediness of the back of his throat, groaning to be deeper inside of you.

One of his heavy hands cradled the back of your head, his stupor not caring (or rather, not noticing) how little you moved, how you seemed to be backing into his large palm that massaged your hair.

“Loved’ya forever, so happy you were so stupid…” He mumbles between licks to the corner of your lip, diving back into the sticky warmth of you. “What kinda… mph, idiot, doesn’t..hugh, report to the police..?”

With his arm once wrapped around you, the gangster takes your limp wrist to his collar, bringing it to hold his loose tie. He makes you drag him closer, guiding your slow and frowning lips in his one-sided makeout session.

“Not’ma fault, making your life so much better now.. N’now, you’re mine.” He grins, a stupid little grin from the alcohol and delusion swarming his head as he consumes you, fingers coming to fiddle with your cotton T-shirt as he draws lines down your chest. “My sweet sunshine, all mine, forever n’ ever.”

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xhoneygirlxx · 8 months

Text

In My Feels

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Steve’s heart now belongs to the pretty woman who always comes in with her two adorable kids. When he finally decides to make a move, he’s shocked to find out she’s not their mom.

warnings: fluff. Barista!Steve. Reader and Steve are both in their 20’s. Nanny!Reader. Modern!au. Readers ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. Pictures above are used for aesthetic purposes only. Shitty writing/grammar errors, not proofread.

*if I miss anything please let me know.

a/n: day two of my birthday bash has finally arrived!! I’m so grateful for the amount of love and support you guys have given me. Although this is my birthday week, I wanted to spend it with you guys and give us both something we can enjoy :) I love every single one of you guys and I hope you like this!

Now I’m in my feels

Way up in the clouds somewhere now

Don’t know what’s real

Working at the Java Cup, Steve dealt with a lot of different people. Tired students, doctors and nurses coming and going from shifts, and everyone in between. During the six months of his employment there only one customer seemed to catch his attention, you.

From the moment you walked in he knew he was fucked. With one kid on your hip and the other in the stroller, you already had him in the palm of your hand. No matter what, rain or shine, you and your two kids always came in with bright smiles. Although a lot of your interactions were small talk or your older son trying to, his heart infatuation for you every single time.

You were so fucking beautiful and Steve was nothing but a fool for you. So many times he would go home and just pray that you weren’t taken, that maybe somewhere written in the stars there was a chance for him.

Steve wanted to ask you out but every single time he chickened out, throwing out multiple cup sleeves that had horrible puns written on them in the process. Ever since getting broken up with by Nancy, his self esteem and confidence dropped. No matter how many times his best friend and coworker, Robin, tried to talk some sense into him, he just couldn’t do it.

It was comical watching him stutter and blush scarlet every time you would speak, tripping over his words like it was his first time ever talking. Because he was so smitten with you, his insecurities grew and poking fun at him any time he would think about possibly asking you out.

Here you were, a pretty mom with two adorable kids that he adored, so sweet and kind to him, and so far out of his league. There was no pot at the end of this rainbow for Steve, but he continued to chase it in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.

Now it's been six months and Steve has run out of steam, his legs growing tired and his lungs burning with exhaustion with how long he's been running. So, he's decided that it's time to give up on his mission to of getting to the finish line.

There was no point to continue trying, not when you're probably more than happy with the father of your children, going home to your white picket fence and happy home. So he pulled back, watched from behind the counter, and continued to daydream about the life he's always wanted.

“You know you could just go talk to her, right?” Robin’s voice is louder than she thinks, the low music and hum of the espresso machine doing little to cover it up.

“Say it louder, why don’t you.” Rolling his eyes, Steve continues to wipe down the counter that he’s been working on for the past ten minutes.

“I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of pathetic and creepy that you’re always staring.” Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, the brunette girl runs her hands down her black apron. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“What’s the worst-” Turning on his heel quickly, Steve stares at his best friend with wide eyes, “Robin, there is a laundry list of things that could go wrong.”

“Yeah? Try me.” Crossing her ankle over the other, Robin leans on the sink with a waiting look.

“Firstly, she could be married,” Steve starts counting on his finger.

“No ring on her finger.” Robin counters.

“Well she’s a mom with two kids, I doubt she has time for a twenty something, no good, barista that barely has his life together.”

“EEEEEEEE WRONG,” She makes a loud buzzer noise, “One you aren’t no good, you’re actually a really great person who needs to see just how amazing he is. Two, you may be a barista who can barely keep his life together but, you’re reliable and take care of yourself, not to mention you have your own car and place, more than other twenty somethings. And lastly, you’re also a mother to a group of teenagers, so it works perfectly.”

Dropping his hands down to his sides, Steve lets the words settle into his heart. He was a good person, he did have a good impression with the gaggle of kids he sometimes watches, and he did have some of his life together.

“Okay well, she could reject me and I will not only lose more of my confidence but I’ll also lose my favorite customer.” Sighing in defeat, he whips the rag that still sits in his hand over his shoulder. "Either way, I gave up on that dream a long time ago."

Robin shakes her head, stepping forward to the boy she calls her best friend and shakes him by the shoulders. “You are Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! There was a reason everyone called you king Steve and it wasn’t just because you were a huge dick.”

“Hey!!” Steve raises his voice in defeat and she waves him off continuing her peptalk.

“Listen, I know that lady killer is somewhere in there,” She pokes at his chest, “So you’re gonna put your big boy panties on, walk up to her and ask her out! I’m sick and tired of watching you look all sad and depressing, so you’re going to do as I say or I’ll do it for you.” Smiling brightly at him, the girl taps him lovingly on the shoulder.

Robin may be a lot of things, including annoying, but a liar is not one of them. Steve knows that she will one hundred percent walk up to you, throw him under the bus, with a mega-watt smile as she does it.

Watching his friend walk around the counter with a broom and dust pan in hand, her head turns to wear your sat at a table by the front window, talking to your older son, rocking your baby in the stroller with your foot. Turning her attention back to Steve, she smiles wickedly and turns slightly like she’s heading your way. Anxiety rises in the back of his throat, heartbeat picking up and banging hard in his chest.

“Fine, I’m going just- fuck off.” It comes out through gritted teeth. Running a shaking hand down the front of his apron, Steve rounds the counter muttering something under his breath.

As he walks to the table, Robin gives him two thumbs up and an exaggerated smile to which he replies by simply throwing a middle finger up at her.

As he steps closer to your table the thought of turning back around and hiding in the back room comes into mind.

There’s no pot of gold here, only gray clouds and roaring thunder. He can turn back now and continue his sorrowful journey of pining.

But then he looks at you, smiling and laughing at something the young boy next to you said, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. What a beautiful way to die, Steve thinks. The thunder and lightning is all worth it when he gets to see you as he takes his final breaths.

“H-hey,” His voice is wobbly, nervousness clearly showing as he speaks.

“Hi Steve.” Your eyes meet his, saccharine smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Hi steeb!” The young boy next to you waves while clutching a red crayon in his tiny hand.

“Hi Aidan. How are you little man?” Steve seems to loosen up a bit, the presence of your son lets him exhale just slightly.

“M’colorin a pixture.” The small boy’s tongue pokes between his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he draws what looks like a demented stick figure.

“It looks good, little dude.” Steve encourages, cooing sweetly at him.

“Fanks.” Still focusing on his picture, the smaller boy grabs a different crayon from the box that sits on the table.

“What’s up, Steve?” You ask, still rocking the stroller back and forth with your tennis shoe covered foot.

“Oh-h yeah, um I was just gonna ask, ah what you were doing.” Just like a switch, he’s back to being a fumbling doofus.

You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks tingle with heat. Looking between the two kids, you look back up to the older man in front of you.

“Well, I’m enjoying a coffee while Aidan colors and Bella naps peacefully.” You nod your head slowly, eyeing the barista questioningly.

Steve wants to slap a hand on his forehead, embarrassed by the fact he can’t even formulate one sentence.

“Yeah, no I see that. Seems fun, I mean not fun but like ya know, seems-“ His stammering is cut off by your soft voice.

“Are you okay? You seem really nervous.” Your eyebrows are pinched together, worry painted on your features.

“Me? I’m great, fantastic!” It comes enthusiastic and way louder than he intended, so loud that Robin hears and instantly facepalms.

“Well, that’s great Steve.” You’re still eyeing him suspiciously and he really wants to jump ship.

“I’m just gonna go and do my ugh, my stuff.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, spinning on the ball of his feet leaving before he can say anything else embarrassing.

No, he can’t leave now, not when he’s made it this close to the finish line. This is what he’s been waiting for, the treasure he’s been searching for. It’s no or never and he can’t go back to praying the same prayer that somewhere in this universe you two were destined to be.

With a new found confidence, he turns right back into the eye of the storm and faces it head strong.

“Actually, I came over here because I wanted to know if maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” His chest is puffed out like, more sure of himself than he’s ever been.

The confidence that’s surging through him starts to falter when he reads your expression. You, and Aidan who has now stopped coloring, stare at him with bugged out eyes and gaping mouths.

“Only if that’s okay with you and all. If you want you can bring the kids along and we can go get ice cream and stuff but if you need it I have some friends who are great with kids and who will be willing to babysit for you.” He’s back peddling, trying to give you a way out in case you want to reject him it won’t hurt so bad.

“Oh Steve,” it’s said with pity and he knows the lighting strike is about to hit, “I-I’m not their mom.”

“Yeah no I get it, sorry if I- wait..” Stopping in his tracks, he looks back and forth between you and the small boy, connecting the dots in his head. “You’re not their mom?”

You and Aidan share a look before giggling together. Gazing back up at the flustered man in front of you, you smile kindly at him.

“No, I’m their nanny, Steve. Although I love them like they’re my own, they’re not.”

“Oh.” Steve continues to stare at you, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an O.

“Yeah, I just watch these little guys.” You shrug your shoulders.

“That’s still cool, I mean the offer still stands.” Even though he’s confused, his voice is a little shaky when he asks.

“Do the kids still have to come?” You ask and Aidan shouts an offended “hey”.

“I mean they can if you want, it’s all up to you.” He eyes you, waiting for your reaction but your expression doesn’t give him much to go on.

“Hmmm, I’m going to have to ask my trusted right hand man.” Holding a finger up at him, you leave over to the smaller boy next to you.

Aidan covers you hear with a small hand trying to cover the movements of his lips, even though Steve can still his his muffled whispers from where he stands.

Shaking your head, you repeat back uh huh’s to him, taking everything that’s being said seriously.

Moving back to your upright position, you stare at Steve with a serious gaze.

“Well, my counsel says I should go but you have to buy me ice cream. No buts about it.” Your straight face begins to falter when Steve’s white teeth shine at you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you whatever ice cream you want.” Steve bobs his head, cheeks flaring pink and eyes shining brightly.

“You can’t kiss, only mommies and daddies do dat stuff.” Aidan pipes in and Steve can’t help but chuckle with how the little boys face is scrunched up with intensity.

“Yes sir.” Steve gives the little boy a solute, while sending you a sneaky wink, and the kid quickly accepts.

“So, I’ll text you?” Steve asks

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as you say it.

“Okay, cool cool. I’ll ah, see you later.” Steve nods his head, backing away from the table slowly.

Sprinting to the backroom, he sees Robin who pretends like she hasn’t been listening in.

“Robs, I fucking did it!” Steve whisper yells, still cautious knowing your still out there.

“I honestly thought you were gonna back out for a second! I’m so proud of you for hanging in there!”

The two of them start hopping around like jumping beans, beaming so brightly they can outshine any star in the sky.

“So you got her number?” Robin asks, heavily breathing from all their excitement.

“Fuck-“ stopping dead in his tracks, Steve bolts to the door and back out to the front.

That’s where he finds you’ve already left and he’s heartbroken. The only memory that you were even there is your lingering perfume that sticks to the air.

You’ll probably be back some time soon but he’s still a little let down knowing he didn’t fully seal the deal. Looking closely at the table, he notices Aidan left one of his drawings.

Picking up the paper, he looks at it closely realizing Aidan didn’t leave it, you did.

Steve,

You left before I could give you my number. I didn’t want to disrupt your little party or anything.

Can’t wait to get that ice cream.

-your favorite customer

683-027-9305

Folding up the paper, Steve sticks it in the pocket of his apron.

“Don’t worry Steve, she’ll be back.” Robin calls out from behind the counter, apparently not seeing the little not that was left.

“I know she will.” It’s said quietly but the smile on his lips isn’t.

It’s beautiful on this side of the rainbow, Steve thinks, the pot of gold was so worth all the work. Robin was right, he still had it.

Thank you all for joining me on this second day of my celebration!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Love you all ❤️

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington friends to lovers #modern!steve harrington

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songbirdseung · 2 months

Text

mr. green flag / park jongseong

synopsis: after dating the wrong guys, you wanted to give up love and relationships. although, a man named park jongseong changed things for you.

pairing: nonidol!jay x nonidol!yn

warnings: cheating, red flag boyfriends, love triangles, cuss words

The bartender was most likely your best friend now since you basically came to the bar every week or two. Crying over a guy who definitely not worth your tears and time. But the bartender was very understanding of your situation and tried his very best to provide comfort and reassurance.

You found out his name was Terry. He's been working at the bar as his second job just to make extra money. Such a nice genuine guy, someone you wish you could date but for some reason, the universe hated your guts, or you just did so horrible in your past life that you need to be punished in this life.

"Okay, last one for tonight. You still got to drive yourself home" he slides your drink towards you with a serious but caring look on his face. "When are you going to break up with that douchebag?" all the arrows pointed to breaking up with him, but since you were so blinded, you couldn't just let him go. As stupid as it was, you loved him despite all the foolish and childish things he has done to you.

"I love you; I do. But I hate seeing you walk through the door with a frown on your face and tears running down your face. It's time you be single or date a good guy" terry doesn't know how many times he had already said these things to you, but he has to remind you every time.

On the drive home, you were dreading it. What if you open the door to your shared apartment with your boyfriend and see him banging another girl? why did you have to be so stupid and such a coward, why couldn't you just say the words "let's break up" or "I'm done" then follow up with a "get out of my apartment" then be over with it.

Luckily for you, the universe wanted to be a little bit kinder to you, you opened the door to your apartment and no, your boyfriend wasn't hooking up with someone. But you knew, he probably already did earlier in the day. As you make your way into the kitchen to drink some medicine and water, you receive a text from terry.

terry: don't forget what I said earlier, you can't say you forgot because we both know you're not drunk.

You sigh and head to your bedroom where your boyfriend is playing video games. You turn on the light and he immediately spin around in his chair and starts yelling at how you disrupted his game.

This is it; you just have to do it. Just say the words yn. "I'm breaking up you, by tomorrow morning, I expect you to be out of this house and my life."

That was a whole month ago, now you were currently single and moving on. Instead of being at the bar with terry, you were at the mall. "I'm proud of you yn, it's been a month and from what I've notice, you're doing great" you smile and nod, "I honestly did not know where the confidence came from when I broke up with him."

You recall all the times you got broken up with by your past 2 boyfriends. they all treated you the way your 3rd boyfriend did. Realizing that all these three, when you started dating them, they would put up a persona, a facade as if they were good guys and they would treat you the way you deserved. They promised things that turned to be absolutely bullshit and empty promises. Then down the road, they would slowly show their true colors and behaviors.

"Maybe I'm meant to be single, maybe i should just give up on relationships" terry listens to your rants and future goals. Listing down all the things you want to do now since you were free from manipulators and controlling men. "Who knows, Mr. right is just around the corner" he pretends to look around, but you miss the real intention or message behind that remark from terry.

Relationships and love were now long gone from your life, and you wanted it to stay that way. Being in those toxic and shitty relationships, you lost yourself. Now it was time to bring that lively and passionate girl back. to do so, old passions, goals, dreams were revisited and worked on again. as months passed, the old you started to resurface. You felt happy, you felt like yourself.

Once day, you went to visit your family house, and in that house, there was a basement where your old stuff was placed in boxes. You placed them there so no one could mess with them and for your old room to be used for whenever they had guest over. Looking through your stuff, you reached over for your guitar that was in its case. The instrument that was your whole life. It was quite upsetting that whenever you would play guitar in your apartment, your ex would get mad at you, claiming how loud you were and how bad you were at playing. it caused you to stop and feel insecure over something you so sure of since you were little. You placed the guitar on your lap and started playing, you haven't played in a long time, but muscle memory was helping you so much.

You got back on your game, focusing on school and looking for a part time job to earn money. You were spending so much time with yourself, you forgot to spend quality time with your friends too. You had terry, chaeryoung, and jake. You weren't a group, but you used to hang out with them separately.

Putting down the paint brush and picking up the disregarded phone on the floor, you dial jake's number. After a few rings he picks up with a sassy but not serious tone. "You remember I exist huh, yn?" you laugh in an apology and ask him if he wants to go out. To which he agrees and tells you he'd be there to pick you up in 15 minutes.

Jake and you go way back, you met him in Australia when you were on vacation. Everyone in your family were appreciating the view as they were sight-seeing. But you were more interested in the golden border collie that was staring back at you and wagging her tail as you made grabby hands at her. Only being 10 years old, your parents didn't let you go anywhere unsupervised, so they kept a tight hold on you, but you just had to pet the cute puppy. With enough wiggling out of their grasp and run away. "Hi, can i pet your puppy?" looking up at the lady who was holding the leash. She gives you the green light and starts asking you questions. "what's your name?" "Where are your parents?" "How old are you?" obviously, you answered her with respect. later, a young boy, who seems to be the son of the lady comes up and says hi. A very friendly boy with an Australian accent asks you if you wanna be friends.

That's where it all began. it was a long-distance friendship, not until jake decided to go back to Korea. You two have been glued to each other's hip since then, he was there for you for everything, for the good and bad. he's seen all the men you'd dated and unlike terry who was the "good cop", jake was the "bad cop" telling you how it was and even if it had to be said in the harshest way, he'd say it. When you told him you ended your recent relationship, happy was an understatement with how Jake felt.

Today, he still is your best friend. "Jake, stop letting me win, it ain't fun that way" stern look on your face as you stare at your best friend who is standing by the goal post. "I'm not, you're just really good" he shrugs his shoulders with that award winning smile. "you're not even moving; you're not even blocking the ball" you whine as you walk up to him.

The whole day was probably spent with Jake, it was getting dark, and it was time to part ways. or so you thought. Jake comes back to you after taking a call from a friend. "Hey, my friend Sunghoon called me saying how he has two extra tickets to that movie we were just talking about, you wanna go?" saying yes, you alert your parents with a text, letting them know you'll be home late.

On the way Jake opens up the topic of romance, asking for an update. "you're not seeing any losers, aren't you?" he chuckles, and he looks at the sour face you made. "No, I'm going to stay single for a long time" emphasize on the word long.

The whole time, you just thought that it would be the three of you, that you only had to meet Sunghoon. But no, you were standing there, with maybe the most good-looking guy you have ever seen. Jake would probably disagree and say it was him. Once you arrive and jake found Sunghoon, you immediately greet him and share banter, then another guy comes from the bathroom and greets you as well.

"Hi, I'm jay. You must be jake's friend he keeps complaining about." He jokes, and when he smiled, you might have just melted, he turns to Sunghoon, and you saw how sharp his jawline was. He was incredibly handsome that it makes you question if you should really give up on love or not.

"What do you mean, complaining...jake?!" you slap jake's arm and face your whole body towards him. "What have you been saying to them?!" you kept slapping his arm until he stops laughing and taking a hold of you. "I tell them how crazily stupid you are when it comes to dating and how I am tired of trying to save your ass yn" he explained while laughing like there was no tomorrow.

"If I was dating you, I think I'd be the one crazily in love" jay speaks and it makes your mind literally stop working, the cogs in your brain stopped and malfunctioned. "Damn you just met her, and you're already smitten?" Sunghoon chuckles and shakes his head, leading you all towards the room where the movie was going to play.

As the movie played, you couldn't help but steal glances at Jay, his profile illuminated by the flickering light of the screen. Each time your eyes met, a playful smile danced on his lips, igniting a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the theater's heating.

When the credits finally rolled, and the lights brightened, Jay turned to you with a grin. "Well, that was a rollercoaster," he remarked, his voice light with amusement. You chuckled in agreement, feeling a sense of ease settle between you. "Definitely kept us on the edge of our seats," you replied, matching his playful tone.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, the bustling chatter of the crowd surrounding you faded into the background as you and Jay fell into conversation. It was effortless, as if you'd known each other for years rather than mere hours. You found yourselves sharing anecdotes, swapping stories, and delving into shared interests with an enthusiasm that felt electric.

"So, what's your favorite movie of all time?" Jay asked, his eyes alight with curiosity as he turned to you. You paused, considering his question with a thoughtful expression. "Hmm, tough one," you mused, a smile quirking at the corners of your lips. "But if I had to choose, I'd say 'Inception.' The whole concept of dreams within dreams just blows my mind."

Jay nodded, his own smile widening. "Ah, a fellow fan of mind-bending plots," he replied, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I'm more of a 'Shawshank Redemption' guy myself. Can't beat a classic."

As you continued to chat and laugh together, the connection between you deepened, each shared moment cementing the bond that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second. It was a feeling unlike any you'd experienced before, a sense of belonging and understanding that left you yearning for more.

And as you walked side by side, the city lights casting a gentle glow upon your faces, you couldn't shake the feeling that this unexpected encounter with Jay was just the beginning of something truly extraordinary.

After the movie, as you all parted ways, Jay lingered, asking if you'd like to grab a coffee sometime. His smile was genuine, his eyes kind, and in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope stir within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was something worth exploring beyond the scars of your past relationships.

As you said goodbye to Jay and watched him walk away with a quickening heart, Jake nudged you playfully. "Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan," he teased, grinning mischievously.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. "Shut up, Jake," you replied, nudging him back. But deep down, you couldn't deny the warmth that Jay's presence had ignited within you, a flicker of possibility in a heart once shrouded in doubt.

In the days that followed your encounter with Jay, your mind became consumed with swirling doubts and questions, overshadowing the initial excitement and warmth you felt in his presence. Despite the undeniable chemistry and the effortless connection you shared, the scars of past heartbreaks loomed large, casting a shadow of uncertainty over your burgeoning feelings.

As you went about your daily routine, thoughts of Jay lingered in the back of your mind, a constant presence that refused to be ignored. You found yourself replaying your conversations, analyzing every word and gesture, searching for signs of hidden agendas or red flags that might betray his true intentions.

"What if I'm just setting myself up for another disappointment?" you whispered to yourself, the weight of past betrayals heavy on your shoulders. The fear of being hurt again, of having your trust shattered and your heart broken, threatened to suffocate the budding hope that had dared to take root in your chest.

You confided in your closest friends, seeking their advice and perspective on the situation. Terry offered words of encouragement, reminding you of your resilience and strength in overcoming past obstacles. "Don't let fear dictate your happiness," he urged, his voice gentle but firm. "Take a chance, yn. You deserve to find love again, and Jay might just be the one to help you rediscover it."

But despite Terry's reassurances, the nagging doubts persisted, gnawing at your confidence and filling your mind with endless what-ifs. What if history were to repeat itself? What if Jay turned out to be just like the others, another heartbreaker in disguise?

As you tossed and turned in bed, sleep eluding you in the late hours of the night, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that gripped your heart. The prospect of opening yourself up to love once more felt both exhilarating and terrifying, a delicate balance between hope and fear that left you teetering on the edge of indecision.

With a sigh, you sank into the soft cushions, the weight of your worries pressing heavily upon you. "I just... I don't know what to do, Chaeryoung," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so afraid of getting hurt again, of making the same mistakes I've made in the past."

Chaeryoung listened attentively, her gaze unwavering as she reached out to gently grasp your hand in hers. "I understand, yn," she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "But you can't let the fear of the past dictate your future. Sometimes, taking a chance on love means embracing the possibility of heartache, knowing that the journey is worth the risk."

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as Chaeryoung's words struck a chord deep within you. "But what if I'm not strong enough to handle it?" you whispered, the fear of vulnerability threatening to consume you.

Chaeryoung squeezed your hand reassuringly, her expression filled with unwavering support. "You are stronger than you know, yn," she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "And you don't have to face this alone. I'll be here for you every step of the way, no matter what happens."

The day of your coffee date with Jay arrived, and despite the lingering doubts that still gnawed at the edges of your mind, you found yourself determined to embrace the opportunity with an open heart. As you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down your outfit and running a nervous hand through your hair, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mingled with trepidation.

When you arrived, Jay was already there, waiting patiently at a table near the window with a warm smile on his lips. As you approached, his eyes lit up with genuine delight, and you felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at the sight of him.

"Hey, yn, I'm so glad you could make it," Jay said, rising from his seat to greet you with a friendly hug. "You look amazing."

You returned his smile with a shy grin of your own, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his easygoing demeanor. "Thanks, Jay," you replied, feeling a surge of gratitude for his kindness and understanding.

As you settled into your seats and engaged in conversation, you found yourself swept away by Jay's charm and wit, his easy laughter and genuine interest in getting to know you better putting you at ease. With each passing moment, the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you began to fade into the background, replaced by a sense of connection and possibility that left you breathless with anticipation.

Midway through the date, as the conversation flowed effortlessly between you and Jay, you found yourself laughing at his animated retelling of a recent mishap at work. His eyes sparkled with amusement, his infectious laughter filling the air and drawing a smile to your lips.

"You wouldn't believe it," Jay exclaimed, his hands gesturing wildly as he recounted the comical series of events. "I swear, if it weren't for my quick thinking, we would have been knee-deep in paperwork!"

You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, I'm glad you were able to save the day," you replied, unable to tear your gaze away from the twinkle in Jay's eyes. "Sounds like you're quite the hero."

Jay grinned, his dimples deepening as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, you have no idea," he teased, his voice laced with playful exaggeration. "I've got a cape and everything."

The two of you shared a laugh, the tension easing between you as you basked in the warmth of each other's company. With each passing moment, you felt yourself growing more comfortable and at ease with Jay, the initial nerves of the date fading into the background as you lost yourself in the easy banter and shared laughter.

And as you shared another round of laughter with Jay, the doubts and insecurities that had once clouded your mind seemed to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of hope and possibility that whispered of new beginnings and endless horizons. With a smile on your lips and a lightness in your heart, you leaned in closer to Jay, eager to savor every moment of this unexpected journey that had brought you together.

As the evening drew to a close and the coffee shop began to empty out, you and Jay found yourselves lingering at your table, reluctant to part ways just yet. The easy conversation and shared laughter had created a bond between you that felt both comforting and exhilarating, leaving you reluctant to let the night end.

As you gathered your belongings and prepared to leave, Jay rose from his seat and offered you a warm smile. "Well, yn, I had a really great time tonight," he said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle warmth that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you for the unexpected connection you had shared. "I did too, Jay," you replied, your voice soft with sincerity. "Thank you for such a wonderful evening."

As you made your way outside, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, Jay walked beside you in easy silence, his presence a reassuring presence at your side. The streets were quiet now, the bustling city fading into the background as you walked side by side, lost in your own thoughts.

When you finally reached your doorstep, you turned to face Jay, feeling a mixture of reluctance and anticipation swirling within you. "Well, this is me," you said with a hesitant smile, gesturing to the entrance of your building.

Jay nodded, his expression softening with a hint of regret. "Yeah, it is," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I wish we could stay out here all night."

You chuckled softly, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of saying goodbye so soon. "Me too," you admitted, your heart heavy with the weight of impending separation.

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the unspoken words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread. And then, without warning, Jay reached out to gently grasp your hand in his, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins.

"I really want to kiss you right now, yn," Jay said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of longing and respect. "But I don't want to rush things. I want to take things slow, and I want to make sure you feel comfortable every step of the way."

His words were like a balm to your weary heart, a reminder that not all men were like the ones who had hurt you in the past. And as you looked into Jay's eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity and kindness reflected back at you, filling you with a sense of warmth and gratitude that you hadn't felt in a long time.

With a grateful smile, you squeezed Jay's hand gently, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his understanding and compassion. "Thank you, Jay," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I really appreciate that."

And as you stood there in the soft glow of the streetlights, the night stretching out before you like a canvas waiting to be painted, you knew that this unexpected encounter with Jay was just the beginning of a journey filled with hope, healing, and the promise of a love that was worth waiting for.

A few weeks had passed since your coffee date with Jay, and life had quickly resumed its hectic pace. Between work commitments, family obligations, and the occasional outing with friends, you found yourself swept up in a whirlwind of activity, the days blurring together in a haze of busyness and distraction.

Despite the outward appearance of normalcy, however, there was a lingering sense of restlessness that gnawed at the edges of your mind, a quiet unease that whispered of unresolved worries and unspoken fears. You had thrown yourself into your daily routines with a sense of determination and purpose, but beneath the surface, a part of you still felt adrift, searching for something elusive and intangible.

Your friends had noticed the change in you, their concerned glances and probing questions a constant reminder of the facade you had erected to shield yourself from their scrutiny. Terry, Chaeryoung, and Jake had all voiced their concerns, offering words of support and encouragement in their own unique ways, but you had brushed off their worries with a casual wave of your hand, insisting that you were fine and that there was nothing to be concerned about.

But deep down, you knew that wasn't entirely true. The truth was, you were struggling to keep up appearances, to maintain the facade of strength and resilience that you had carefully crafted to hide the vulnerability and uncertainty that lurked within. You were tired of pretending, tired of wearing a mask that no longer fit, but you didn't know how to let it go, how to break free from the chains that bound you to a life that felt increasingly hollow and unfulfilling.

It was on one such day, as you sat alone in your apartment, lost in a sea of thoughts and doubts, that there came a knock at your door. Startled from your reverie, you rose from your seat and made your way to the entrance, your heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find Jay standing on the other side, his expression a mixture of concern and determination. "Hey, yn," he said softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the turmoil that lay beneath the surface. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say or how to explain the maelstrom of emotions that churned within you. But as you looked into Jay's eyes, you saw nothing but warmth and understanding reflected back at you, and you felt a sudden surge of gratitude for his unwavering support and compassion.

With a nod, you stepped aside to let Jay into your apartment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between you. As he took a seat beside you on the couch, you felt a sense of relief wash over you at the prospect of finally opening up to someone who truly cared.

For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant rumble of traffic outside. And then, at last, Jay spoke, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"yn, I've noticed that you've been… distant lately," he began, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "And I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. Is everything okay?"

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke off your words. But before you could reply, Jay reached out to gently grasp your hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within you.

"You don't have to pretend with me, yn," Jay said softly, his voice filled with quiet understanding. "Whatever you're going through, whatever you're feeling… I'm here for you. You don't have to face it alone."

And in that moment, as you looked into Jay's eyes and saw the depth of his sincerity and compassion, you knew that you had found someone worth opening up to, someone who would stand by your side through thick and thin, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

With a grateful smile, you squeezed Jay's hand gently, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at the prospect of finally sharing your burdens with someone who truly cared. And as you began to open up to Jay, pouring out your fears and insecurities with a vulnerability you had never shown anyone before, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and optimism for the future.

In the days and weeks that followed, you found solace in the unwavering support and understanding of Jay, who stood by your side through every twist and turn of your journey. With his encouragement and guidance, you began to confront the demons of your past, slowly but surely breaking free from the chains that had bound you for so long.

Together, you navigated the highs and lows of life, sharing laughter and tears, triumphs and setbacks, as you embarked on a journey of self-discovery and healing. With Jay's love and support, you found the strength to confront your fears and insecurities head-on, embracing the challenges that lay before you with courage and resilience.

As your relationship with Jay blossomed and deepened, you found yourself constantly amazed by his thoughtfulness and consideration. Jay seemed to possess an innate understanding of your needs and boundaries, effortlessly navigating the intricacies of your heart with a sensitivity and empathy that left you feeling cherished and valued.

One evening, as you curled up on the couch together, lost in the pages of a book, Jay reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch light and tender against your skin. You looked up to find him gazing at you with an expression of quiet adoration, his eyes filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter with affection.

Without a word, Jay leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin in a silent promise of love and devotion. And in that moment, as you felt the weight of his affection wash over you like a soothing balm, you knew with a certainty that this was where you belonged, in the arms of a man who loved you unconditionally, flaws and all.

In the days and weeks that followed, Jay continued to show his affection in the small but meaningful ways that spoke volumes of his love for you. Whether it was leaving notes of encouragement tucked into your lunch bag, surprising you with your favorite meal after a long day, or simply wrapping you in a warm embrace when you needed it most, Jay's gestures never failed to brighten your day and fill your heart with joy.

But what touched you most deeply was the way Jay always respected your boundaries and comfort levels, never pushing you to do anything you weren't ready for or comfortable with. Instead, he met you where you were, showering you with love and affection in the ways that felt most natural and comfortable to you.

And as you snuggled close to Jay on the couch, his arms wrapped protectively around you, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the man who had come into your life and filled it with so much love and happiness. With Jay by your side, you knew that you were truly blessed, and you vowed to cherish every moment you shared together, knowing that the love you had found was a rare and precious gift that would last a lifetime.

And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, you found yourself growing stronger and more confident with each passing day, no longer defined by the scars of your past but by the boundless possibilities of your future.

In Jay, you found not only a lover but a confidant, a partner who shared your hopes and dreams, fears and insecurities, and who stood by your side through thick and thin. Together, you forged a bond that was stronger than any obstacle, a love that transcended the trials and tribulations of life.

One evening, as you sat together on the balcony, watching the sun dip below the horizon in a blaze of fiery colors, you found yourselves lost in conversation, sharing your deepest thoughts and feelings with a vulnerability and honesty that only strengthened the bond between you.

"I never thought I'd find someone like you, yn," Jay said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "Someone who truly understands me, who accepts me for who I am, flaws and all."

You turned to look at Jay, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "I feel the same way, Jay," you replied, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "You've shown me a kind of love and acceptance that I never knew was possible, and for that, I'm eternally grateful."

As you sat together in companionable silence, the soft murmur of the city below providing a soothing backdrop to your conversation, you felt a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket. With Jay by your side, you knew that you could weather any storm that came your way, knowing that his love and support would always be there to guide you through.

And as the stars began to twinkle overhead, casting their gentle glow upon you both, you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Jay's lips, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man who had come into your life and filled it with so much joy and happiness. With Jay by your side, you knew that anything was possible, and you vowed to cherish every moment you shared together, knowing that your love was a bond that would last a lifetime.

And as you looked towards the horizon, your heart filled with gratitude for the unexpected twists and turns that had led you to this moment, you knew that with Jay by your side, the future held endless promise and possibility.

With a smile on your lips and a lightness in your heart, you stepped forward into the unknown, ready to embrace whatever adventures awaited you, knowing that as long as you had Jay by your side, you could weather any storm that came your way.

And so, as the sun set on one chapter of your life and rose on the next, you took Jay's hand in yours, ready to embark on a new journey filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

For in Jay, you had found not only a partner but a soulmate, a kindred spirit who had walked through fire and brimstone to stand by your side, and for that, you would be eternally grateful.

And as you walked hand in hand into the sunset, the echoes of your laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of the wind, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

And so, with hearts full of hope and love, you stepped forward into the unknown, ready to embrace whatever adventures awaited you, knowing that as long as you had each other, the future held endless promise and possibility.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enhypen x reader #enha #jake #jay #jongseong #park jongseong #jongseong fluff #enhypen jongseong #jongseong x reader #jaeyun

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soap-ify · 4 months

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nsfw below , mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.

03 — i'm sorry i'm the one you love.

chapter summary — a visit to simon's place after finding out that he's sick was definitely not the best idea.

tags / cw — some fluff, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, suicidal thoughts, major self deprecating thoughts, heavy themes, simon's past, simon fucks up royally, reader has anxiety, simon can't communicate for his life, some nsfw. [3.1k words]

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Simon’s immunity to being sick was one of those traits about himself he was the most proud of.

But oh well, maybe he wasn’t completely immune.

Queasy stomach, constricted nose, trembling muscles — Simon would rather die, ironically enough. He hated this feeling, made him feel like an imposter in his own body, wanting to crawl out of this mess that left him nauseous.

He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten sick. Maybe it was the horribly cold weather in the place the taskforce had pinpointed one of the targets at. Or maybe it was the drunk woman who was all over him in the bar they went to after the mission was over. God, that woman.

An uneasy pit formed in his stomach as he thought about that night, that woman pinned beneath him as he—

Fuck it. He didn’t want to think about the details. All he knew that he kept on thinking about you while he was fucking her, and it only made him want to rip his skin off even more. You. You were probably waiting for him at your home, wondering if he was safe. Alive even.

The mission had gotten extended due to some issues, and he was just so fucking frustrated and tired. That woman was just… there, flirting with him so shamelessly, and he was too exhausted to stop her, thinking that she might somehow fill the void in his chest, or even give some temporary solace to how lonely and isolated he felt despite being around everyone else.

He was so wrong. Every thrust into that woman felt like being restrained, as if hands were gripping onto his throat tight, mocking at his incapability of coming to proper solutions to his damn problems. He felt trapped, chains tying him as he dissociated more and more.

That woman was sickeningly satisfied that night, and Simon just felt more and more ill, confused and lost amidst the overwhelming storm that raged inside his head. Was he guilty? He wasn’t even dating you. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t fucked anyone else since meeting you, other than this. You made him forget others.

No, it wasn’t guilt. Well, it was but there was something more too.

It was just that Simon became more and more self aware of how noxious he had become to himself. His own doom.

Anyways, it was probably the cold weather that made him sick.

Now back in his shitty apartment after five weeks, all he cared about was getting some damn medicines and sleeping it off, and trying not to think about you.

Which was hard, too hard. You had somehow built your own corner in his head, started living there too. Permanently? Probably. He knew he should tell you that he’s back, but again, does he really ever tell you anything?

A cough escaped him and he groaned in annoyance, the urge to just suffocate himself with his pillow really strong.

Kyle was an angel, really.

“The mission was so exhausting. Problems here and there.” He groaned, tipping his head back while lounging on your couch, opening up the small box of chocolates he had bought for you. “Try it, mate. Got it at the airport.” He grinned, tossing you one piece of wrapped chocolate. You undid it and tossed it in your mouth, immediately feeling the sweet ball of chocolate melting at your tongue, a happy noise escaping your throat.

“Holy shit.” You gasped in awe, earning a knowing chuckle from Kyle.

You were sitting with your legs crossed, constantly shifting and fidgeting, your sock-clad feet somewhat restless as you tried to resist the urge to ask about Simon.

Though it seemed that your mouth worked faster than your brain.

“How’s Simon?” You asked, voice a bit strained and you suddenly regretted every single thing in your life.

Kyle was a bit surprised that you were asking about his gloomy Lieutenant out of everyone else, though he didn’t question it, not an ounce of suspicion on his face. “Sick.” A snort left him before he could hold it back, a hand coming to cover his mouth as he snickered. “He was so mad ‘bout it. You should’ve seen him.”

Sick? Truth be told, you had never considered the possibility of Simon getting sick. The concept just seemed so… foreign? Maybe you had just always thought of him as something else. That creepy balaclava never helped.

A sudden overwhelming wave of worry churned in your stomach, your fingernails digging into your palm while you swallowed the lump in your throat, your brain desperately trying to hold onto the scattered rush of thoughts and form a plan somehow. You weren’t even that mad at him for ghosting you or not indicating anything about his return. He was sick.

“That sucks…” You awkwardly replied, biting your inner cheek.

As soon as Kyle was gone, you grabbed your jacket and keys, leaving your apartment too with only one place in mind.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Simon’s voice was sickeningly hoarse, and he didn’t look any better — pale hair all messy and the dark circles around his eyes a bit more prominent, a black surgical mask covering his mouth while he coughed a bit. You don’t think you’d ever properly seen his hair before fully except a few strands. You liked it.

He looked at you standing at the front door of his apartment, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours that were full of concern, a plastic bag in your hands that seemingly contained some vegetables, some meds and other food. Shit, I should have tidied up my place, his brain screamed at him.

“Kyle told me you were sick. I got worried.” You mumbled sheepishly.

Of course it was Kyle. Simon tried hard to not click his tongue and nodded reluctantly, stepping aside so you could get in.

“You shouldn’t be standing and walking around, Si…” You frowned, quickly putting the plastic bag on the kitchen counter. Before he could even protest, you were already gently pushing onto his chest, trying to make him move until he sighed and sniffled, letting you push him into his bedroom.

“You don’t have to, love.” He grumbled weakly and proceeded to lay on his bed, watching you pull his blanket over him, disappearing out of the room for a moment before coming back with a bowl of cold water and a towel, gently beginning to dab the wet towel on his burning forehead.

Simon felt… weird. A part of him felt embarrassed for letting someone else take care of him, someone as sweet and kind as you, someone who genuinely cared. He was used to being the one always watching out for others, making sure his teammates were safe and sound.

And the other part of him felt so nice — the part that had just been trapped in there ever since he dug himself out of that damn grave years ago, the stench of the rotting corpse still vivid in his head. The real Simon. You were making that part of him feel loved even if you weren’t aware of it.

He doesn’t remember when was the last time he felt so comforted. And it terrified him, this feeling of warmth that was spreading in his chest, a feeling he had somewhat started loathing at some point in the past few years.

But he wanted it more, wanted it like a starved dog wandering in a street, wanted it like a man needing water. And he was scared that this need of his would terrify you — that you’ll catch him ravenous and berserk, devouring your love, or even you, in such a manner that will make you shriek and leave him forever. Leave him after learning who he truly was. Disturbed. An Outcast. An unwanted dog.

Not a man, never a man.

A cough rumbled from his throat, and you left the wet towel resting on his forehead, your hand reaching down to rub his chest through his shirt in circular motions. “I’ll make some soup for you.” You mumbled softly, the urge to press a soft kiss in between his brows strong. But you couldn’t do it. He would probably hate it anyway.

You pulled away and looked at him one more time before leaving his bedroom, ready to make some warm soup for him with the groceries you bought for him.

This allowed him to close his eyes for a few minutes, trying to cancel out the loud buzzing in his head. Though that wasn’t a good option too, really, but there was nothing else he could do. Sleep never came to him anyways.

First it was just darkness, the only sounds in the bedroom being of his slightly heavy breathing, soft sniffles leaving him. Then it came slowly, images flashing in his head. Brutal and unforgiving. Blood, bodies, knives, guns, shouts, his family, Tommy, Beth, everyone. A meat hook, a scar, more scars, Roba, his father.

His father.

“Soup’s ready!”

His eyes snapped open as soon as he heard your melodic voice from the kitchen, soft footsteps drawing closer to the bedroom. Sweat had formed on the back of his neck as he panted heavily, clearing his throat. Clear your damn head.

“Here you go.” You walked into the bedroom, a warm bowl of soup in your hands as you gently placed it on the nightstand beside him.

Simon sat up on the bed and gave you a silent nod of gratitude, grabbing the bowl of soup, fiddling with the spoon, eyes elsewhere. He couldn’t meet your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and naked.

You shifted on your feet, a small smile moving up on your lips once he finally took a taste of the soup, happy to not see any sign of disgust on his features. You knew he wasn’t going to show that he liked the soup anyways. These were the little things you took note of, the subtle relaxation in his brows and the content sigh that escaped his mouth.

Minutes passed by and you managed to sit on a chair nearby his bed, silence lingering in the room while your eyes looked around, taking in just how bleak everything was. White walls, grey sheets, a severe lack of pictures or literally anything on the wall.

The only thing you could find was the little picture of him and the rest of the taskforce hung on the wall. It was sweet. The four guys were on a beach — Johnny having a beaming grin on his lips while Kyle had an annoyed one, trying to get the other’s hand off his ticklish sides. John had a cute big smile that highlighted his cheeks and the scrunch of his nose, like a quokka. And then there was Simon, face covered by the balaclava, classic. Though he didn’t appear to be brooding or anything, no. Instead, his eyes held a relieved and satisfied look. Transient happiness. The skin of his exposed torso was all flushed, and you could barely hold in a smile.

“Do you burn?” You asked, trying to hide the subtle amusement in your voice.

“No, I tan.” His hoarse voice replied, taking another sip of the soup, sounding so damn serious despite the lie. Typical Simon.

Silence soon filled the room once again, though it didn’t really feel comforting as it usually was between you too, sometimes. It seemed tense and thick, your right leg bouncing up and down restlessly. Restless for what? You wanted to do something, but you didn’t know what that something was. Everything just felt so odd today, so distant. Even with the little banter here and there, something seemed wrong.

“Um…” You finally managed to croak out, clearing your throat before looking at him. “There’s a new ice cream parlor that just opened around the street recently, and people seem to like it quite well. Would you like to go there sometime?” You asked with the little courage you had gathered in the past few minutes. Basically asking him out on a date, playing with the fire. But maybe it would help cheer him up, right?

He was silent for a while, and you momentarily thought that he didn’t hear you before he finally spoke, voice devoid of any emotion.

“No.”

Silence. Somehow more agonising than before. Heat spread through your cheeks and ears, an uncomfortable heat that made you feel too ashamed and humiliated, too weak and shocked. No. There were no signs of hesitation in his voice, and your mouth began working faster than your brain, anxiety simmering beneath the surface.

“O-Of course not now… When you’re not sick.”

“Still a no.”

You swallow the heavy lump in your throat, your heartbeat accelerating while your fingernails begin digging into your palm, breathing becoming all the more shallow. Were you annoying him? Please don’t speak, don’t make him more angry. Don’t say anything else, don’t breathe, don’t—

“Why are you being like this?”

Your strained question finally made Simon look at you, his stare too callous. The heat was unbearable, and you almost struggled to breath, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him, feeling the itchy sensation spreading through your skin. Inhale, exhale, inh—

“You don’t ever shut up, do you?” He threw a question back at you, though it was rhetorical and just cruel. Too cruel. Were you really talking too much? Your mouth quickly shut at that, breath catching in your throat, confusion and uncertainty screaming through every little action of yours.

Your heart felt too heavy, begging to run out of your chest, leave you abandoned or just simply run for its life, find some sort of freedom and solace. Your throat tightened up, restricting you from saying anything. But Simon would like it, yeah?

Simon saw it, the consequences of his words written bright and clear on your face, your shy smiles and little jokes being replaced by… that, horror and hurt etched on your pretty face. If he could somehow reach for the knife stuffed beneath his bed in front of you, he would and do something about this fucking mess that he had become.

Those words came out of his mouth in the spur of the moment — the headache and congested nose, the sick feeling in his chest and then your genuine care — everything was too overwhelming. Why are you even wasting your time over someone as damaged as me?

He hated it, hated how the more overwhelmed he’d get, the more he’d snap and say shit he never meant. He didn't know how he’d become like this, maybe because of the shouts he always heard when he was still a rookie, maybe how everyone prioritized strength and anger so much to be seen in the battleground, to be strong and good at your work. The military really did train him into a violent dog, didn’t it?

Or maybe he was one ever since he came out of his mother’s womb.

But Simon wasn’t going to show the vulnerability seeping into his being. Not yet, probably not ever.

You couldn’t meet Simon’s stare any longer, your eyes looking up at the ceiling, tears already prickling at the edges of her eyes, and it stung.

“I just want to sleep. I don’t need you here.” He spoke in a way that came out more as a cold hiss while he clenched his jaw behind his surgical mask, and it made your resolve even weaker, fighting back your tears and trying not to flinch once slammed the empty bowl on the nightstand, proceeding to lay back down on the bed and pull the covers all over him.

He doesn’t need you here.

You sniffled softly and nodded to no one in particular, walking over to his bed and gently patting his shoulder through the blanket. “Get well soon, Simon… I left the meds on the kitchen counter.” You spoke, unable to hide the way your voice cracked.

And just like that, you walked out of his apartment, pretending to ignore the ache in your heart.

Pretending to have not noticed the random tiny bottle of perfume laying on the couch. The perfume clearly did not belonging to him.

You didn’t like walking through the streets. There were always too many people around, making your clutch the ends of your sleeves tight and quicken your steps up.

But today, all you could see were the happy couples, smiling and holding hands. Young, old, married, dating. It was so sweet that it made you want to cry and plead for some love too, something that would make you forget about the cracks forming in your heart and the loneliness creeping behind you like a ghost. Literally.

You had come to the conclusion that there was probably something wrong with you that just made you so… So unlovable? Was it how anxious you were? How talkative you’d get? How you’d just speak without thinking?

Why can’t Simon and you be one of the couples holding hands right now? Walking through the streets and giggling at some awful jokes he’d make, spending time together, being in love.

As soon as you reached your home, you collapsed on your bed and let the tears finally fall down your cheeks, a silent pained sob escaping your lips. It hurt, it hurt so bad. You hated it, you went over there to check up on Simon, not anger him.

You hated him, he was so mean to you. But you loved him too. Loved him like the ocean loved the moon, always staring at it in awe, wanting to get closer but never reaching it.

You hated that fucking perfume you spotted in his apartment. Probably belonging to some other woman. Did Simon call her ‘love’ too? You know there was no point in feeling so mad when the agreement was clearly ‘no strings attached’ — no catching feelings. But you somehow always managed to fail at this kind of stuff.

You choked on your sobs and curled up on your bed, too exhausted and tired, hands reaching out to grab the stuffed toy you had and clutching it tight against your chest, breathing heavily, wanting it to somehow ease the storm brewing within you, every sound coming out of you more painful than before.

“I just wanna sleep…” You whimpered to yourself, closing your eyes while the tears uncomfortably slid down the bridge of your nose in this position. Simon’s words.

Sleep and just get lost in a world where you’d be happier, in a world where you weren’t struggling with everything.

Sleep and somehow disappear.

notes — the demons really won with this one.

#simon and reader really can't have anything good #my peak evil moment #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #call of duty #yaaiad : masterlist #rurufic

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delcakoo · 1 year

Text

i wish i was a baller ₊✩˚⊹ c.yj

ty @yenqa bae for the idea <3

SUMMARY ! being his longtime crush, when yeonjun and his pesky friends’ catch you walking past the court, he’s quick to try an impress you with one (un)lucky shot on hoop in exchange for your number.

PAIRING ! yeonjun x f!reader

WC ! 1.3k

GENRE ! cavity inducing fluff

a/n: c’mon now u have to listen to i wish after readin that title c:

“shit, look who it is yeonjun!”

the male in question was much too busy shouldering soobin to the ground, dribbling past his now groaning friend before slam-dunking his favorite orange ball through the hoop to listen to lame, old, beomgyu.

“let’s go!” yeonjun punches the air, running by his teammates to offer them high fives that they halfheartedly return. “another point for the yeonjunniez!”

“horrible fuckin’ team name,” taehyun murmurs, while kai only nods in tired agreement.

before yeonjun could force the group into another scrimmage, a strong hand grips his shoulder, redirecting him to face a barely visible figure that’s only steps away from reaching the basketball court’s end. beomgyu squeezes tighter, shaking him back and forth slightly. “don’t ignore me! you recognise who that is, right man?” squinting his eyes, yeonjun gasps as he takes in the familiar sight of your signature hairstyle and white headphones.

oh, he knew it was you alright. even if it was pitch black out — only street lamps illuminating the shady pathways — and you were clearly wearing all dark shades to blend in more, he knew.

“‘course, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t know my girl when i see her?”

soobin, who’s still brushing off pebbles after his dramatic fall, rolls his eyes at the straight fibs coming out of his friend’s lips. “she barely knows you exist.”

“not for long.” before anyone could stop him or make him think at the very least, yeonjun has himself pressed against the chained wall of the court, fingers noisily locking through the metal in an attempt to grasp your attention. “y/n, is that you?”

when you swiftly turn at the sound of your name, looking adorably like a deer caught in headlights, yeonjun is reminded of just how head over heels he is.

“yeonjun..?” he’s never been so thankful to mr. sim assigning partners for projects, or else you still wouldn’t know your future boyfriend’s name! you look past him to take in the other boys who send you awkward waves, and yeonjun glares in annoyance at each and every one of them. what shitty wingmen.

“uh, yeah.. so, what’re you doing out here alone?”

with one more glance around the empty park, yeonjun nearly squeals as you begin walking closer, shoving your phone into your hoodie pocket smoothly. “j-just clearing my head i guess. what about you guys?” your stuttering gives him hope that perhaps you’re just as nervous as he is right now — leading a small smirk to etch across the boy’s lips.

“practising extra late since tryouts open soon,” he replies, gesturing to his friend group in the background. “they all kinda suck though.”

“thanks!” beomgyu spits back, but yeonjun could care less about his sarcastic comeback when it resulted in you letting out a soft chuckle. that was him by the way — he made you laugh!

in an attempt to give yeonjun more one on one time with you, the others had attempted to go back to playing (while still eavesdropping of course), but it was clear that their friend needed a little shove in the right direction.

taehyun moves closer, adjusting his black muscle top while offering you a mischievous grin. “say, y/n. if yeonjun here gets a three pointer, would you consider giving him your number?”

besides kai’s howling laughter in the distance, the court is frozen in tension, more specifically yeonjun — who’s jaw has practically dropped to his ass. this was not part of the plan, taehyun! attempting to bandage the wound, the raven haired boy smacks his friend, hoping the expression on your poor, confused face would falter at least a bit.

his ears burn bright red, and he can only pray the hood of his grey coat is deep enough to hide it. “i uh- sorry about that, you don’t— you don’t have to do anything—“

too busy manifesting some way to travel back in time and tape taehyun’s mouth shut, yeonjun fails to notice the amused smile creeping its way to your lips. “no, it’s okay. you can try if you want.”

soobin and beomgyu share a horrified glance, just how is this working?

yeonjun blinks, holding a bewildered yet determined look in his pupils. “i— you mean like, to shoot?” he blabbers in disbelief.

you shrug. “why not?” and before he knows it, the ball is forced into his grip by a snickering soobin, who attempts to relieve his friend’s shoulders that are tenser than he’s ever seen them with a swift massage.

little did he know that you found it almost as endearing as the way yeonjun’s teeth nibble onto his bottom lip as he gets into position, crouching with precision before jumping, releasing the basketball with a flick of his wrists.

the orange ball flies for a bit before landing right on the hoop’s ring, bouncing across it loudly, spinning around for a bit before—

“shit..” beomgyu murmurs in horror, watching how the ball flops pathetically off the side of the ring along with the other five pairs of eyes.

yeonjun refuses to believe this.

sinking down to his knees, nails frustratingly glide through his bangs while a pained groan leaves his lips. “i didn’t miss a single fucking shot earlier,” he winces, “but of course when it actually matters i fuck up.”

god, he was so cute — it was all you could think to yourself as you paced closer, squatting next to the boy’s destressed form all while lightly patting his shoulder. when yeonjun lifts his head, his eyes widen at the closeness of your face being mere centimetres from his. for a second, he thinks he might just pass out on the spot, up until you pull out a pen from your pocket, grinning cutely as usual.

when you open up your palm, it takes him a minute to realize you were asking for his hand.

ever so carefully, yeonjun places his hand in your grasp, breath stuttering at the feeling of his crush’s fingers wrapping comfortingly around his wrist. “what- what are you..” he gulps when you bend a bit closer to begin scribbling something right across the softness of his pale skin, glancing up at his friend’s with a face of utter disbelief who only give him an equally gobsmacked look in return.

suddenly, you’re releasing him and standing back to full height, pen being shoved casually into the embrace of your black hoodie as if you hadn’t just narrowly avoided giving the poor boy a heart attack moments prior. “yeonjun, i was gonna give it to you either way,” you snort.

wait, what? did he just go through the five stages of grief for nothing?

all he can do is watch with eyes gaped as you slowly march back towards the entrance, only snapping out of it when beomgyu pulls his arm up to investigate the nine numbers inked across his hand. “bro.. you did it.” he states it as if yeonjun had just solved world hunger, shaking his friend frantically.

“i.. i did it?” he repeats dumbly.

it seems as though he can’t get a break; now soobin’s the one pushing him towards the entrance. “go on, dipshit!” he exclaims, “it’s pitch black out there, walk her home!”

this has yeonjun’s expression changing from dumbstruck to full on panic, nearly tripping on his own shoelaces as he sprints out to catch up to your now-far-away form, grey hood falling off and finally revealing his bright red ears in the process.

there was no doubt that he looked insane — lighting or not. “she has him wrapped around her finger, huh?” kai can’t help but cackle once more.

soobin takes a shot, easily making a dunk with the help of his height before sighing in agreement. “oh, absolutely.”

if you enjoyed, reblogs and feedback’s always appreciated <3

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr @kynrki @yujiecho @monstaxdirtywonk @dekusgirl @taejays @luvhyun3 @yjjungwon @miou45 @rosie-is-everywhere @yenqa @rosenatorfirst @millsielovesgyu @syrxiee2 @ily-cuz-i @soobin-chois @wtfhyuck @hoonvrs @gyuuberryy @bucketofhiros @xtra-cheese @vmprshlvr

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months

Text

Heartbeat

A short fluff for BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge.

Prompt: Snow&Ice

Tags: fluff, pregnancy

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion gasps as the freezing grasp of the nightmare lets him go. He doesn't remember what exactly decided to torment his mind this time, but it wasn't anything pleasant, that's for sure.

For a few seconds, Astarion can't understand where he is. It's a dark room with a low wooden ceiling. The blizzard howls, threatening to freeze to death anyone who dares step outside.

"Hm?", he hears a sweet sleepy voice. Gentle hands wrap around his body. "Nightmares again?"

Astarion turns his face to you. The warmth of your body returns him to reality, washing away the dirt of the cruel visions.

"It's all right", he whispers back. "Sleep."

You adjust yourself to his body, intertwining your legs with his and placing your head on his chest. You are so close he can hear blood streaming through your veins.

Before, he could ask you for blood. But not now.

Your rounded belly rests on his stomach. Your half-elven body easily betrays your pregnancy - it's visible to everyone with eyes.

And Astarion is scared. That is probably what came to him in the nightmare. Something about this thing that's so natural for mortals and so unnatural for the undead.

Pregnancy.

He caresses the belly trying to concentrate on something else. On something good.

But, gods know, it's difficult.

"Astarion, you are starving. You need to go on a hunt", you whisper to him, finally opening your eyes.

"I didn't know you were so eager to become a single mother", he chuckles. "It's too cold even for me"

"Maybe you will ask someone in the town? They will gladly share animal blood with you."

"Trust me, they tolerate me only because not once in these five years I've tried to feed on something that belongs to them. Vampires can live without food for years, love. I can wait at least a day before the blizzard ends."

You sigh and tug him closer. He can see your freckles, these gorgeous sunmarks. Red hair. Half-elven ears.

He still can't fathom this idea. It's something abstract, unreal. Just a word without a meaning. Your body is changing. Sometimes you have such insane mood swings he has no idea what to do. And you feel so delicate in his arms that he is afraid to hurt you.

"Are you afraid?", you finally ask.

"Yes. I am."

A pleasant silence falls once again.

"Me too. Considering how shitty my own mother was, it's not like I have a healthy maternity example. On the bright side, I have a very clear idea of what I am not supposed to do with an innocent child."

"It will probably be a dhampir, love. Aren't you afraid of that? That it's just a monster inside you?"

"I willingly went to bed with you. What else would I expect?"

You hug him tight and he is lost in your breathing and the heartbeat. So alive. So kind. So brave.

He willingly went to bed with someone whose weapon of choice is a two-handed axe he can't even lift. Someone who could easily pet a dragon. What else did he expect? Of course you aren't afraid of monsters.

But it doesn't mean he isn't scared of the future to come.

"I am cold", you suddenly say.

"I am sorry", he tries to pull away - his cold body isn't a great source of warmth.

"Don't move!" you tighten your muscles not allowing him to go.

"I will make you colder."

"So what?"

He gives up and keeps enjoying your warmth. Does the baby have this warmth, too? Or it's more undead than mortal? It bugs Astarion that he hasn't found any information on how the pregnancy is supposed to progress if the child is a dhampir.

Does it even have a heartbeat?

It seems like you have fallen asleep once again. He smiles, studying your face in the dark.

The sound of a blizzard lulls him so is your breathing. Nothing to be afraid of. The past is past, no matter how horrible it was.

And then Astarion hears another sound.

He can't understand what this is and is surprised that your heartbeat feels so weak.

Then he hears yours, loud and stong.

And the other one, weak and hardly identified by his sharp senses.

It seems like he flinches because you are awake again.

"What is it?"

Astarion sits up and puts his hands on the belly. The tears flow down his pale face and he doesn't try to wipe them away.

"My love, what happened?" you reach out for his curls and touch the tip of the right ear.

"I-", the words are stuck in his throat. "It's the heartbeat. I can hear our child's heartbeat!"

Astarion tugs you closer for a kiss. He laughs joyfully, muttering words of gratitude in Elven as if forgetting how to speak Common all of a sudden.

You spend what looks like an eternity in each other arms. Then, you pull away a bit.

"Astarion. I am so sorry to ruin the moment but I am dying of hunger, too. Can we go downstairs? I will fetch something for myself and the baby."

He chuckles. "Don't be ridiculous, darling. You stay in the warmth under the blanket and I will cook for you."

"You?" you laugh innocently. You've been together for twenty years and Astarion rarely has to cook only if you fell so sick he has to feed you.

"Well, I suppose our child won't drink blood. So, I have a few more months to learn how to prepare food."

"At least let me help you before you burn the house", you reach out for him and he lifts you in the air. "Will you get me back on my feet?"

"No, why should I?"

You put your head on his chest. "All right, then. Carry us downstairs, my beautiful husband!"

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster@astarion-beloved@lumienyx @fayeriess@elora-the-slutty-songstress@veillsar@astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea@herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashiro20 @not-so-lost-after-alll @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy @tugoslovenka

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lvvcian · 8 months

Note

hello!! :D this is my first request ever so im sorry if i worded it or did it wrong. also english is not my first language so im sorry if this makes no sense.

i have a request for The disastrous life of saiki k with a romantic saiki x reader(gender neutral) pairing.

Heres my idea! so aiura and toritsuka start seeing some girl constantly following saiki during school and aiura and toritsuka are like “😨⁉️ lets help him get away from this stalker!” so aiura and toritsuka start doing dumb goofy stuff to sabotage the reader from following saiki and in the end it is revealed that saiki and the reader are dating so reader and saiki have been talking telepathically so it just LOOKS like the reader has been tailing saiki. so yea basically crack fic💀

maybe as a little bonus you could include some fluff between saiki and reader<3

────────────────────

☆ aaah the famous trio <3 also first Saiki fic, very happy about it c:

☆ I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG :'C it's 1:33am here, so I'm sorry if the ending is shitty , no energy fr but wanted to finish this today ":/

☆ (tw! slight bulling and not cool jokes ; swearing) ; gender neutral reader , fluff, crack fic ; Saiki has longer hair in here! Just a lil bit :)

☆ saiki talking normally ; saiki speaking in your mind ; your thoughts

☆ enjoy <3

"Do you think we should tell some people about... y'know" You looked up at Saiki. It was a normal sunday and you two were supposed to have a so called 'date' (which was sitting in comfortable silence at some cafe and enjoying each others company). But the weather had some other plans and once you stepped outside it started to rain. Of course Saiki could've change it in matter of seconds but he suggested to stay at home. They were too many people from his school on the mainstreet anyway.

"And draw attention to ourselves? Definitly not. We just have to keep the distance between us for school time ..." Saiki looked down at you. Who would've thought that Saiki out of all people would be the first to have a partner. "Enjoy while you can... I'll teleport you on the roof if you hug me at school..." you just giggled and snuggled up closer into his chest.

It couldn't be that bad... right?

──────────────────── ☆

Monday mornings weren't your favourite, at all. Shitty weather, cold shower and not so great breakfast. It was all making you fell even worse then you felt already.

It wasn't something natural for you to wake up in the middle of the night, but today your body felt extremely stressed. Something didn't let you sleep, your thoughts were going miles per hour and you could feel your whole body getting colder with every second (which was weird 'cause the temperature in the room was pretty high).

So you got up, rolled yourself in a blanket and went to close your window hoping it would get at least warmer, but as you walked up to it and started opening it...

"Holy shit..!" You backed away from the wall and fell on your back. There's was something standing right outside your window. It was horrible, like a ghost or a monster. It didn't matter at that time, you quickly run up to to window again and looked around your backyard.

There wasn't a single soul, just a stray cat walking around. You sat down on the floor and hold your face trying to calm yourself down.

After few minutes you were finally feeling better and decided to go back to sleep. At least try.

You were near PK Academy when you saw your lovely psychic and two other people. If you remember correctly one was a medium and the other... fortune teller?

"Its... Aiura and Toritsuka if I'm not mistaken. Should I say hi? Or just-"

"Don't do anything. They're already being very suspicious of you. Just walk past us as normal as you can. I'll meet with you at lunch." It wasn't something new for you to hear Saiki in your head. You didn't know why he was communicating like that, but you accepted it after a while.

"Sure, see you later then. I love you!" you saw Saiki close his eyes and shake his head a little, but you could see a faint smile forming on his lips

Giggling you walked past the trio with a small smile and went inside the building. Quickly you changed your shoes for school ones and headed to your classroom. You greeted some people on the way, saying 'hi' or just nodding at them.

Soon you saw Saiki entering the room too with Aiura. He looked at you, gave you a soft and quick smile and sat not far away from you.

──────────────────── ☆

Around 2pm lunch break started. Saiki immediatly left the classroom, avoiding his friends and went to your meeting spot, which was next to vending machines near the caffeteria.

As he got there, you were nowhere to be seen. He saw you packing your things and leaving right after him so he thought you would be there in few seconds.

Few seconds turned into few minutes and then into half of the break.

"Where are they... they couldn't forget about it, right?" Saiki checked his phone for second time, scrolling through your messages and refreshing them. Even if you'd be late he would got a text about it, but there was nothing.

He tried to focus on your thoughts, but it was immposible with so many people around. He sighed at went to bathroom, locked himself in one of the cabins and used his 'crossed eye thingy' as you called it.

"What...?" He got up and teleported to you, making sure no one was around. You were sitting on the ground, all wet and cold, in one of the hallways. Your clothes were all soaked which made you shiver and Saiki knew you'd be sick in few days.

"What happened? Why are you sitting here all wet?" He said and kneeled next to you as he took your face in his hands, holding it gently. "Are you... crying?" He asked, but your lack of answer told him everything. He took your hand, helped you get up and brushed off some of wet hair from your face.

He held you tightly as he teleported you to your room. Saiki went to your wardrobe, grabbed some dry clothes and a towel and then went back to you. He started to gently dry your hair and your cheeks from tears. You were looking everywhere but not him, which made him worried.

"y/n, what is it? What happened, please tell me." He kneeled down and looked at you with soft gaze. You looked away and closed your eyes.

"I went to get some documents for teacher... I forgot to tell you about it. I-I don't know how... some stupid bucket of water was on the door to the class." Saiki noded and rubbed your back as he sat next to you. He thought for a second and shook his head.

"Just... stay here, ok? I'll go make you some tea" Saiki got up and went to the kitchen. He didn't care about school right now, he would deal with that later.

Day passed with sometimes even worse 'jokes' and incidents. Sometimes it was missing shoes, sometimes weird notes. At night you felt this weird feeling of being watched as cold air got into your house. You woke up with cold sweat on your face from nightmares and night terrors.

Saiki heard about everything, comforting you day after day. He didn't know why it happened, weirdly he couldn't find any person with thoughts of making another prank to you. It pissed him off a lot.

"I'm staying at home for few days... you can come meet me after classes." You said to Saiki as you covered yourself under the blankets. The temperature in your house was incredibly low which made you wear your warmest hoodie and cuddle into the softest and thickest blanket at your place.

"I'll be there soon..." Saiki answered. His voice was cold , but you could swear you heard some concern in it. You chuckled and buried yourself in the blanket.

Saiki was getting closer to the bathroom, making sure no one followed him or saw him. He could become invisible, but that would take too much time.

As he went inside one of the cabins, he took out his phone and checked his messages. There were few of yours, he could tell you were really bored, one from his mom and one from Aiura.

"Aiura? What does she want now...?" Saiki opened the chat, read the message and sighed. She wanted him to help out with something. "Good grief, right now?" He grumbled while texting you that he would be later.

Future teller told him to come behind the school. He got there and looked at her with bored eyes. It was a really pain in the neck to help with some irrelevant things...

"What is it?" He said with neutral and cold tone.

"Oh! Finally you're here! We need some help to... hang something." She said as she looked up.

"We?" Pink haired boy asked, quickly realising who was the other person. He rolled his eyes annoyed. He should be there with you by now... but no, he's stuck with two idiots behind the school. "Nevermind... I don't care, it's your problem."

He started walking away, not listening to Aiuras pleading and some offers (although they did grab his interests for a second or two). He shook his head and was already next to school corner.

"Saiki it's for your good! We're doing this to help you!" Kusuo heard another, not really pleasant, voice from above. "We've seen someone smiling and looking at you all the time! It's giving a creep vibe, you know?"

Toritsuka looked at Saiki from the top of the rooftop. Psychic stopped walking and looked at them both with confused look. "Stalking? What are you talking about..?"

"You didn't see it? There's this one creep whose staring at you in every class! They smile randomly when looking at you and sometimes even blushing! It's just... Ew!" auira said as she got closer to saiki. He frowned a little.

"Me and Mikoto have been making some pranks from time to time. One time we've scared them at night! I asked some ghost for help and spooked them!" Toritsuka chuckled, remembering the look on your scared face.

Saiki didn't say anything, he only grabbed his friends by the shoulders harshly and teleported them to your place.

"O-Oi Saiki! What are you doing man?" He didn't answer, only knocked gently on your door. He could've teleported directly to your room, but he didn't want to scare you with... his nuisances.

You jumped a little as you heard soft knocking.

"Probably saiki." You got up, still cuddled up in a blanket and went to the door. "Finally you-" You cut your sentence as you saw your boyfriend holding his two friends by their shoulders tightly. " Kusuo why are your friends with you?"

He didn't say anything, just got inside your place and leading his friends to the living room. You didn't know what was going on at.all. Saiki never brought his friends. Even Kaidou or Nendou which were much closer to saiki then Aiura.

you walked behind the three of them. Saiki dropped them near the couch and looked at it. You sat down and started asking questions.

"What's going on? Is everything alright? You could've told me you were bringing your friends, I would prep-"

"They're here to apologize to you." His friends looked at him surprised. Saiki sounded like it was an obvious intention.

"Apologize? Saiki, this person was-"

"They're my partner. We've been together for... some time now." Saiki said, looking away. He thought this 'announcement' would look different. Well he didn't thought about those two..

"Partner? Saiki actually pulled someone?" Toritsuka said, but he got quiet right after his head was hit with one of the cans from the table. "What?! You never told us about having someone! How could we know!" Toritsuka said rubbing his head.

"R-Right! We thought it was some kind of stalker or a creep...!" Aiura wad explaining their motives to Saiki and you thought about all the stuff that happened 'cause of them.

"Saiki it's alright, they didn't know. Maybe you should let go." Even tho you wanted to see what kind of punishment those two would get, you couldn't bring yourself to. Damn your good nature and big heart.

Your boyfriend looked at you and sighed. He loosened his grip and let his friends go. Saiki didn't expect that to happen. He really wanted to send Aiura and Toritsuka on deserted island and leave them for few days. But that would be against his principals... unfortunately.

──────────────────── ☆

"I told you we should have said something..."

It was pretty late when you and Saiki cuddled together on his bed. The night was peaceful with clear sky and bright moon. It was nice and warm, even if it was middle of February.

You had your head on saikis chest as he played with your hair. He had his eye closed, resting them a little. His pink bangs fell on his glasses covering his nose and tickling his cheeks. He looked peaceful and relaxed. Finally after a week he wore his ring so there was no thought in his head. No annoying ideas, thoughts or questions. Only silence.

"Yeah... sorry I didn't know sooner.." Saiki looked at you with soft look. His eyes were half closed and his face was decorated with gentle smile. Kusuo being the 'tusndere' he is doesn't really smile often, but when he does toy cherish those few seconds. "Could've stopped them and prevent this whole thing..."

"Don't be, at least they know now." You looked up and placed few kisses on his jaw and face. He hummed in response, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "Thank you for looking out for me.." You said as you finally planted last kiss on his lips.

"Always..." he smiled and cuddled you closer to him. He made the lights turn off and closed the curtains. You were finally able to have a peaceful and good night sleep and he would be damned if Saiki didn't try making it even better for you.

"I love you.."

──────────────────── ☆

reblogs are very much appreciated<33 thank you for reading ☆

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inklore · 11 months

Note

For the blurb weekend:

Billionaire x employee/staff with Miguel O'Hara please! 💖

use me

— billionaire!miguel o'hara x secretary!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: eighteen+ content, this is an au therefore canon does not live here therefore our boy ain't a sad spiderman just a sad billionaire with shitty morals, tension, masturbation, miguel's mean, also talks of pollution because hello it's realistic the earth is dying.

note: billionaire miguel is perfect because he's smart and gets shit done, is that shit usually done the right way? no but he looks hot doing it soo alls forgiven xoxo.

“You know, if you ran an honest business, you’d have fewer aggravating investors.” The smile that molds itself around the glass pressed to your lips is more of a tease than a pleasantry.

Pleasantries had packed up and shipped themselves far and wide from the two of you.

Probably finding safe harbor on a less tremulous land than whatever your and Miguel’s professional relationship was.

“That could be true,” he says with a deep, agitated sigh. The tip of his nail tapping an angry mark in the wood of his desk. “But then where would leeches like you work?” There’s barely a twitch of his lips when he cuts you with the words, his brows stagnant in that deadly, irritable look he always has.

“Oh wow,” you cough at the sting of the expensive vodka rather than at the wound his words are meant to cause. Your heels sound louder against the polished floor in his office than any other room within the ten story building as you make your way away from the small bar—your boss's lack of personalized photos, or even something inspirational as a flower on the wall, amplifying your movements.

“The meeting must have gone horribly if you’re being extra cruel tonight.” You set yourself in one of the two chairs positioned in front of his desk, the un-offered liquor in your glass almost gone from your descent from the bar to the black cushion currently under your pencil skirt.

He grunts, his eyes fleeting over your body for half a second before he turns and stares across the room where the floor to ceiling windows show the lights of the city and the moon's distortion of the yellow haze it’s not, naturally, supposed to have shadowing.

The man made yellow of machines and gases that cover even the stars. That makes one forget they're even there until you’re far from the city, and it’s hounds who are only trying to gain some worth of money or self discovery from polluting it.

The head of the hounds sitting right in front of you.

The man who owns more companies than you could fill up an entire filing cabinet with. The man every business tycoon and money hungry scoundrel wants to latch onto only to get a taste of the beautiful brain that's beneath that great head of hair and intimidating scowl.

The richest man in the room.

Always.

And if Miguel is part of the reason that the moon is overcast and the stars disappearing, then so be it. He’s past the point of going about it the right way. Of turning his vision and man made billion dollar corporation around, he’s in too deep. Done too much.

He’s not a man who sees a life lesson and ignores it for what it could be. He takes it for what it is and continues on his way. What’s done is done. What’s going to happen, will happen.

He wasn’t the first person to start a security company that became more, did more, and blurred some of the lines between too much and too little. A set of rules laid out by himself for himself so everything goes right. Accordingly, to keep business booming.

And he won’t be the last.

Miguel is not a bad man.

He just does the things that most people are too afraid to do. To face. To look at the reality of people and their selfish needs and not shy away from the darkness that lies underneath it. The cause, the effect.

Miguel can both stop them and make them happen.

It’s why he’s the best.

It’s why you chose to work for him. Even if the words currently coming out of his mouth say differently.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that I don't run an honest business. Makes it easier to get rid of the staff.”

The gasp you let out is dramatic and makes his jaw tick, “oh, no, please don’t fire me, Mr. O’hara. Whatever will I do? I have a family.” You perform. Give your best pout and hand over your heart to sell it.

“No one has a family here.”

Strike the meeting going horribly. Grim seems more on the money.

And maybe if your work relationship had the boss and employee lines drawn in a permanent marker rather than an erasable one that keeps getting reapplied after nights like these, you’d ask him if he was alright. To talk about it. To give him unsolicited advice that might make the demons in the boardroom gnawing at his morality stop plaguing him.

But that’s not what this was.

Who both of you are.

He was your boss. You his secretary.

And some nights, you were his only outlet for the aggressions of the day. Of being Miguel O’hara.

So that’s why you don’t say another word. Just finish the rest of the contents of your glass in silence. Your eyes moving along the room, following his gaze out the window. The clink the glass makes from you setting it on the edge of his desk is not enough to have him look your way or stop the tightening and strain of his jaw muscles.

But when you lean back in the chair, your fingertips dancing along the edge of your blouse as if there were a piece of lint there. As if you weren’t making a show of running them along your cleavage and across the peaks of your chest until they dipped down to your abdomen. Past your hips, until you get to the bottom of your skirt.

Your eyes finally looking up to see Miguel’s already on you. To see how hard his fist is tightening against his desk.

A ghost of a smirk edging its way at the corner of your mouth as you pull up your skirt until it’s tight around your thighs. Your middle and index finger running along the outside lace of your underwear before adding the smallest of pressures against your clothed clit making you gasp.

“Are you in the mood to watch tonight?” You ask. Making a show of spreading your legs further apart in the chair, a heel comes up to rest at the corner of his desk to give him the perfect view of you pulling your underwear to the side and running your fingers through your slit. “Or do you want to touch?”

There’s not an answer right away.

At least not in words.

The glint in his eye that most associate with his angry outburst is the sign you know to be of his control slipping. The ache you know his wrist feels from how tight his fist is giving way to all the degrading thoughts he’s having in his head to try and hold back the beast that’s begging to be released—for a release.

That you’re always so eager to give him.

The more your moans and sighs fill the room, the wetter you become from your fingers moving against your clit, teasing at your entrance: the more you see Miguel’s controlled demeanor slip. The more you feel that coil tightening in your lower belly.

“Miguel,” you say his name in that breathy way that always makes him swallow harder. That has him burying his face in the crook of your neck, so you can’t see how much he fucking loves it when he’s pounding into you. “You deserve it. Let yourself have it.” The whimper that falls from your lips when you push two fingers inside of you makes your leg propped on his desk shake.

“Use me.”

Is what apparently nails the coffin for him.

What has him getting up from his chair and stomping over to you in three quick strides, looking like an animal whose prey has been dangling in front of them for hours and he’s finally had enough; all in danger of his wrath.

The sting of his fingers at the back of your scalp as he pulls you from the chair, pushing your ass against the edge of his desk. His other hand squeezing below your jaw, fingers pressed hard against the strumming vein of your quickened heartbeat.

“Say it again,” he growls. His heavy breath mixes with yours as his lips ghost against your open mouth. The hand at your scalp leaves an ache in its wake as he grabs your wrist and places your palm against the hard bulge in the front of his pants. “Tell me I deserve it.” Your gasp falls into his mouth when his hand tightens around your throat. “Tell me to use you. Beg.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #oscar isaac smut

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starzshopoflove · 7 months

Text

Sweetness

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

Notes: fem reader! i hc ghost doesn't wear a mask when he's off duty, this is just whatever rot my mouse brain creates.

WC: 2.3k

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Ghost has been weird lately—really weird. He’s not yelling at recruits; he’s not entertaining Soap's stupid arguments; he doesn't get irritated as quickly; and more noticeably, he’s been far more brutal on the field.

Ghost never hesitated to use himself as a shield, letting himself take the pain he thought they didn't deserve. He still did, but now it was different; he was a wall of muscle, but now he pushed for them to get out of fire asap. He’d kill the enemy with more prejudice, like they had already killed his most cherished friends. The look in his eyes was more wild; the adrenaline in his blood was more like fire than it was chemical. Pumping around his big body, he chanted “Protect, Protect, Protect,” which he liked much more than when it used to say “Kill Kill Kill.”

They always loved Ghost as the no-nonsense in-and-out man on the field, the one who always puts others before himself during missions, a man who'd welcome death with open hands if it meant the rest of 141 would live. They loved Simon, the man on base without the skull of a man hiding him, the one who wore a less scary baklava, the man with scars and cuts on his face when they went to the pub, the man with horrible jokes, the man who'd make the base's shitty tea somewhat edible. Simon was different too. Simon ate faster, talked a little more, and rushed to get alone as soon as he could, locking his door and not letting anyone in past dark.

Price got tipped off when he saw the little line of white peeking out of one of his vest pockets on the chopper back to base after the whole Las Almas mission. Short square over his heart under the flag that he proudly wore on his vest. He couldn't see the photo, of course, but he could tell what it was.

A captain should know everything about his force—their past, present, and future. Price knew his past and possibly knew more about his present when they weren't on duty. He knew Simon had shifted flats, moving closer to the city center, when Simon told him to update his address on his off-base database file in order to get any checks or documents for future missions. Simon didn't tell him why. Price assumed probably better rent, or maybe he was sick of the shitty neighborhood he once resided in, or maybe he was sick of walking a half hour for groceries.

Price was getting an itch—an itch he didn't like. Price hated not knowing; of course everyone was entitled to a private life, but not when it put him off.

He felt dirty snooping in Simon's office, betraying his lieutenant's trust. He waited until Simon went back to his quarters, slipping in and shutting the door behind him. Nothing felt different, and nothing looked different either. The burning fluorescent lights flickered every now and then, but the air was still stale. No photos, no knicknacks on his desk, bare. Absolute bare, devoid of any personality, anything that would tell you about him, anything you could use against him had the enemy invaded the base.

Pacing around the room, Price checked under the desk and in the drawers twice. He winced at the squeak of the steel on the wheels and how loud it sounded. He snooped through documents, flicking through them quickly, only seeing the same pen and paper against the Manila folders. His eyes scanned the room again and again, only making him bubble and sigh in frustration, running his hand through his hair and gripping his hat in the other.

He stared at the metal closet, almost like it was staring back. Open me. Open me. I have what you want. As if it were beckoning him to spill every secret inside. Everyone had the same one. No one liked opening it; doing that meant leaving, meant war, and meant more time on the field. The field where you were going to get killed or killed, feeling less human every time you shoot. You welcome the gnawing, snarling, vapid ache that takes up all the space in your lungs when you try to breathe when you open that closet.

He hesitated at first, turning the little lock handle before opening the door gently, trying not to focus on the squeaking. Everything stared back, and Ghost stared back. The mask, once plain fabric, is now soaked in years of war; the blood of war dogs saturated it, and the skull of a man no one knew was tightly bound to it.

Grim, dirt, and filth

Guns that had killed more men than one could say, knives clean but still holding the smell of iron and sweat, boots with soles dirtied with soil and dust, and his vest Almost the same one wore the UK flag stitched neatly on with the same little rectangle shape pressed behind, right over the heart.

He wanted to shut the door, he wanted to leave, and he wanted to do everything that would allow him to pretend nothing happened and that he was never in here. He didn't, justifying in his mind that he was doing the right thing.

I'm not doing anything wrong

Unhooking the vest from the inside holding it in his hands, heavy.

I'm just worried

He set the vest flat on the desk, burning holes into it with his eyes.

I just want to know whats happening

His hands almost shook, sliding 2 fingers in the pocket, a soft grip on the polaroid, a feeling that confirmed everything he thought on the heli.

I'm doing this for you

The photo was small, almost choking him when he saw it. When he saw you, A big, bright smile pulled on a young woman's face—a toothy smile you only make when you're in love. Your eyes shut so tight, your hair is messy from the wind, framing your face so delicately, and the big bouquet in your hands is held so tightly that the stems may have bent. You were beautiful, no doubt, but his eyes lingered over to the man next to you before they glanced down at the writing in the ink pen.

Simon and I, 2.6. Manchester flower festival

Simon was staring at you in the photo, not even bothering to pay attention to the camera. Even if the photo wasn't high quality, anyone could see his eyes melting at the sight of you, how relaxed his shoulders were, and the crease next to his eyes from how he was smiling. Simon was smiling, not grinning or smirking like he does after everyone groans at his awful joke; he was smiling like he'd won the powerball.

Swallowing his pride and shame, he carefully tucked the photo back in and just as cautiously put it back. Backing out of the office, he could feel every question creeping up from the back of his brain.

“Who is she?" “What was her name?”

“How old was she?” “What does she do?”

“Does she know?"

He pushed his thoughts back down, shaming himself for suspecting anything about Simon, mentally noting to sneak him some better quality tea as a silent apology.

___

Simon isn't stupid. He can tell they're all being weird.

Is he going to ignore it? Absolutely.

They’re all cramped up in the corner of the shitty pub booth, drinking the shitty beer, and having a shitty night. Waiting for the night before leave starts is both exciting and irritating; each of them is counting down the seconds until they're home, be it alone or with family. Anything is better than a night on their cot in a cold, soulless room on base.

Simon was letting his skin breathe, finally taking off his plain balaclava when they were far enough off base to nurse his pint while the ball of his foot anxiously bounced his leg. He needed to be home, needed to be with you, needed to hold you; he just needed you. Inside his head, he was practically foaming at the mouth, snarling at himself, trying to make every second go by faster than it should so he could finally get his fix.

While he wasn't showing it, he couldn't hide the impatience basically seeping out of his pores, eyes hazed and uninterested in anything around him, his mind drowning out the sounds of the group's conversation with all the noise in the pub combining into a numbing chatter. He was so lost in his own head that he couldn't hear soap talking to him until he felt an elbow on his side.

“Awright? a'm talking tae ye?”

“Sorry. Say it again”

Bad choice. Soap had that stupid look on his face, a teeth-baring grin with his eyebrows slightly turned up, like he knew something he shouldn't. That alone made his eyes move on Gaz next to him, then Price. Gaz looked constipated, brows furrowed together, nostrils flared as he focused on his own pint, and suddenly Price was doing the same. Soaps eyes bored into Simons while the other 2 men had a new intense interest in their drinks.

“Said ye leek lik' yer thinking aboot yer bird”

“Don't know what your saying”

“Och c'moan dinnae lie tae us, a' body kin tell.”

Suddenly Simon also understood what was so interesting about his pint, bringing the drink back to his lips while his eyes gazed off at the wall next to him. He could feel his back itching and shifting in his seat, his shoulders tensing back up as he bottomed out with his drink, letting the glass sit back down on the table.

“Said, I don't know what youre talkin’ about.”

“Right, 'n' a'm king o' scotland.”

Soap was getting too close and cocky for comfort, too loudly sniffing about where he shouldn't, and poking the bear with a stick too short. Leaning back in his seat, he crossed his arms over his chest, letting the black fabric stretch as he puffed out his chest still with that fucking grin.

“Heard ye talking tae her.”

“No you didn't.”

Price's interest in his pint redirected to the tense conversation on his left; he knew he shouldn't know, but he didn't know Soap knew. The guilt from earlier that was frigid in his mind thawed a little at Simon's denial. If he was lying, that means he was right to search, right? You should never lie to your captain, after all.

“Really? Haven’t got a bird at home?”

“No.”

“Dinnae ye know lyin a’ sin”

A gutted groan left Soap as he folded over to hold his own knee from the sudden kick under the table. At this point, there was no use lying. If anyone was going to find out about you, it was better for them than anyone else. Mental gymnastics were set aside as he made a list.

On one hand, they could act as insurance; god forbid anything happens to him, you would be safer with them alone, never knowing what happens, and maybe now you would stop pestering him about meeting his friends (he doesn't have any but them). On the other hand, the possibility of you being compromised would finally exist; that thought alone could make him sick.

A long drag of stale air settled in his lungs, slamming his eyes shut as he let that same breath out. Straightening his back and resting his arms on the table, he let them flutter open and fall on Soap.

“You get one question each. One”

Giddy laughter bubbled up out of Johnny; he was just so happy he could finally open up Simon's brain and have a peek. Shooting down both Price and Johnny's question with a quick answer of your name and age only to result in Johnny giving him a wolf whistle that rewarded him with another kick to the shin. Gaz let his nervous shifting settle now that the cat was out of the bag, with his question filling the air with a new strain of tension.

“Can we see her?”

Hair. On. Ends.

What does he mean by can they see you? Do they want to meet you? Just a picture? Or will that put you in more danger than them now knowing you exist? Maybe it’ll be safer?

“One picture, than nothin else outta you lot for tonight”

Digging through his album of you in search of a simple photo was tougher than he thought; most were in your shop working, you asleep, some in a more compromising position than he’d like to share, but granted, he finally found one.

You were sitting on your shop counter with your hands settled on the wood supporting you while you had that same teeth-baring smile, eyes open this time, and hair not whipped by the wind. In all honesty, Simon thought you were perfect like this, makeup or not; he loved seeing you like this. You could wear neon-colored jumpsuits for the rest of your lives, and he’d still think you're gorgeous.

It was always you to him. Anytime he sees you, he thinks he could go limp. He was hopelessly devoted to you, ready to drop to his knees and confess all his sins if it meant he could drown in you. You invaded all his senses, unearthing parts of him he didn't know were still alive. You calmed that sick mess festering in him that used to wait until it was dark to sink its teeth into him, reminding him how disgusting he was. You dragged him out of that soulless apartment and breathed life into him. Every time you flood him with ambrosia and honey with the sound of your voice or the heat of your skin.

Well, now he had to let them meet you. A photo could never do you justice.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

can u tell i let this chapter get away from me a bit near the end

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olenvasynyt · 2 months

Text

Feyre is a shitty friend to Lucien if she’s ever been a friend to him at all

This is going to be a long post and yeah I have made two tiktoks about this already and yes people got very mad at me but I’m going to post in on here anyways!!

In Chapter 3 of ACOWAR, Lucien says, “You are a better friend to me, Feyre, than I ever was to you.”

And I couldn't disagree more. This is just so so wrong. I think Feyre has been such a shitty friend to Lucien if she’s even been a friend to him at all.

If you can’t handle criticism towards Feyre then just scroll past! And I have so many things to say but Feyre being a shitty friend definitely starts in ACOWAR. She’s constantly lying to him, making wrong assumptions about him, she uses him.

And I understand that is all for her plan to take down Spring; she can’t really tell anyone the truth because it’ll ruin her cover but a lot of the things she does concerning Lucien and how she’s his friend, are kind of fucked up.

Constantly lying to him and using him in Spring

Now I thought the nightmare scene with Feyre and Lucien was excellent and very entertaining to read but when you think about how Feyre is using Lucien, her “friend”, in a sexual way to get back at Tamlin and turning them against each other…it makes her a shitty friend.

Chapter 5 of ACOWAR: I waited the five minutes it took Tamlin to decide not to kill Lucien, and then smiled. I wondered if Lucien had pieced it together… A nightmare, I had told Tamlin. I was the nightmare. Preying on what Tamlin had feared from my very first days here… I had no doubt Tamlin was now running through every look and conversation since then. Every time Lucien had intervened on my behalf…weighing how much that new mating bond with Alain held sway over his friend…

And she continuously gets Lucien to touch her to goad Tamlin’s jealousy and also Ianthe’s jealousy. She does it very often while they’re in Spring: an example is when they sleep in the tent together. They basically end up cuddling each other and Jurian sees. And though it wasn’t on purpose, Feyre thinks about how it would be perfect if that got to Tamlin.

Chapter 6: I’d rolled onto Lucien’s bedroll at some point, any schemes indeed second to my most pressing demand—warmth. But I had no doubt Jurian would tuck away the information to throw in Tamlin’s face when we returned: we’d shared a tent, and had been very cozy upon awakening.

She is using him. She admits it when we get to the scene with Ianthe SAing Lucien.

Why she saved Lucien from Ianthe

And getting to this point soon:

So in an earlier conversation they have, Lucien talks about how he did the rite in Tamlin’s place and he completed it with Ianthe. Feyre can see that lines were blurred. Ianthe had continuously sought Lucien and she got what she wanted. And Feyre says she should have been there to stop it.

Chapter 3 of ACOWAR: He might have completed the Great Rite with Ianthe of his own free will, but he certainly hadn’t enjoyed it. Some line had been blurred—badly… The weight of that jeweled knife and belt seemed to grow. “I wish I had been there to stop it. I should have been there to stop it.” I meant every word. Lucien squeezed our linked arms as we rounded a head, the house rising up before us. “You are a better friend to me, Feyre,” he said quietly, “than I ever was to you.”

And this brings in the quote I brought up in the beginning. ANd I will make a whole separate post on Lucien’s inaction in ACOMAF but what he says just tells me that he feels guilty for not doing enough to help Feyre with Tamlin locking her up.

Feyre said she should have been there to stop it. Alright well, when the time came and she was given an opportunity to stop Ianthe, Feyre was thinking about how she could keep going and just leave Ianthe to SA Lucien and let it happen. She is going against her word. and that makes her a hypocrite and terrible friend.

Chapter 9: Keep going. They were distracted, horrible as it was. Keep going, keep going, keep going. “I thought you’d seek me out after the Rite,” Ianthe purred. They couldn’t be more than thirty feet through the trees. Far enough away not to hear my presence, if I was quiet enough.

And Feyre realizes that her using Lucien was a bad move, so Feyre’s guilt encourages her to save Lucien not out of any genuine friendship.

“You don’t act that way with Feyre.” A silk-wrapped threat. “You’re mistaken.” “Am I?” Twigs and leaves crunched, as if she was circling him. “You put your hands all over her.” I had done my job too well, provoked her jealousy too much with every instance I’d found ways to get Lucien to touch me in her presence, in Tamlin’s presence.

But another thing that causes her to save him is because this moment reminds her of when Ianthe assaulted Rhys.

I made it about a hundred yards into the cover of the trees before I halted. I heard Lucien first. “Back off” A low female laugh. Everything in me went still and cold at that sound. I’d heard it once before—in Rhysand’s memory.

and Lucien saying “do not touch me” is exactly what Rhys says and this is what pulls Feyre out of her plans to keep going and save him instead.

Chapter 21 of ACOMAF: Rhys learned close to breathe in her ear, “don’t you ever touch me. Don’t ever touch another male in my court.”

Chapter 9 of ACOWAR: “Do not touch me,” he growled. And then I was moving.

This moment is echoing Ianthe going after Rhys, from the way Ianthe acts to the hand-breaking situation because Feyre was replicating what Rhys did to Ianthe’s hand. And in my opinion, Feyre breaking her hand was not only revenge for Lucien but also revenge for Rhys. And that’s not inherently bad but Feyre is not saving Lucien because she’s a good friend and she cares for his well-being. If that were true, she would have never thought of leaving him to get SAed by her in the first place.

Not trusting him, questioning his priorities

When they’re traveling through Autumn she continues to not trust him, she continues to make assumptions about him and assume the worst. She questions his priorities when it comes to Elain and assumes that he’s only coming along to get what he’s owed. But then she wants him to have sympathy for her and Rhys as mates. It’s just very one-sided.

Chapter 12: “You kissed Under the Mountain.” “I had little choice in that as I did with the dancing.” “And yet this is the male you now love.” “He didn’t know—he had no inkling of the personal history, the secrets, that had opened my heart to the High Lord of the Night Court. They were not my stories to tell. “One would think, Lucien, that you’d be glad I fell in love with my mate, given that you’re in the same situation Rhys was in six months ago.”

Compare this to Chapter 11:

“And that’s why you’re here. Not because it’s right and he’s always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you’re owed.” “She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—“

So Rhys and Lucien were in the same situation: both had their mates in their enemy’s hands and want to keep them safe. Was Rhys only getting what he thought he was owed as well? No. So why can’t Feyre offer the same courtesy?

Again, ready to abandon him in Spring

And there’s literally a part when they're running in Autumn where Lucien basically asks “are you actually my friend?” and Feyre doesn’t answer.

Chapter 11: “You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply of fear of what it might do to [Elain]?” I didn’t answer. “Well? What was your grand plan for me before Ianthe interfered?” I pulled at a stray thread in the bedroll. “You would have been fine,” was all I said.

To actually answer your question, Lucien: she wasn’t planning on sparing you. She used you and was ready to leave you.

Lucien is a bigger man than me because I would have probably yelled in her face.

Again, uses him to get revenge against Tamlin

Also when he asks her where he’ll fit in in the NC,she thinks about how she would only offer him the position to keep Elain from Spring and to get back at Tamlin.

Chapter 12: “And where, exactly, do you believe I will fit in? The Night Court? I didn’t answer. I didn’t have one, honestly. As High Lady I could likely offer him a position, if we survived long enough to make it home. I’d do it mostly to keep Elain from ever going to the Spring Court, but I had little doubt Lucien would be able to hold his own against my friends. And some small, horrible part of me enjoyed the thought of taking one more thing away from Tamlin, something vital, something essential. “We should leave at down,” was my only reply.

Lucien is vital, but not because of his talents as an emissary and how he would benefit the Night Court. It’s because Tamlin wouldn’t have an emissary.

Feyre just lies to him and assumes stuff and uses him…overall, she’s just such a selfish friend and I’m fairly sure that she doesn’t even consider Lucien her friend at this part, despite several things that would go against that. Lucien seems to consider or had considered her a friend.

And then I got a part two because there’s just more things.

Being unwelcome when they get to Night

And now we are getting to one of my biggest gripes with Feyre. When they get back to the Night Court she has the reunion with Rhys. They almost immediately go off and have sex and sure, I get it: they’re mates, they haven’t seen each other in a while, they didn’t know if they would ever see each other again. It’s very emotional. But when they are done having sex, Feyre goes down and sees Lucien in the sitting room, still in his dirty clothes. Feyre thinks about how she should offer him something…but then the thought vanishes as soon as Rhys steps to her side.

Chapter 15: “Lucien was waiting in the sitting room when Rhus and I came downstairs at last… I fought my cringe as I halted at the threshold. Lucien was still in his travel-worn, filthy clothes. His face and hands, at least, were clean, but…I should have gotten him something else. Remembered to offer him— The thought rippled away into nothing as Rhys appeared at my side.

FEYRE. You literally just finished fucking him and putting on your wedding rings, stop thinking of Rhys and offer your “friend” some clean clothes, a bath, SOMETHING!!!! He has his face and hands washed probably because he washed them in the fucking kitchen sink because he doesn’t know where the bathroom is because no one has given him a tour and they still don’t give him a tour after this…

This is infuriating to me. So infuriating. It’s not only being a shitty friend but also a shitty hostess.

And then they have their talk where they explain everything to him, Lucien finally understands what has been going on, he knows that Rhys has been wearing a mask the whole time and that the NC is good…and then he is finally offered clothes and a bath. By fucking Rhys too not by Feyre.

Chapter 16: “I assume you’ll need clothes,” Rhys went on, nodding toward Lucien’s filthy jacket and pants—which he’d worn for the past week while we scrambled through territories. Indeed, that was…blood splattered in several spots.

Not communicating, having no important talks as friends or allies

And then the entire time Lucien is in Night, she does not try to have any meaningful talks besides the one where she and Rhys explain everything to him. She often says it’s for another time. But they never have any sort of conversation, even if it would just be beneficial as allies, if not friends.

There is a weird sort of mistrust for him. They not only don’t trust Lucien with Elain but also just information in general and this mistrust takes way too long to fade. From a political standpoint, I get it: he is / was a close friend and courtier to Tamlin, they did ally with Hybern. But Feyre acknowledges he was remorseful. And when they’re in Spring he speaks up and tells Tamlin his mistrust and dislike towards allying with Hybern. But Feyre just speaks over that.

And I just don’t understand this mistrust with Elain and assuming he’ll steal her away, which is what Rhys implies.

Chapter 19: “If he got Elain away, back to Spring or wherever…do you believe, deep down, that he wouldn’t sell what he knows? Either for gain, or to ensure she stays safe?” I considered his question: Did I trust Lucien? “I don’t know, either,” I admitted, and sighed. “I don’t like that Elain is a pawn in this.” “Did he discuss what he feels regarding Tamlin?” “Non. I didn’t want to push on that. He was…remorseful about what happened with me, and Hybern, and Elain. Would he have felt that way without Elain in the mix? I don’t know—maybe. I don’t think he would have left, though.”

But Lucien explained to Feyre that he hated how Elain was in an enemy’s hands and wanted to make sure she was okay and he knows now that the IC is good and she’s safe, but you still mistrust him? You are just completely ignoring everything and thinking the worst of him, and as I said before, not offering him the same courtesy you want him to have for Rhys.

Also Elain is a pawn because you are making her a pawn.

Lucien has good intentions. He wants to do good. With Hybern, he has not only explains his dislike for allying with them before to her but he sneaks off and sent stuff to Nuan for research to find a preventative against faebane. He goes to find Vassa to basically redeem himself, he says it was “about time he did something”.

And about Elain: Lucien is not demanding to see her. He literally just sits around on his ass and waits and is courteous. There’s no malicious intent. He is so kind and respectful. And if you are so mistrustful towards him that you set up rules for him to follow, maybe just ask him. Ask permission to look in his mind maybe?

Feyre and Rhys and the IC have a set of morals that they follow sometimes but then choose not to follow when it conveniences them. That is a whole other discussion in itself but literally so many things that went wrong with their friendship could have been solved if they actually talked and Feyre wanted to listen to him.

When Lucien and Elain finally talk one-on-one and Feyre goes into his mind (again, out of mistrust), Feyre discovers that Lucien has no ill intentions. Lucien didn’t even mean to find Elain there in the library. He just wanted a walk and to get a book, he didn’t realize she was there, he did not intentionally seek her out and break Feyre’s rule, despite what Rhys says.

Chapter 24 of ACOWAR: He hadn’t expected her to be here. The other sister—the viper—was a possibility, but one he was willing to risk…he’s been cooped up in this wind-blasted House for two days. He just wanted a walk—and a few books. It had been an age since he’d ever had free time to read, let alone do so for pleasure. But there she was. His mate.

Getting jealous he has friends / the entire fight they have in ACOFAS

Feyre seemed to have redeveloped her affection for Lucien by the end of ACOWAR but it took way too long and she is still an ass even after everything he’s done for her and for the good of Prythian.

In Frost and Starlight with their fight that causes him to leave before the Solstice…by fucking god. I truly hate everything about this conversation. Feyre is just so wildly frustrating. I discussed it before so I feel like I don’t need to go a whole lot into it because I already ripped this scene apart word for word.

Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: I rose as well. ‘But Jurian and Vassa’s is fine?’ ‘You’d be surprised to see how well the three of us get along.’ Friends, I realized. They had somehow become his friends. ‘So you would rather stay with them?’ ‘I’m not staying with them. The manor is ours.’” ‘Interesting.’ His golden eye whirred. ‘What is.’ Not feeling very festive at all, I said sharply, ‘That you now feel more comfortable with humans than with the High Fae. If you ask me—‘ ‘I’m not.’ ‘It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.’”

Lucien talks about how he and Vassa and Jurian have been getting closer and Feyre gets almost jealous that he has found friends and a life outside of the Night Court and the Inner Circle.

Of course he wanted to find other friends besides you, Feyre. It’s not like you have welcomed him with open arms.

And then this quote: “It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without homes of their own as well.”

So you’re admitting that the Night Court isn’t his home? That he’s not welcome here, he has no friends here?

And then she realizes she fucked up she tries to correct herself:

Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: “Lucien stared at me, long and hard. ‘Happy Solstice to you, Feyre.’” He turned toward the foyer, but I grabbed his arm to halt him. The corded muscle of his forearm shifted beneath the fine silk of the sapphire jacket, but he made no move to shake me off. ‘I didn’t mean that. You have a home here. If you want it.’”

He doesn’t want it. He talks about how he can’t go to Spring anymore not just to Tamlin but to the court outside of the manor because of how Feyre ripped down Spring. Feyre shows no remorse for that. And he also talks about how he can’t stand to be in Night around Elain. He doesn’t feel welcome here for all of those reasons and from the fact that you are just the worst friend ever.

And then she proceeds to make fun of the Band of Exiles and mock him despite the work they are doing for the land she used to live in as a human. The Band of Exiles is a stupid name but Feyre doesn’t have a right to call it bullshit.

They have not had any meaningful conversations about their friendship. They could sit down and actually talk about what happened like civil people, I think they both have to still fully admit where they were wrong and apologize for the mistakes they’ve made. But Lucien seems to have already apologized more than Feyre ever will. He apologizes, he says Feyre was a better friend than he was, he feels guilty, he says he needs to actually do something and he looks for redemption. In ACOWAR when he is still in the Night Court, he has better manners than Feyre does, he apologizes and says thank you so many times.

And their fight in ACOFAS is basically the last thing we got of their friendship because he does come to the solstice party in Silver Flames which I am amazed by actually. I feel like he is still holding on to Elain and his allyship (I’m going to call it allyship) with Feyre and the Inner Circle. After everything she’s done to him, he’s still pushing through it. And I think that makes him a better person than Feyre. Strong opinion but. Jesus.

I could go for even longer but I’ll stop and I’ll end by saying Lucien deserves better.

#lucien vanserra #lucien deserves better #pro elucien #pro lucien vanserra #anti feyre #anti inner circle #anti rhysand #acotar

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