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#It's a pity that the quality is not the best! :
mrmorsh · 3 days
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Information about the characters (the characters' characters are exactly the same as in the original)
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Agent Shadow is an elite agent of the Gun organization. His specialties are espionage and theft of important data. Trained by the best special forces fighters, thanks to which he is able to fight back even the strongest robot. His rocket boots allow him to temporarily levitate as well as make a series of short but fast jerks. During his time at Gun, his senses had dulled and Shadow had become more cool-headed. The hedgehog has a side type of earnings — the New Babylon Casino as well as a series of bars. Loves :Successfully completed tasks, money, as well as strong girls. He usually acts with cold and businesslike indifference, only occasionally showing his vulnerable side. It has a set of different types of gadgets, bombs, special glasses and pistols. Despite his cold nature, Shadow has a narrow circle of personalities that he can call friends without doubt or sarcasm. The agent is also not full of compassion or pity, it's just that the hedgehog hides his real emotions behind the mask of a harsh and cold agent. Of all of them, perhaps only two saw the real emotions of the hedgehog. Most often, it separates the eternally arguing Rouge and Lien-da, Which is why most often it becomes a beacon of reason for Rouge and Lien-da.
Rouge is a perfect life form created by Professor Gerald Robotnik as a universal medicine. Extremely dangerous due to the power to control the energy of Chaos, as well as because of the abilities that were added thanks to the altered dna. She is able to destroy stones and metal with her scream, but this ability requires great strength and concentration. Her element is air, so anyone who decides to arrange a fight in flight will instantly fall to the ground due to a barrage of attacks. She is a little obsessed with the power of Chaos Emeralds, so she tries to collect them. Rouge communicates quite easily and playfully—this behavior is associated with watching a lot of old movies on vhs, in which the main roles were played by spy girls. Rouge took the manner of her communication and behavior from the heroines of similar Films and TV series. Despite her cheerful demeanor, Rouge is still plagued by nightmares about the Ark colony, perhaps she has post-traumatic stress disorder. Her main connection is that Agent Shadow is her personal psychologist, he often calms Rouge at night when she wakes up from Another nightmare. Agent Shadow may be Rouge's main love interest, but due to her inexperience, all she can do is flirt. She is very proud and ready to fight dirty when faced with a formidable opponent. The carefree and playful attitude of the bat, due to its abilities, can strain some characters. To most people, Rouge seems brave, ambitious, independent, flirtatious, calculating narcissist who thinks only of herself. Although in fact this is just an image that she plays out in public, her closest friends know that the girl is actually kind, although she has moments of depression.
E.G.G-123—The most dangerous and intelligent of the E-series robots, is the creation of Dr. Vanilla, which as a result got out of control. It has a large arsenal of weapons and ammunition.Initially, E. G. G -123 was created as a guard for Rouge, which was in stasis at one of Vanilla's bases. However, the rapidly developing intelligence of the robot rebelled against Vanilla, wanting power as well as revenge for being locked underground for three years. In his arsenal there is :Rockets, miniguns, flamethrowers, plasma and laser weapons. In addition, the robot is very smart, which allows it to create its own weapons, which often work against its master due to mortality. E. G. G -123 likes to gloat and joke during battle, praising his fighting qualities as well as his mind. He often underestimates his enemies because of too much confidence in his abilities. The robot likes to compete with those individuals whose powers are not inferior to his own. He likes to arrange friendly fights with Rouge, considers her a worthy opponent. Despite his hidden desire to take over the world, E-123 himself wants Agent Shadow and Rouge to share the board with him. As a result, he tends to be extremely headstrong, reckless, aggressive and destructive - destroying everything that gets in his way.
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Dr. Vanilla is a brilliant scientist and a villain with the biggest ego. Her main goal is to take over the world and prove that she is the greatest genius. Its main weapon is intelligence, which allows you to create robots and various equipment. However, her main weakness is her confidence in her invincibility and because of this, she sometimes underestimates her opponents during combat. Arrogant and narcissistic, she creates countless technological wonders that fuel her huge ego, usually bolstered by her goal to finally build an empire, and she doesn't care where it starts. Single-mindedness and stubbornness can be called a strong character trait, because she never gives up when most would accept defeat. Rare moments of losing control of anger turn Vanilla into a dangerous tornado of rage that threatens both allies and her enemies. Basically, he behaves calmly and coolly, showing emotions only in times of victory or defeat.
Gemerl is a robot created to copy other people's abilities as well as destroy the heroine cat Blaze.Jimerl is as fast as Blaze, and is also able to copy the abilities of other heroes, but he cannot copy more complex ones such as Chaos control. He is very restrained and calm; he never seems to be in a hurry, but he manages everywhere. On the surface, he seems quiet and modest, but in fact, he is probably no less insidious than Vanilla, with the only difference that he is very good at hiding his true feelings, thoughts and intentions.Other robots know that he is vindictive and vindictive, and will always figure out how to ruin the offender's life. Therefore, everyone tries to maintain the appearance of a good relationship with him. Jimerl himself is quite satisfied with this state of affairs. The only thing that can break his usual equanimity is the appearance of a possible competitor.He is a violent, aggressive, cold-blooded and intelligent killing machine with a great superiority complex. However, from the very beginning, he had a habit of imitating Blaze's gestures, if not in a mocking manner.Jimerl's most dominant trait is his hatred and obsession with Blaze the cat. Programmed with the sole purpose of surpassing and destroying the cat, the robot is obsessed with the belief that it surpasses Blaze in all parameters. The robot considers itself as it says:"Jimerl is excellent, Blaze is insignificant!"
Agent Vector is Dr. Vanilla's devoted assistant, who may be in love with her. As a rule, he performs secondary work, collecting materials for the construction of bases, checking factories for the production of robots and making coffeeAgent Vector is the most calm of their henchmen Dr. Vanilla.Vector is used to Vanilla's not always obvious plans and understands her better than most other people. He obeys the doctor, taking all insults in his direction and doing some humiliating things without unnecessary questions. Vector tends to consider himself the smartest in any situation. This may not always be true, but he is really quite smart, considering that he lasted the longest as Dr. Vanilla's assistant.Vector usually shows a calm side of himself. However, he speaks in a rude tone and may not pay attention to the details of the conversation. At the same time, Vector himself does not mind and frankly deceive and mislead, imitating Dr. Vanilla, whom he admires and respects.
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Amy Rose is a combat soldier created by former subordinate Vanilla -Tails. Amy was originally created to destroy Blaze the Cat, but then Tails directed his forces to create his empire. Rose has become a leading force that helps Tails with his plans. Amy is gloomy, speaks little and is cold-blooded towards any battle or opponent. It can release lightning bolts from its body and also move at equal speeds with the Blaze cat. Her main ability is dark inspiration, which causes the worst and most evil in the personality to wake up. She does not show emotions even during the battle, because she is gnawed that she is just a living weapon created for destruction. But despite this, she finds the company of the robot convenient for her, to some extent she considers the Metal unit her only friend. She is ready to listen to the ideas of others when she admits that she does not really have a special plan of her own that could be implemented, which makes her more open to suggestions. In the future, she will hate Tails and will be obsessed with finding her real family, although it is still unknown whether she was created in a laboratory or was kidnapped for experiments. He likes to use a bat that can absorb energy from Emp or other sources and then release it in the form of lightning. She hides that she likes to be read bedtime stories.
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Metal unit v.3.0—Was created as an attempt to replace Jimerl, but now monitors the state of the Emp. He was programmed to take care of Amy, but then the program turned into true emotions. He likes to cook , but because of the imperfection of his program, the food he prepares becomes a biological weapon. The unit is able to use its powers to control water, is able to create whole storms and even tornadoes. However, he can be too obsessed with Amy's safety, which is why, after her defeat, he can retreat, taking the hedgehog with him. He speaks politely and formally, addressing others as "sir" or "ma'am." Despite his restrained behavior, he is capable of moments of strong emotions: when he thought that Amy had been fatally injured, he flew into a rage and destroyed everything he saw.
Tails Miles Prower is a former fan of Dr. Vanilla, who decided that he would outgrow his idol and that he would be able to take over the world. He has a lot of knowledge in the field of creating cyborgs, mutants and robots. Uses Warp Topaz and its energy to open portals, hypnosis, and energy shots from a prosthetic eye. He voluntarily replaced some parts of his body, which is why he received additional abilities:Shooting a laser beam from the eye, hacking techniques, strengthening strength thanks to a robo hand. Initially admired the work of Dr. Vanilla, an unrecognized scientific genius and a big ego forced Tails to enter the road of crime. In addition to his intelligence, the fox is a pretty dexterous manipulator. He could masterfully use other people to his advantage to get them to cooperate with him or lure them into traps, and he knew exactly how to strike his enemies where it hurt the most.The fact that he had been an outcast for so many years made him bitter and cynical. A selfish genius who puts his own well-being above everything else.He is very easily ready to say goodbye to the life of another living being, so he immediately put Amy in front of a choice either she serves him or dies. Tails managed to sew a device inside Amy's heart that can stop the girl's heartbeat. He has absolutely no sympathy and considers Emp and Metal as ordinary instruments that can be replaced.
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hypodermicfroggy · 4 months
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I wished for a Bioshock movie for Y E A R S
but now that we're finally getting one I don't want it
I do not have faith this is going to be a good adaption, I'm sorry, maybe 10 years ago this could have been a great passion project (especially if Gore Verbinski had been involved like originally planned) but I just know it's going to be an over-actioned, improperly funded (since it's a Netflix production they're absolutely going to either dump too much or not enough money in it then write it off as a failure if it doesn't 'perform' well enough), CGI-laden slop fest that doesn't even acknowledge or properly handle half the themes present in the series.
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#Bioshock#Bioshock Movie#bonus points if it only focuses on the first game and doesn't include ANYTHING from the tie-in novel or BS2#they're going to cut Sophia Lamb's role from the plot I just fucking KNOW IT#like she was fucking important! she was the one who actually STARTED the class war! Fontaine literally just took advantage of it!#hell half the problems with BURIAL AT FUCKING SEA could have been fixed if Levine wasn't a shit and hadn't refused to use ANYTHING from BS2#like is BS2 as good as the first? no but it's still fucking better than that shitshow you call Infinite!#and the tie-in novel actually quite skillfully blended both games together to help account for certain plot errors between the two#(a novel that Levine also REFUSED TO READ)#like you could tell it was written by someone who wanted to do the series justice which is more than I can say for most tie-ins#if this movie ends up actually being good I'll fucking eat my words but considering this director's body of work includes#the Will Smith I AM LEGEND and the last three* Hunger Games films#we are not batting 1000 for quality here#I say this as someone who likes the Hunger Games movies#but they are not really the best adaptions of the novels and really downplay a lot of the more horrifying aspects for action scenes#and I fear the same will be true for Bioshock's film as well.#like the Little Sisters alone should elicit nothing short of visceral disgust and pity but I just know they're going to be so boring#they're just going to be like pale girls with glowing eyes instead of proper blood-guzzling corpse-looting parasite hosts calling it now#croak.txt#reblog.wank
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katyspersonal · 11 months
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Guys, I remind you that merely tolerating a person you do not actually like just to not hurt them is not "being nice", it is wrong thing to do. Especially if truth keeps slipping through the cracks and especially if this person already has trust issues. You are just creating a problem for you both, as you are wasting your time on keeping up the facade of a friend and that person is wasting attachment on you and not on someone who will truly like them, not just 'pity' them.
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the-busy-ghost · 2 years
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You know I used to beat myself up a bit for not reading/studying enough, and especially for wasting time during my teenage years because I stopped reading/trying and now have to catch up when it no longer matters or can do any good. 
But I’m slowly realising of late that there are a lot of books I’m glad I never read before I was ready to seek them out myself. Currently reading “Wuthering Heights” and I am so so glad I didn’t read that book in high school- I would have wildly misinterpreted the premise (even if I liked it), and that would have been a great disservice to the author and the book itself. Now I can really try to understand it on a different level and I think I will only grow to appreciate it more in time.
#Also- I'm not quite finished it so I might be wrong in this but don't think so- having read it myself#I feel like social media and popular culture (or at least the opinions I have heard personally) do a real disservice to Emily Bronte#She often gets painted as if she were romanticising Cathy and Heathcliff's relationship for some bizarre reason#The narrator may be an unreliable one but the whole tone of the book shows that there are sooo many problems with their relationship#I won't say Emily Bronte CONDEMNS the relationship- I doubt she would do anything so stuffy and Victorian#But she's very clear about showing us how toxic their relationship was (and Heathcliff's character  in particular)#But also how it stems from longstanding childhood abuse and neglect as well as issues of class and gender#And how nobody in the book no matter how nice can really claim to be exempt from blame on some level#As they all participate in a society that treats children as property and turns a blind eye to abuse#Or at the very least washes its hands saying 'well it's sad but that's the law and it's really the parent/master's problem'#And that abuse and neglect turns Heathcliff into a genuinely abysmal and horrifying person#Cathy's not in the same league but she's still a rather unpleasant person in the grand scheme of things#That being said! They are both sympathetic in different ways even as adults#They have some good qualities even under all that horror and Cathy in the end really does cut a pitiful figure#Let her breathe in the open air#Also like I think Bronte gives us a good idea of how things wouldn't necessarily be solved if Heathcliff and Cathy had stayed together#The effects of their childhood traumas have shaped them#Heathcliff sees anyone who isn't absolutely for him as being against him and would expect Cathy not just to be loyal but utterly partisan#Cathy must have her way and I don't think she would take kindly to Heathcliff disagreeing with her idea of what was best for them#Maybe I've just been reading the wrong media but because of its popular image I went into this book expecting to have to struggle through#some bizarre romanticisation of a toxic relationship where the reader is expected to totally fall in love with Heathcliff and excuse him#Or where Cathy is some kind of author's self-insert or the twentieth-century stereotype of how All Women Are Repressed And Only Want Sex#How lucky I am that a) that's really really not the case and b) that I am reading it at an age where I won't misinterpret it#Or allow my own judgement of the book and its merits to be clouded by some English teacher's Accepted Intepretation of Literature#Not that other people's interpretations haven't been absolutely fascinating and helpful#The pop culture view I was given was definitely based on only one particular type of interpretation of the novel#Also why do so many film/tv adaptations of the book seem to leave out the second bit of the story with the children etc?#I didn't even know that it isn't set in the Victorian era but the late eighteenth century! (Even if Victorian mores are important)#And god I love an old Yorkshire farmhouse with a cavernous kitchen and a date on the door lintel and a strange family history#reading log
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ticktokrobotsnot · 9 months
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Hurricane
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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
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Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyone’s pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick. 
“It’s not-” Carmen started. “It’s fixable.”
Y/n didn’t say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. It’s not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldn’t help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons. 
“We just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.” 
More silence.
They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didn’t want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.
Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile. 
“Tell me something good, y/n.”  Carmen mumbled through his hands.
It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you can’t make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good. 
“At least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.” Y/n offered.
“Yeah,” Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldn’t make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died. 
“And let's not forget that your “loan shark” is your uncle and he won’t smash your kneecaps.” Y/n jokingly muttered, “Probably?”
Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him. 
“What's the payment situation going to be like? …What is the interest?”
“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”
“That's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?”
“Uncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.”
One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.
“You think there's going to be strippers?”
Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so… so…
“There will be at least strippers.” Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen. 
Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasn’t able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, “Have you ever been to a strip club?” 
She didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with  an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair. 
For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasn’t worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.
“No I haven’t. You?” He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.
“Of course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?” Carmen’s head shot up.
“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”
“You worked in one? As a… dancer?” Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.
“You call strippers “dancers”? What are you, 90? No, I was not a “dancer.” I was a bartender.”
“Hmm” Carmen pondered before adding, “I knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.” 
“My lack of coordination aside,” y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, “I spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.” 
“I have a cousin in the Marines,” Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.
“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”
Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.
“Would you ever be a stripper?”
3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face. 
Holy fuck… what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind.  She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part?  She was enjoying herself. 
“I don’t think I would make a good one.” He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark. 
He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second. 
“It's your eyes.” Y/n humorously pondered, “They’re too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?” 
Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy. 
Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, “You could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.” 
What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life. 
Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired. 
“Judging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and more…” Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment,  “tempting.” 
Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, “Carmy, you’ve got a big day tomorrow why don’t we get you home?”
Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his hand—warm, calloused, and undeniably strong.
After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place. 
“Where did you park your car?” Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys. 
“My car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.” 
“You're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?”
“It's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.”
“That's how people get kidnapped, y/n”
“Don't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why don’t I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"
Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new. 
“Let me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.”
“My place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.” Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad. 
“It's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.”
Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"
“Let me do this for you…Please.”
Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.
“Ok, thank you so much Carmen. You really are…kind.” Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation. 
“It’s the least I can do.” Carmen didn’t have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurant’s financial situation so this was the best he could do. 
They both walked to Carmen’s car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didn’t want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night.  
They finally walked up to Carmen’s car, and Carmen opened y/n’s door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car. 
“You good?” 
“Sorry.” Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.
“I can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark." 
Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place. 
Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmen’s boldness. Y/n couldn’t take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, “Let me look up the directions, I’m geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.” Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh. 
“Geographical blind”, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up. 
The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/n’s place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield. 
“Thanks again Carmen.” 
“Will your car be back tomorrow?” 
“The day after.” 
“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”
“That's too much Carmen, You aren’t obligated to do this. I’ll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.” Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didn’t want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldn’t keep imposing. 
“I’ll drop you off, it's not a big deal.” He left no room for negotiation. 
Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/n’s side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed. 
“Carmen, you really are too… you're just too…” Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, “Good.” 
Y/n couldn’t see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didn’t know if she made him uncomfortable. 
“Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow Carm.” Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off. 
She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasn’t a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment. 
She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to  find his phone. 
Carmen spoke first, “I just wanted to make sure you…”
“I got home safe.” Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories. 
Y/n continued, “Go home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.” She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave. 
“Night y/n”
And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didn’t jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out. 
Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didn’t need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.
 Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting. 
If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over? 
Awkward silence.
“Good morning.” Y/n started.
“Morning, did Carmen fill you in?” Carmen’s “uncle” asked.
"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.
“I'm Cicero…” Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, “Uncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming today”
No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in. 
“As much as I love the mystery, I do have work to do…so…why am I here?” 
Cicero spoke up, “Carmy’s got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.”
“Catering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilarating” Y/n said sarcastically.  “I'll be there. I’ve got to the kitchen, I shouldn’t leave Tina alone with my prep-” 
“Look, I'm going to be honest with you…” Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did. 
“Did you work out front a week ago?” Cicero asked.
“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”
“One of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought you…looked…” It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. “They want you to be there.” Cicero finished.
“This is what you were holding off on, we’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?” Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously. 
“Be there and do what?” Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasn’t really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.
“I'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.” Y/n couldn’t hide the look of bewilderment and relief. 
“Jesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with them…Yes I can serve drinks. I’ll be there” Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.
“Do you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?” 
Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.
“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly. 
Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. “What the fuc-” Carmen fumed. 
“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.
“Without you 5k, with 10k”. That made Richie stop laughing. 
“Let me think about it.” 
Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his “uncle.” Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance. 
The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant. 
Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow. 
“I'm going to serve at that party.” Y/n whispered.
“Yeah, no shit you are.” Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly. 
“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned
“Who says no to 10 fucking grand?” Richie exclaimed.
They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office. 
The silence was killing y/n so she started, “It's just one day.”
“Only a few hours” Richie offered
“Which is basically just a few minutes.” Y/n reasoned. 
“Which is really just a few seconds.” Richie added.
More silence. 
“It's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.”
“Yeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.” Y/n remarked.
“You would be fucking crazy to say no.” 
“Yeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.” Y/n chimed in.
Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. “That is not happening. You aren’t doing this.” 
“It's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.” Y/n added, “God helps those who help themselves.” 
“You're religious?” Richie questioned
“No, but he’s Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.” Y/n whispered.
“I can fucking hear the both of you.” Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didn’t really know how to convince him to let her help him. 
“What specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?” If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries. 
Carmen brooded in his corner. People didn’t give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n. 
“I got something tonight.” Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.
They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n. 
“Tell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?” 
“That's one of many concerns.” Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldn’t let this happen. 
“I'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.” 
“You are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?”
“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.”
Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that is?”
“You don’t know what it is?” Y/n had to resist snickering. “So basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap you…Do you want to see a video?” Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.
Carmen didn’t know why he was humoring this and he didn’t want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasn’t too bad…
Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not.  
Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor. 
Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, “Carmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.” 
A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.
“You do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.” Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver. 
Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft “yeah”. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow. 
Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didn’t change his mind. “Why don’t you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request
She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k. 
She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasn’t much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors.  
A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/n’s hands and scrubbing for her. 
He finally looked up, “I will be by your side the entire time. You can’t go anywhere unless I can see you-”
“What if I have to use the bathroom?” 
“No.” 
“No?”
“What if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?”
“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”
“You can't cross the counter.” Y/n wasn’t going to anyways. 
“And I have to drive you home.” That stupefied y/n. 
“What? Why?” 
”What if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?”
“Carmen, you’re thinking too much. You don’t need to worry about me.” 
“I’m not letting you do this unless-” 
“Alright Carmen. We will do this your way.” Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good. 
Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.
They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldn’t last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer. 
The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie. 
“Is it handled?”
“It's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.”
“That bastard said yes?” Shocked didn’t really cover what Richie felt.
Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “I know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-”
“No wise cracks.”
“Also, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.”
“Sure thing princess.”
“Do not-”
They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen. 
“You can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's… and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.”
“Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?” Carmen didn’t say anything. 
“How about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.” 
Carmen smirked, “That's not really even.” 
“I'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and don’t even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.” They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do?  Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes. 
They finally “found" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didn’t forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home. 
The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose. 
The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute. 
The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived. 
“Hey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?”
Carmen’s face betrayed nothing so she couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, “The band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.” 
“Can I see what the booze situation looks like?” She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadn’t taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.
“Carmen, can you turn up the heat?” Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.
“I feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.” 
Richie gwaffed,” Don’t worry you’ll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.” Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.
“Hey, save that for our esteemed guests.” Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed. 
Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.
Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasn’t really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk. 
The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didn’t stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible. 
A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk. 
“Payback time.” 
Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better. 
Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now. 
The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the other’s ear just to hear each other.
“You gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen ”
“Who’s getting this special order?” Carmen smirked, he was having fun. 
“The groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancée at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.” Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk. 
“It's so tacky and…and…yuck. Hard pass.” 
Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasn’t going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel “yuck” about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party. 
“Have you seen the women here? Very pretty.” Y/n teased.
Y/n didn’t really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmen’s witnessing the same scene.  Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.
The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself.  Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.
Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, “Uhh, I haven’t really taken a look.” 
Y/n doubted that but she didn’t want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes. 
“You should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.” 
“I can guarantee you that they are not.” Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.
“Hey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.” Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didn’t even look up from the water cups. 
Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her
“I like it here.”
“So you like to watch.” Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together. 
Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, “Yeah I do.”
“Mr. Berzatto, have you been drinking you’ve gotten, dare I say, bold?”
Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what? 
“I think it's time to get this show on the road.” Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes. 
“You promised, you wouldn’t.”
“I can't get to the counter from here…why don’t you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguard” Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/n’s dress was so tight and short that she couldn’t really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something. 
Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, “Can I touch you?”
Holy…mother…of…fuck. Y/n’s brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy “yes”. 
Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful. 
"Tattoo?"
Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.
Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee. 
“Your past the counter, chef” 
Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter. 
Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.
“For our guest of honor.” Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath,  y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter. 
Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm. 
“Make it hurt.” 
Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie. 
“Its fucking boiling in here” Carmen commented, “Can you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.” Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought.  Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. “Richie, the fucking thermostat.”
Richie complained but Carmen wasn’t paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.
“When is this shit show supposed to end?” Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible. 
“Two more hours.” Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter. 
“My ass and thighs are numb.” Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men. 
“Would you like a shot?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seen a million guys take it, aren’t you curious?” 
Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didn’t even know how to react. “I have to drive you home.” His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside. 
“A shot of water?” y/n offered. 
Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?
He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes, 
“Hit me with your best shot, chef.” 
Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmen’s face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position. 
“How was that, chef?” 
It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmen’s hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldn’t step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter. 
“I can understand the appeal.” Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock. 
Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. “Do you want to step out? I think I need a break” 
Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.
“It's nauseating in there.” Y/n exhaled. 
Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong. 
“I need to go to bed.” 
“20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.” 
“I need to see this place after it’s cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.” That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie. 
A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.
Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.
“Shit” Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didn’t go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head. 
The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there. 
Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didn’t have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have the energy to make a fool of herself. 
She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmen’s arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasn’t real. Like she didn’t see Richie bash some fucker’s skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch. 
“Let's get you home.” Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car. 
Y/n laughter died down. “I can’t go home, not with Richie in jail.” 
“You need some sleep” 
“And you don’t? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?” Carmen didn’t reply or look up at her.
Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her. 
"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.
The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.
“Keep it on, it's cold here” Carmen muttered. 
“I have a jacket” 
“It's too light.” Carmen’s eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasn’t working. Carmen’s eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap. 
Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness. 
Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eye’s meet Richie’s and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 
“Aggravated Assault.” 
Carmen let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 
Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on. 
Richie watched but didn’t have any motivation to say anything but a simple, “You got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?”
“We’ll see when she wakes up.” 
--
Part 2
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chaoticace2005 · 1 month
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Reason I, sexiest being ever Angel Dust, wanna get fucked by BE WITH Whiskers: (Complimentary to Husk's reasons for NOT getting involved with Angel post)
He's hot.
~Daddy~ (I don't have daddy issues shut up. Who am I? Charlie??)
Wanna see the kitty ~purr~ and those wings ~flap~
He has hearts. I have hearts. THAT'S SO MANY HEARTS!!!!
Our colors compliment each other!!!
Are cat's dicks really... ya know?
Honestly he probably needs a good lay.
Actually, wait: is he even queer??? YES YES HE IS!
Makes good drinks.
Funny to piss off.
Charity work. That's a redeeming "quality" right?
Fuck this entire list actually. He sucks. And NOT in a sexy way. He'd be LUCKY to fuck me.
Good singer and dancer??
Actually gets what I'm going through and doesn't give me that pitying bullshit?
Badass motherfucker with EXPLOSIVE CARDS?!
Good drinking buddy
HE CAN FLY?!?!
Somehow actually believes in me??
Short king. Short guys are sexy (except you Arackniss, fuck you.)
So fucking soft. He'd deny it though. AND HE PURRS
Doesn't bullshit me or anyone for that matter.
Smiles wouldn't like it.
Husk should know he is loved and supported. (Am I really the best guy for that?? I don't even need to date him to tell him this. I can get it through this thick skull in other ways until someone better comes along.)
Best cuddler ever.
Makes me feel seen and alive.
Being with him is better than any drug.
He takes care of Nuggets!!!!!!
Speaks Italian?!?!?!?!? AND DOESN'T EVEN BUTCHER IT!!!! (and it's VERY hot)
Nice enough to ask for permission before doing anything??
Thinks that asking for permission should be expected?
Takes care of me after a bad session/day and I wanna take care of him.
Doesn't want to have sex with me.
Says "Tony" WAY too well.
I've literally never cared about someone this much before??
One of my favorite people ever and I'm so lucky to have him as a friend. And maybe that should be enough?? What the hell am I doing??
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rin-fukuroi · 2 months
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𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 [𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]
Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.
The originals of my works can be read here
Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail
Pairings: Aventurine x dealer!fem!reader
Warnings: gambling, sexual tension.
Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq I'm just starting my blog on Boosty, but I'll be glad if you support me with a subscription and read the full NSFW version of this work there. Soon there will be other works that will not be published on Tumblr.
▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. VIVIZ — MANIAC
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You have long heard from other casino employees about a certain visitor, which comes here quite often, but you have never been lucky enough to meet him until today. The girls sighed languidly, referring to him as a handsome man, preparing to serve him the best drink, for which he would pay generously, and the men working in security only irritably noted that if he visited the institution today, they would only have more work. Then you didn't pay any attention to their words until one of the bar staff squealed with delight, energetically pointing at the blond man who entered the hall.
A dazzling smile, a light gait, but a sly look hidden behind gold glasses, gliding across the tables and the employees standing behind them before playfully sparkling violet-blue eyes rest on you. Your back straightens reflexively, and your fingers wrap around the back of your hand, and you nod in greeting when several men, led by a blond man, approach your poker table. You have been working in the field of gambling for several years, so you can easily notice expensive watches, chains and rings on his hands and a long earring in the ear of an elegant man in a hat, dressed in a black jacket with a fur collar, a turquoise shirt with a small but provocative neckline on the chest and white trousers with patent leather shoes. In total, all the clothes and trinkets of this person can be compared to the cost of your life. Winning will not matter to him, as losing will not greatly affect the quality of his life, which means he simply enjoys a sense of excitement and superiority, since, according to rumors, he plays very well.
«Well…»
— Oh? I haven't seen you before, — the blond man lowers his glasses on the bridge of his nose, smiling slyly at you as soon as you raise your head.
— I'm sorry, sir, today I'm serving you, because the dealer who is more familiar to you is ill, but I assure you, this will not affect the quality of the time spent in our institution in any way, — you kindly answer with a calm expression on your face, which causes the blonde to chuckle softly.
— How official! Relax, honey, — the man leans lower, slightly tilting his head to one side, carefully watching how the expression on your face changes to a more tense one. — It's a pity that… Oh, what was her name? — the blonde pulls away, thinking for a second, trying to remember the name of your colleague, but in the end only sighs briefly, spreading his hands. — It doesn't matter. You've been brought up to date, that we're going to need a separate room, haven't you?
— Yes, sir. Please follow me.
An unpleasant person. It was clear from afar that it was better to stay as far away from him as possible. These vibes of nauseating self-confidence and narcissism definitely don't bode well, but you still humbly do your duty, pulling on a smile and letting the guests into the VIP-room. Usually this room is rented by companies of influential people whose names are so well known to everyone that such guests don't even bother to introduce themselves, because you always know who they are, but these men… You're seeing them for the first time.
Anyway, a job is a job.
— Have a seat, dear guests. Would you like to see the bar menu?
Men in suits silently take their seats, and only an energetic blonde immediately responds to the sound of your voice, standing in front of the last empty chair.
— We'll order the same as usual,— the stranger says sweetly, spreading into a frighteningly sweet smile that sends chills down my spine.
— I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know…
— Oh, how could I forget! — the blond man clasps his hands in a gesture of apology. — Whiskey on the rocks.
His theatricality is a little annoying, but that's none of your business.
— As you wish, sir.
The female silhouette peeking out from behind the slightly open door and instantly disappearing after the blonde's words only made your task easier, allowing you not to even leave the room. It seems that this man is really very popular among girls, which, in principle, isn't surprising. A pretty face, a thick purse and a sugary voice, like a demeanor, are the pillars that support the classic image of a heartthrob in the eyes of any woman. It would be fascinating if you hadn't met such people before. This place is teeming with both men and women, sometimes even reasonably believing that the whole world belongs to them. Perhaps you would have bought into his charisma too, if you were as frivolous as a bar employee rushing into a room no more than five minutes after the order was placed.
— Thank you, dear. As always, you help out, otherwise my friends seem to be out of sorts today, — the blond man chuckles melodiously, looking at the other five guests. You can almost see in their stern looks the desire to strangle this talkative flatterer, and you can't help but chuckle to yourself.
— Anything for our beloved visitor! Have a nice game, — your friend blushes, smiling shyly before leaving the room, barely restraining a satisfied squeak.
You modestly clear your throat, drawing the attention of everyone at the table to yourself.
— Well, gentlemen, shall we begin?
You leave the button* in front of the blond man sitting first on your left hand. Early* is the most unfavorable position to start the game, but he should have known about it when he sat down here, or is it just an accident?
After the preflop*, while you were deftly shuffling the deck in your hands, someone had already started emptying their glass of whiskey, someone took out a pair of fragrant chocolate cigars. The blonde just watched carefully how skillfully you dealt the cards, not missing a single movement of your fingers. For a second, you even doubted that he didn't trust the new dealer, but every time you dared to look at him, his lips stretched into an even more sugary smile, and his eyes always found yours. Is he trying to get you into the same emotions as the silly waitresses? You wonder how soon he'll lose interest in your indifferent face?
The game went on quite calmly until three people remained at the table, including a smiling blond man.
— Ace of hearts, two of spades, jack of hearts, ten of clubs, two of hearts. The bets are made, you can open, — you say in a monotone voice, glancing at the cards on the table that turn over one by one.
«Street? Not bad…» — you stop looking at the blond's cards before you hear a thud on the table. After looking at the other hands it became clear that there is nothing on the table stronger than two pairs.
— Oh, don't get mad! We've just started, — the blond man raises his hands in an innocent gesture, chuckling softly, it seems, making the man opposite even angrier.
It seems that now you understand a little what the casino guards were so unhappy about, but the more games passed, the more sad the blonde's position became. The empty glasses were hastily replaced with newly filled ones with a new portion of whiskey, and the concentration of smoke in the small room became more and more suffocating, it seems, only exposing the undisguised glee of the men at the table, allowing themselves to mock the blonde, who was catastrophically unlucky today. A flush* against a royal flush, a pair against a square* and, in the end, his hand could only boast of the highest card*. What a disappointment.
— Here, order yourself one more whiskey, — one of the departing men casually tossed a couple of chips in front of the blond man sprawled on a chair, grinning hoarsely before staggering slightly out of the room after the other four, whose loud voices disappeared into the noise of the casino outside the door.
— Sure, — the man who remained at the table smiled gently at the departing acquaintance before taking a sip from his glass.
You wanted to say something, maybe even encourage him, but it's not your way to mind your own business, so you just silently gathered the cards from the table, about to ask the guest to leave the room, when suddenly he spoke first.
— That's not what you expected, is it? — you turn to the blond man, who is resting his head on his own palm. The same strange smile is still playing on his lips, even despite how much money he left at this institution today. He's really weird.
— I don't know what you mean. I don't know how you play, so I couldn't even try to predict the outcome of the game.
— Come on. You know how I play. That girl from the bar told you about me, didn't she?
Annoy.
— Even so, I'm not used to trust rumors, — you reply indifferently, carefully putting the cards back in the box.
— In that case, now you can conclude that I'm a lousy player? Oh, that would be unfortunate, because everyone has unlucky days.
— I don't think it's about luck, — you wanted to say that someone should just drink less and make less risky bets, but you restrained yourself, maintaining professionalism.
— Ho-oh? Then what is it? — the blond man perked up even more, waiting curiously for your answer.
— It is not appropriate for me to give advice to visitors, because my earnings, among other things, depend on them.
— That's how it is! So I was wrong when I decided that you weren't like the other girls looking at my wallet?
— It turns out that it is. But I'm looking at the wallets of every potentially profitable player for me, — you shrug your shoulders. — And now, if you'll excuse me, you should leave the room, since the game is over.
— How pragmatic, you remind me of someone I know, — the blond man, as if he hadn't heard your last words, gets up from his chair, coming closer. — So you don't believe in luck, huh?
The man leans slightly forward, looking into your eyes from under the half-lowered glasses on the bridge of his nose. The expensive sweet fragrance of the perfume instantly cuts into your nostrils, and you take a small step back.
— It's absurdly to rely only on luck in poker. That's all I wanted to say.
— Hm-m … — the blond man pretends to think. — You're right. Then what about roulette?
— Even roulette has its own patterns, but if we don't go into details, of course, this game revolves exclusively around chance.
— Great! Then can we play? — the man turns towards the roulette table, which has apparently not been used for a long time, in the corner of the room.
— I'm afraid my shift is already over… — you frown, even before you finish, he interrupts you.
— Oh, I was so catastrophically unlucky today that I just want to win back at least another game, otherwise I won't be able to sleep peacefully tonight… Are you really that heartless?
— You can use the services of a croupier and play roulette in the hall.
— It would be sad, because I already liked you, — the blonde smiles, looking into your eyes again.
— If you're trying to flirt with me like that, then I'm in a hurry to upset you — it won't work, — you reply irritably, about to leave, when suddenly a weak grip on your wrist stops you.
— I'm sad to hear that, but what if I make a bet?
You turn around, batting your eyelashes in puzzlement when you meet the sharp gaze of a man's violet-blue eyes.
— You can't play roulette without betting, what's the point of all this?
— Let's say… if my bet plays out, you owe me a kiss, what do you say?
You almost boil with anger, looking at this personification of self-confidence standing in front of you.
— I'm not going to play your games, let go of my hand.
The attempt to pull back your hand was unsuccessful, on the contrary, only forcing the blond to pull you closer.
— It seems that luck isn't on my side today, so if I lose, I'll just leave.
The desire to just slap him in the face is almost impossible to ignore, but you wouldn't be working here if you weren't a gambling person too. Your lips stretch into an arrogant smile as you approach the blond man's face, slightly squinting your eyes.
— In that case, on what number* will you put it on?
The blond man's eyebrows rise, after which a ringing laugh is heard in the room.
— I knew you could entertain me! — the man lets go of your hand, but does not take a step away from you before saying softly. — I'm betting on zero.
«He's crazy!»
You almost laughed at how crazy his bet turned out to be, but it sounds like he's already agreed to leave you alone, so you just smiled, silently retreating to the corner of the dimly lit room. The table has indeed not been used for a long time, having already become covered with a layer of dust, but you take a small ball, gently rolling it in your hand before turning towards the blond man who remains standing at the poker table. He doesn't seem to care at all that he's going to lose now, and the smile doesn't leave his face for a second. It will be all the sweeter to see how the expression on his face will change when he loses.
— Your bet is accepted, — you say loudly before spinning the roulette wheel by throwing a ball at it.
The man doesn't even look at the spinning roulette wheel, instead watching your eyes follow the ball as it slides across the sectors.
12, 35, 3, 26, and finally….
— It can't be… — you whisper, eyes wide open and just looking at how the ball stopped at zero.
— Ho-oh? What's is it? Judging by your reaction, did I win? — the blond man grins, slowly removing his hat from his head and leaving the hat on the edge of the poker table.
This can't be happening. Betting on numbers is always a huge risk, because the chance that the ball will stop at the chosen one is incredibly small. Was he… really just lucky?
You purse your lips, summoning all the self-control you have to turn to the man with an indifferent expression on your face.
— That's right, congratulations on winning, sir.
— M-m… it's not just a win, you remember the conditions, right? — the blond man says playfully, slowly walking towards you, until finally he towers over you, elegantly ripping the glasses off his face.
«This jerk has probably been rehearsing this for years…»
— I didn't have to accept such bets at all, — you mutter irritably.
— I understand your disappointment, but still, you accepted it. Be kind enough to hand me my prize, — you look into the extraordinarily beautiful eyes of a man, trying your best to deny how really attractive he looks without glasses and a hat.
— Ahem… okay. But can I at least get your name? I wouldn't want to kiss a complete stranger.
— Huh? So you don't know who I am? How cute, — the blond man squints, breaking into a smile. — You can call me Aventurine. And you… — the man hooks the badge on your chest with the tip of his finger. — Y/N.
Where have all your old composure gone? They probably got lost somewhere in the midst of this madness, which for some reason you signed up for, following your own excitement. Self-confidence is just as much your enemy as Aventurine, only in this case he is elated with victory, and you are trying to collect your thoughts in order to fulfill the conditions of the game he started.
— Excuse me… — you mumble awkwardly before pressing your lips to the man's cheek, leaving as quick a kiss as possible to hastily turn away, hiding the blush that has appeared on your face.
— Hey! And what was that? — Aventurine says in disappointment, touching the place of your kiss with the tips of his black-gloved fingers.
— You asked for a kiss, but didn't specify which one, — you try to sound confident, but still mentally berate yourself for not being able to look into his eyes right now.
— Oh… — the blond man sighs heavily, pulling away and approaching the roulette table. — I'm not satisfied with such a victory. Let's do it again.
— Huh?! — you cry out indignantly, looking at the back of the impudent man rolling the ball around the zero sector. — I shouldn't be here at all, and neither should you!
— I'm betting on zero again.
You freeze, raising an eyebrow when you turn to Aventurine.
— You're going to lose.
— Maybe, — the man shrugs, turning to face you and leaning on the edge of the table. — But if the bet plays out again, you'll give me a real long kiss.
— I'm not going to waste my time on this madness. The chances of hitting zero a second time are so small that it's easier for you to just leave this room right now, since it's simply impossible to play this bet.
— Let it be so. You don't lose anything if you're so sure of my defeat, do you? Besides, didn't you say that you don't give advice to the players?
It annoys you how logical his words sound. But what's even more annoying is that you really doubt it. It's just not possible. You have to show this arrogant idiot his place.
— Okay, — and here you go back to the roulette table again. — But if you lose, you will never return to this casino again.
Aventurine's purple eyes widen before flashing a gambling spark.
— And you know how to make the game more interesting, — the man grins, picking up the ball from the table, carefully leaving it in your hand. — I agree.
This will be the craziest bet anyone has ever made in the entire existence of this casino. And it only fuels your interest too. You spin the wheel in anticipation by throwing the ball. Your heart is pounding in your chest, as if your own life is at stake. It's been a long time since you've experienced such adrenaline, no matter how absurd what's happening, because it's worth it to win…
— Ha-ha! It seems that today is really my day, — Aventurine grins as the ball slowly rolls and stops at sector zero. Again. — The money I lost in poker was worth spending all my luck on such a tempting prize.
Impossible. He just did the impossible. What were the chances? The mind is so devastated by shock that you can't even approximate the probability, just silently looking at the green sector in amazement.
— You're not… cheating, are you? — you're almost whispering, without opening your eyes from the little ball.
— What cruel accusations! How, tell me, could I cheat at roulette? — the man clicks his tongue in frustration, slowly wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling your body towards his. — If these are just assumptions without any evidence, I think it's time to start awarding the second prize.
The lips open, releasing a soft sigh into the air. You feel the warmth emanating from his body, the smell that his nauseatingly expensive clothes exude, and you feel his measured breathing on the skin of your face when Aventurine bends down, almost touching his lips to yours and freezes.
— I'll make it easier for you this time, — the blond whispers, letting his warm breath caress the delicate skin of your lips.
— What do you mean?.. — the only thing you managed to say right before Aventurine's lips covered yours.
Long fingers dive into your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back, and he deepens the kiss, insistently making his way with his tongue through your lips, which are not too resisting. A soft moan dissolves in Aventurine's mouth, and your fingers desperately cling to the fabric of the shirt on the man's chest, but still you respond to the kiss, allowing your tongue to stick out a little further, slowly waltzing in tandem with his. The shock was instantly replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and a flutter in his chest. It seemed that this kiss lasted forever, so harmonious, gentle, but passionate, as if you have known each other for so long that Aventurine doesn't need much effort to make you melt in his hands, which you allow to touch your body.
Lips gasp for air as soon as Aventurine pulls away, looking at your flushed, relaxed face, which isn't touched by the former cold indifference with which you looked at him all evening.
It's a strange feeling. From the very beginning, when you saw this man, the only thought that you would never in your life become infatuated with just his presence somewhere nearby was ingrained in your head, now fighting for supremacy with the unwillingness that he would let you go. You shouldn't give in to this.
You gently press on Aventurine's chest, shuddering as soon as you feel his warm skin under your fingertips, noticing that you touched this very seductive neckline.
— Is that all? I have to go… — you say softly, trying to get out of Aventurine's hands, but he's not even going to let go of your waist or your cheek, to which his palm is still pressed.
— Really? Well, then I won't hold you back, — the blond man grins, still continuing to prevent your imaginary escape.
— Then let me go. I gave away your winnings and I don't owe you anything else.
— Yes, you did, — the man whispers, gently stroking your cheek with a thumb in a leather glove.
You look at each other without saying a word and freeze like statues. The muffled sounds of slot machines, clinking glasses and laughter come from the hall outside the door, breaking the silence that hangs between the two of you, but you can't hear anything else except your own rapid heartbeat throbbing in your ears. A strange warmth spreads in your chest, gradually sinking down, and a heavy weakness settles in your legs, which doesn't allow you to move from your place.
«What are you doing, Y/N?», — you ask yourself one last time before you swear unintelligibly under your breath, grabbing Aventurine's shirt in order to involve the man in the kiss again. Greedy, careless, but you needed it. The blonde's palm shamelessly moves to your buttocks, covered with black trousers, gently squeezing the elastic flesh, and your fingers slowly slip under the neckline in the shape of an inverted heart, caressing the heated skin of Aventurine's chest.
— W-wait… — you suddenly break off the kiss, breathing heavily and looking at the purple irises covered with long eyelashes.
— What's is it? I won't complain that the dealer is harassing me if you're worried about it, — Aventurine grins, forcing the expression on your face to change to the old irritation.
— This is wrong. I don't have to…
— I don't care about the rules, — the man tilts his head to one side, smiling playfully. — I'm betting on black.
— What? — you ask discouraged, watching the man's fingers hastily undoing the buttons of your white shirt.
— If I win, now you'll be my prize, — Aventurine winks at you before opening the cotton fabric on your chest, noticing you are wearing a black lace bra. — Tsk-tsk, how unlucky you are today. I won again.
✧ ✧ ✧
The button is a special chip marked "D", transmitted clockwise and identifying the dealer (in this case, the dealer is an employee of the casino, so the button only determines who will bet first).
The early position is the player's place at the poker table, located immediately behind the dealer.
Preflop is the initial stage of the poker game, which includes the distribution of cards and the first bets, including blinds.
A straight is a combination of a sequence of five cards.
A hand is a combination of two cards in the player's hands.
A flash combination of five cards of the same suit.
Royal flush is the strongest combination of cards from 10 to ace of the same suit.
A pair is a combination of two cards of the same value (for example, two aces).
A square is a combination of five cards of the same value (for example, four aces).
The highest card is the card of the highest value of all lying on the table.
In roulette, it is possible to bet on one color, on even and odd numbers, and so on, including you can bet on a specific number, which is quite risky due to the reduced chances that such a bet will play, but the winnings from it are multiplied by 35.
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grapejuicestyless · 9 months
Text
People Pleaser
Harry Styles x fem! bandmate reader
summery: Y/n gives too much and Harry is the only one to give back.
Angst(kinda) to fluff!
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If you were to ask the public, ‘Who embodies love on tour?’ The majority, if not everybody would be quick to conclude it was Harry. He was the front man, it was his tour. A man who grows flowers with his voice and encourages affection between even the most different strangers.
If you asked the people involved, they would say Y/n Y/l/n.
Y/n is a woman with so much empathy she walked in others shoes more than her own. She spends her free time devoted to helping her friends and family. Constantly doting on them despite how grave the situation seemed.
So yeah, if you were to define HSLOT, it would be Y/n, Y/l/n. The pianist who sat quietly in the back of the stage, tucked away behind Sarah and Pauli, quiet as a mouse.
——————————————————————————
The sun was high, burning into the black chevron of the HSLOT Wembley stage floor. The white and black paint radiating vastly different temperatures in the June heat. The backtracks boomed through the stadium, muffling the farther backstage you got. Humidity suffocated everything in a sticky wetness.
Harry was dancing in a black bunny shirt, sleeves rolled to his shoulders and shorts shorter than my own. Today the sun was more brutal than ever and the effects were obvious. Skin was redder than before and water bottles could be found empty and scattered beneath the instruments. The HSLOT band was huddling under the small amount of shade they could find over the small overhang mounted on the stage. Lucky for me, because of how tucked away my space was, I had full access to the cool shade and the slight breeze of the AC blasting through the backstage area. Mitch, however, due to his front and center stationing, was falling victim to the peak heat of the day.
Harry hummed into the microphone, lazily speaking numbers out of order to get a laugh out of anyone, though the heat seemed to be getting to him too as he seemed out of his usual pre-show element. The only thing there seemed to be more abundance of than Harry’s pitiful jokes, was the sweat drenching each and every one of us.
“Y/n/n?” A soft voice called from just in front of me.
Mitch stood just in front of Pauli who was stuck half in the sun and half in the shade, his body squished into the darkness. His hair was matted with wet and held up tightly in a man bun, his shirt drenched in sweat more so than the rest of us.
“Eh, Im sorry to ask but would you mind if we could just switch positions for just a bit? I’m overheating over there and need a small break.” He pleaded.
Ever the people pleaser, the urge to stay in the shade was pushed down and away as my body moved quicker than my mind. I was eager to make Mitch happy, loving the satisfaction helping a friend out gave me.
He traded me a small hand held fan for my perfect shady spot. Though the plastic wings barely moved and the air barely soothed the heat, the thought was nice enough of him to suggest.
So I stood in the sun, the rays casting down on me like a blanket that could only be described as hell on earth. Sweat collected more aggressively on my forehead but the quick look over to Mitch, who had a lazy smile on his face from the shade and the inconsistent AC gusts made it a whole lot more worth it.
By now we were on Satellite, Harry mumbling the song, waltzing over to Elin to make sure she was still feeling okay. It was moments like this that I believed we were soulmates. Bonded together by the environment that seemed to tug us together like some sort of gravity. His straightforward kindness and appreciation one of his best qualities that I loved.
I let myself marinate in my own wetness, my legs heavy from the heat and my cheeks growing sore from the sun. My eyes grew heavy and the fan grew weaker and weaker. Truthfully, I was struggling.
“Y/n..?” I heard a small yell from Sarah, who I was sure was boiling surrounded by all that plastic and metal, despite the shade. She was still blocked off from the AC air, so the heat might as well have been just as bad.
I nodded to her, making my way over cautiously, the floor slippery with the dew from the humidity and the sweat dripping off our noses.
“What’s up, babe?” I smiled, leaning against the edge of the platform her drums were set on.
“I’m struggling a bit here. I’m a little trapped.” I raised an eyebrow, ready to take a seat to listen to what she had to say. I wondered if it was about the baby or if it was a mental block. I was ready to be a good friend when she needed it.
“Do you think I could borrow that fan? Just for a second? It’s like a hotbox in here.” My eyes drifted to the soft vibrations rumbling through my palm, the soft buzzing sound from the hand held fan spinning softly in all its neon green glory.
Forming my lips into a thin line, I nodded, plastering on a smile and reaching up to hand it to Sarah.
She was thankful for my generosity, flashing me a smile and holding up a weak thumbs up. I reflected her gesture, hunching my shoulders as I spun to return back to the spot I’d taken in the sun.
Just now, I began to realize how much I took that tan for granted. Even the soft wind was able to move the still air that casted over the UK today.
My heavy feet turned into cinder blocks and my eyes became unbearably heavy. I seemed sway on my feet a little, every blink becoming stickier as my eyelashes bunched together more and more. It felt like hours going by. Realistically it had only been five minutes, but everything moved in slow motion now.
I think Harry was singing Matilda now, but it seemed to be silenced by the clogging of my ears. I felt faint suddenly, my body too heavy to hold up. I felt myself stumble. It was usually now I would focus all my attention in on his beautiful melody, but my ears seemed to reject any sound whatsoever other than shouts and belly laughter across the stage.
“Hey Y/n!” I heard loud and clear, the bubbly voice belonging to none other than my best friend. The man who I’d been stuck with since his very first show and the person in my mind that hung the stars and moon single handedly in my life. The closest thing I had to a home on tour, Harry.
I’m not sure if I was able to lift my lips into a smile or not, everything blurring together in a mushy mess. It was like I was on psychedelics while being totally sober.
Trying to remain polite, I tried to be more welcoming to him, reaching up to wave only to find myself stumbling back into the elevated stage platforms, hands slamming into the wood so hard the corners caused red lines to form, blood peaking in blots on my skin.
“Y/n!” He sounded more frantic now, not as light and airy like before. The sound of a microphone falling to the ground was ear piercing, if I could cover my ears I would. His feet sounded heavy, the sound echoing through the empty area like bricks. My elbows collapsed under the pressure of my body and my knees buckled.
I waited for the ground to come, braced for it even. Ready to bruise my face and bleed from the nose. But it never came. Instead I was wrapped in a wet body, my face smushing against a hard chest.
“Shit, can I get some medical help?” Harry. Harry had caught me. How quick he was to rush in to help.
I couldn’t quite make out his face with how jumbled up my brain was from the heatstroke I was almost sure my body was going through right now, all I saw was black dots and blurry pink lips moving quickly. I think he mumbled, “You’re okay, it’s fine.” But maybe that was an illusion I made up for some sort of comfort.
We met eyes, a worried shock painted on Harry’s face before I was met with the soothing darkness of sleep.
——————————————————————————
I woke up to a cooler climate. A buzzing sounding through the vent on the ceiling. Tassels of pink and yellow blowing in the wind. I had an ice pack taped to my forehead and one wrapped around my stomach with velcro.
My head was pounding with one of the worst headaches I’d ever dealt with in my entire life and my eyes were aggressively watering despite my excessive wiping.
I tried to sit up, but could only groan with how sore I was, my hand pressing against the ice pack quickly.
“Y/n, oh thank god.” I felt the couch dip by my head, Harry’s body kneeling on the ground in front of my face and his head hovering over mine as he hunched over me. The carpet ruffled beneath his knees as he settled into place. His breathing was slightly jagged, a little quick. Maybe in his panic it had picked up. Compared to mine, which was slow and steady. A good long sleep will do that to you.
“Did I faint?” My mouth was dry, so everything that came out of my mouth was strained and rough. Sandpaper scratching my vocal cords.
The question was obvious, I knew I had gone down before I even fell. I knew I was going down as soon as I handed away the shady spot and the fan. Maybe not directly, but that small tugging feeling that fought briefly with my body knew. I couldn’t help but let the smallest smirk grace my lips, trying to be funny and light hearted in a time of need.
“Gave everyone a proper scare, really did. Went down pretty fast.” He lifted an arm from his sides to gently move the ice pack from my forehead, sensing the slight discomfort it was giving me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. We watched each other quietly in the quiet of the communal dressing room.
His smile was infectious, always was. Harry had that kind of bunny tooth smile that made my stomach do secret summersaults and flutter occasionally. Despite the strict platonic relationship we’d established, it was hard to not fall for the other half who understood the urge to put others before myself just as well.
Lost in the dreamy thought of him, I snapped back to see the white smile slowly wipe off his face, eyebrows pulling together in worry and his gaze becoming less lighthearted and more serious.
“Was it dramatic? Could I win an Oscar for it?” I joked, lightening up the mood, or attempting to.
“Yes, and yes. Would’ve swept them, I think.” We laughed weakly, not finding the situation funny but the inability to stay so serious for so long amusing.
“We shouldn’t have had soundcheck outside. I knew it was too hot out, I’m sorry.” The warm bareness of his fingers engulfed mine gently, his thumb brushing my knuckles so light it almost barely ghosted over my skin.
“It’s not your fault, I made a couple bad choices that got me there.”
“Such a pushover.” I snorted, removing my hand from his in fake offense to his comment, though it was both true and not in any sense mean or bad intentioned.
“And to think, I had the perfect AC spot in the shade too!” We continued to joke, not finding anything about this at all serious. We probably seemed fucked in the head to the outside perspective. Who treats heat stroke like it meant nothing?
“I need to learn how to say no.” Harry silently agreed, eyes flicking up to mine slowly, almost like he was tracing my body in an outline in his head. Saving a mental photo of his best friend covered in sweat, melted ice and plastic icepacks.
“You do.” I smiled.
“I know.” He raised a brow.
“You do. Can’t have that happening. Scared me.” His sudden confession lacked any previous lightheartedness that we’d bounced off of each other just moments before.
I grabbed his hand again, now my thumb was the one to merely ghost over his skin smoothly.
“I know, I’m sorry. Don’t wanna worry you.” It was the most sincere thing I’d said all day. The only thing I’d truly meant really. All those “My pleasures” and, “Of courses” only being half hearted and made based solely on the idea that someone else could benefit from it more than I would.
“I love you.” Silence hugged the room around his confession. Not that we hadn’t exchanged the sentence consistently. Throwing it around so much it was a habit to tell each other before we left any room or made a joke so good it deserved the praise. But somehow, the words sat different than before. They held more seriousness and more honesty than the other times, and I couldn’t help the giddiness it gave me.
“I love you too.” Maybe if the situation wasn’t so dramatic and the heat wasn’t getting to both of us incredibly bad, maybe then it wouldn’t have happened. Some sort of forced confession out of the blue.
He showed no signs of having any interests in me. Other than the constant presence he seemed to enjoy having in my life and the fact that nobody knew me like him, he could have fooled me completely.
“Yeah?” He laughed through his teeth, breathy and light.
I nodded slowly, sure of myself but shy on the idea he could be playing with me. He would walk me to the door of hope and send me home crying. Maybe it was the feeling of giving so much and never getting anything back. Maybe it was the all too familiar feeling of being used because of the overflowing empathy I was dealt at birth and the nagging persistence in my mind ordering me to please the people around me that was responsible for the twinge of doubt I held to him. But his eyes held kindness and full trust, I couldn’t help but feel that fluttery feeling.
It could have been from the heat, but most likely from him rushing the blood from my heart straight to my cheeks.
“I hope you mean it in the way I think you mean it, because if this is the heat stroke playing with my feelings, I’m about to look really stupid.” My arms outstretched around his neck, pulling him to my lips. My fingers tangling between his puffy curls and damp with the sweat beaded on the back of his tanned neck.
His kiss was just as sweet as I expected it. It wasn’t an intricate make out with a long battle between our tongues. It was needy, but not in a rushed way. It was short, but did more than any sloppy kiss could possibly say.
“Is now a good time to say I only see you as a friend?” I couldn’t help but silently laugh at that. My chest moving up and down while my mouth was pulled into a large smile that broke out on my face.
Harry was still so close, yet to pull back completely as his breath fanned my nose and his forehead almost touched mine.
“Now that I’ve wooed you, does this mean you’ll let me play tonight?” His lips silenced mine, pressing hard and smooth against each other. He pulled away with a wet release.
“No.” For the millionth time, we laughed. We laughed, feeling happy. Content that I was okay, that this was okay. That we were whatever we were. Maybe we had crossed the line between strictly platonic. Maybe we were towing the line between lovers and best friends. But it didn’t matter because whatever we had was warmer than the June heat and bigger than any crowd Wembley could pull in our hearts.
It was all some sappy story of the girl who gave too much and the only man who gave back, very on brand for the HSLOT crew.
Maybe heat strokes could be good.
Read part 2 here!
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cevansbrat0007 · 10 months
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On the Clock
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Summary: Ari stops by for a snack while he's out chasing a lead.
Warnings: Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Oral Sex (fem rec), Finger Fucking, Ass Slapping, Ass Grabbing, Handcuffs (mentioned), Overstimulation (implied), Cursing, Pet Names, Minors DNI
A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are sincerely appreciated.
___
“Oh God, I–Beast!”
Your fist slams down on the desk as your legs threaten to give out from under you. It was all too much. Between each sinful flick of his tongue, and the delicate precision of his thick fingers roughly pumping in and out of your dripping pussy… 
You weren’t sure if you were actually going to survive. 
“Gimme one more, Bird. Just one.” Ari’s free hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp crack echoing through your tiny stockroom and spilling out into the shop. “You can do it.” 
A muffled sob escapes as you cling to the cool, flat surface for dear life while that same hand delivers another blow – this time giving your cheek a hard squeeze after it lands. His punishing grip all but ensuring that you’ll be heading home with fresh bruises, although he has yet to hear you complain. 
Especially after he just got done telling you that all your sweet curves belonged to him anyway. A fact that you were no longer as interested in disputing as you once used to be. Maybe it was because you enjoyed wearing his marks almost as much as he enjoyed giving them to you.  
The filthy wet squelch of his fingers as they ruthlessly fuck your cunt, along with with the sounds of your desperate cries, has you feeling grateful that there’s no one around to witness just how pitiful you must look. 
Of course you have Ari to thank for that, whose quick thinking brought you to this very moment. 
Which involves him kneeling between your parted thighs, eating your pussy from the back. Devouring you as if his life depends on it. And for all you knew, it did.
Because when Ari had sent you a message at 11:57am asking if you were free for a quick snack, you’d had no idea that he’d been referring to this. But then again, you also hadn’t had time to respond, what with you trying to box up orders for several waiting customers. 
Which meant that you’d been just as surprised as anyone when he strolled through the doors of Baubles & Quills less than ten minutes later, with his badge displayed on his hip and a scowl etched across his ruggedly handsome face.
Confused by his sudden presence, you’d offered him a brief smile before suggesting that he might be more comfortable waiting for you in the back. Of course your bounty hunter had declined, muttering something about “being on the clock”. And then he’d stood off in the corner glowering at the small group of patrons that were steadily occupying your time. 
Precious time that was apparently reserved for him.
Shaking your head, you’d simply returned your attention to running your business. If Ari had questions that needed answering before you were slated to see him tonight, then he was going to have to wait his turn. Afterall, you had bills to pay for both this place as well as your own home. And providing quality customer service was one way to ensure that you would be able to do all of that on time and in full.
However, that’s not to say that you weren’t affected by his presence. It was almost impossible to ignore the weight of his heavy gaze. Especially since your body felt the need to respond accordingly against your own best interests.
From your quickening pulse and pebbled nipples, to your slightly shaking hands and damp panties, your bounty hunter was not the type to be so easily relegated to the background. Nor was he the kind of man who would allow himself to be forgotten either.
Which was why you then witnessed Ari escort your last patron, the lovely Ms. Greta Thurman who was also pushing 80, out to her car with all the patience of a saint. Only for him to return seconds later, this time locking the door behind him and flipping your sign around to signal that the shop was closed – without your fucking permission.
You’d opened your mouth, fully prepared to protest such gross mistreatment. Only to swiftly think better of it the moment you’d gotten a good look at his face. And then he’d motioned for you to join him back in the stockroom, which had been roughly twenty minutes ago. And now…
Now, you were growing increasingly convinced you were going to die. And yet, the Beast at your back had the nerve to keep demanding that you give him one more. Always just one more. 
“Poor little Bird.” Ari hums, sounding slightly out of breath. But he doesn’t let that stop him, especially when he feels you clench around his fingers when they strum over that special spot inside you. “You might be done, but your pussy wants more.” His pointed tongue goes back to rhythmically lashing at your sensitive clit. 
Again and again. It was enough to drive a woman crazy.
“It’s so good, Beast! S’good!” You mewl, your short, blunt nails scraping against the desk. “S’goo–fuckfuckfuck!” Your ability to form coherent sentences has long since abandoned you, leaving you a sweaty, blubbering mess as your body works overtime to process the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.
“My greedy girl.” His harsh growl has your knees about ready to buckle. “Greediest pussy I’ve ever had.” Sensing you’re about to collapse, he removes his fingers from your wet heat, making you whine. And then he goes back to squeezing and kneading your ass, loving the way you rise up on your toes as he holds you open for his assault.
“Ari!” You continue to whine, wishing you still had his fingers buried deep in your cunt, even as your impending orgasm looms. He growls again in response, the heady vibrations pulsing through your entire overly stimulated body.
You try to run – attempting to climb over the desk in search of refuge – only for your bounty hunter to drag you back. 
“Try that shit again and I’ll cuff you.” Is the only gruff warning you receive before he goes back to lapping at your honeyed folds. The vulgar sounds he makes as he sucks and slurps at your heated flesh, demonstrating just how committed he is to his task.
And he positively hated being interrupted. Your vision blurs when he reaches around to stroke talented fingers along your swollen nub, taking special care not to send you over the edge until he felt you were ready.
Asshole.
Your hips continue to writhe and buck beneath his assault, but you don’t try to run again. And this time when your orgasm washes over you, it feels so good it hurts. Your mouth falls open on a silent scream as wave after wave of bliss sends your nerve endings buzzing. 
It was hands down some of the most exquisite pleasure you had ever experienced. 
Eventually Ari relaxes his hold, albeit rather reluctantly, before giving you a minute or two to get your bearings. “Thank you, baby.” He murmurs, the husky timbre of his voice sending another small jolt of white-hot electricity pulsing through you as he goes to stand up. “That should be enough to get me through.” 
“Huh?” Comes your weak reply. Frankly, he’s lucky to even get that. Right now you could barely function, let alone string together a damn sentence. But then it registers that he’s leaving. 
Even though he hadn’t –
“I really hate to eat and run, but I’m afraid I’m on the clock.” He winks at you, taking a moment to twirl your ruined panties around his index finger. “Just needed a taste of something sweet first.” He then tucks the garment into the back pocket of his jeans. 
At this rate, your entire underwear drawer was going to be empty before the month’s end. Which meant that you were going to have to put your foot down and demand he return them. At least a few pairs anyway. The brute wouldn’t be happy until you were walking around this town going commando. 
“Oh.” You mumble, feeling a pang of disappointment as you push your damp curls off of your forehead. “Um, okay.” But as quickly as it comes, it’s replaced by a fresh surge of heat in your belly when you finally notice the wetness still darkening his beard. Something he didn’t seem too worried about fixing.
“Aw, don’t look so disappointed, Bird.” His big hands go to frame your face, pulling you close to capture your lips in a heartfelt kiss that has you practically melting. And you can’t help the sliver of female satisfaction that slowly unfurls inside of you when you catch a hint of your warm, earthy scent on his skin. 
Because whether you realized it or not, you’d just marked your territory in a way no other woman could possibly compete with. This Beast was all yours for the time being. 
“There we go.” Grinning when you finally relax, your gentle giant pecks your lips one last time before stepping away from you. He winces slightly, adjusting his straining erection through his jeans, inwardly cursing the fact he had an appointment across town that he was probably already late for. “I’ll be at your place no later than 8:00pm with takeout from Mi Patron. Text me what you want and then be sure to call when you’re locking up, okay?”
“Okay, Ari.” You breathe, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip. “It’s a date.” On impulse, you raise up on your toes and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down for one last kiss – which he eagerly accepts without an ounce of fight. 
“Sorry.” Is all you say when you finally allow yourselves to come up for air. In truth, you weren’t feeling even remotely apologetic. But you did have an image to maintain so… “Must’ve lost my balance.”
“Right.” Ari whistles low, shaking his head as he pins you with a knowing look. “I’ll see you later. Behave while I’m gone, sweet girl.” With that, he turns on his heel and heads in the direction of your front door. Leaving you alone to make peace with the fact that you were falling for this man.
“I’m doomed.” You mutter, staring down at your bare toes while you debate your next move. On one hand, you supposed you could always skip town. But given his profession, you reasoned he’d be able to track you down with relative ease. 
Well, there went that option. With a sigh you bend down to pick up your capris so you can go about making yourself look presentable again, sans panties. The way you saw it, the only choice you had left was to go down swinging. Which made sense. And if that was the case, then…
“I’m taking you down with me, Levinson.”
END
___
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spdrvyn · 10 months
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parched — MIGUEL O'HARA
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(( I FINALLY WATCHED ATSV AAAGHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD !!! not gonna say anything because if i ramble it will 100% go into spoiler territory but it was probably the best movie i've ever seen no exaggeration. anyway, here's a small miguel one shot? drabble? spoiler-free :3 ))
READ PART 2 HERE.
You and Miguel led nearly entirely different lives.
He was constantly out and about. Putting his body, his mind through strenuous lengths for the sake of the people. For the sake of everyone. He sacrifices a piece of himself, bit by bit. Everyday. Just for everybody else's peace.
Your job almost felt a little silly next to his. After all, you were quite sure that being Spider-Man didn't offer a week of paid vacation. Which you were extremely grateful to have, by the way.
In all honesty, you felt the smallest piece of pity for him. You were able to catch up on your hobbies, enjoy shows that were put on your list for so long, and get more than 5 hours of sleep.
You knew that Miguel was barely getting a shred of that. How did you know? Even in two in the morning, while you were resting on the couch and catching up on yet another show, you hadn't heard him come in through the window that you normally keep open for him.
Worry seeps it's way into your brain as you try to focus on the pixels in front of you. Of course, you were scared for him. Everyday that he went out, the unexpected could happen and well... You didn't want to think too deep into it.
At least, your mind was distracted when you were working but now you were relaxing, the thoughts that you tried bury deep down under to the crevices of your mind were all coming back again.
It only concerned you more when throughout the week so far, you'd seen him less and less. On occasion, in the middle of the night, the click of a lock would alert you awake but before you could sit up and investigate, strong arms locked around your waist and a head pressed into your shoulder.
You sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing your show.
The worries, the yearning. It all gave you a swirling, growing feeling in your gut that you hadn't really familiarized yourself with. You weren't sure if you liked it, you weren't sure if you hated it. Though the way that it pierced into you like a newly sharpened spear just confused you even further.
Trying to focus on another feeling growing inside of you. Hunger and satisfying it, you hoped it would get all of this off of your mind as you lazily walk into the kitchen.
A reoccurring theme whenever you wanted a snack was once you actually made your way to the pantry, decisions were a foreign concept and your cravings were like trying to read binary code.
Instant ramen? Cookies? Chips? Ice cream?
Felt even worse this time when you hadn't particularly been exercising your brain recently, a mental note to yourself to be just a little bit on edge when you get a break like this.
You opt on giving up entirely, you slam the cabinet door, and turn around to get back to the couch until—
There's a weight against your back and waist, keeping you against the counter.
As you look down, you see the familiar shades of red and blue. Sighing, you look to a little over your shoulder and take a little peek. To see closed eyes signalled by Miguel's mask. The marks trembling shut, you feel his grip on you get tighter.
In a volume as close to a whisper, you break the silence, "Miguel? You okay?" Like you expected, he takes off his mask. Eyes screwed shut, brows furrowing as you can see the stress lines and deep circles under them.
He sighs but not out of being content, thumb tracing small shapes into your stomach. "Been so lonely, mi cielo."
Your heart clenches as that. That was right, you understood what kind of lover that he could be. Needy, clingy, these qualities festering even more each moment he spends away from you. You noticed how much he was holding back right now.
He normally liked to fix himself up before getting all comfortable and relaxed with you. Showering, brushing his curls, general self-care but the moment he came inside his first instinct was to go to you.
Those thoughts from a while ago that were nearly going to absorb you came back. To think the cold that Miguel had to endure out there from how tightly he wanted to absorb your warmth.
"I missed you so much. Me sentí tan solo, don't wanna let go."
You were going to respond but your mind practically short-circuited when he started pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You let him indulge himself, just a little while.
Of course, his job terrified you sometimes but seeing him like this. Seeing him let his guard down, talking about how much he missed you, calling you his darling.
Perhaps Spider-Men had their own charm but Miguel's just got you wrapped around his finger like nobody else could.
For a brief moment, he nibbles on the flesh at the back of your neck. Pressing one last kiss, "Will get fixed up, then voy a demostrarte cuánto te extrañé después de todo este tiempo."
Shamefully, you didn't pick up learning Spanish yet from how much Miguel speaks it to you. Yet through context clues and bashfully asking him what the things he said meant sometimes.
You knew exactly what was going to come next.
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Text
Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1
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RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.
(Y/N) - Your name.
NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!
Word count: 2.5k
Part 2
Masterlist
October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.
That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.
You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).
One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.
“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.
“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”
“Please!”
Stab.
“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”
Stab.
“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”
The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.
“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.
“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.
“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.
“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.
For now.
Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.
“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”
How fucking dare he.
How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.
For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.
He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?
They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.
Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.
“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”
Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.
“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.
“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.
“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.
Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.
Something was off.
Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.
Your phone started to ring.
Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
No answer.
You left out a huff and tried again.
“Hellooo?”
When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.
“I think you got the wrong numb-“
“Wanna play a game?”
“I’m-I’m sorry?”
“I said, wanna play a game?”
“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”
“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.
“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.
“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”
Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.
“Warmer.”
Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.
“Colder.”
You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.
“Hotter.”
You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.
“Hotter.”
You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.
“You're on fucking fire baby.”
Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.
“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.
You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.
“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.
“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.
You black out.
“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.
“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.
422 notes · View notes
krypticcafe · 11 months
Note
Y/N, staring at König: I bet I could take him
Soap: ... in a fight, right?
Y/N: :)
Soap: In a fight, right?
Alternatively, little ooc but
König: I could take you on
Y/N: ... like in a fight?
König: Ye- yes?
Y/N: Oh. Pity.
König: What.
Take On Me
rating: teen
pairing(s): König x GN!Reader
warning(s): suggestive themes, language, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as a sergeant, fluff at the end, possible grammar errors
a/n: decided to make this a one-shot! I enjoy writing and reading sexual tension, but ironically, I'm always on the fence about writing full smut. oh and please ignore the poor quality of the fight scene, I can't write them for shit :')
synopsis: fight or not, you're pretty sure you could take him on.
The room was filled with the smell of sweat and leather as soldiers took on their training time in the base's surprisingly sizable gym. Several were utilizing the exercise machines, some simply resting on the benches, and others making light conversation.
Currently, you were in the midst of putting your sparring partner in a deadlock, motivated by the small crowd that cheered and winced at the sight. With a face flushed red, your opponent tapped out and a chorus of boisterous laughter, groans, and exclamations rang around you. You threw yourself off of them, helping your partner up and thanking them while also throwing in a compliment on their performance as a show of good sportsmanship. As you stepped off the platform, you were given several pats on the back and comments. While it was definitely an ego boost, you were by no means the best in the base, but people knew that you were on the 141 for a reason, and your combat skills were nothing to laugh about.
Feeling a harsh slap on the back, you turned and gripped their arm, twisting it at an uncomfortable angle since your body was still working on instinct.
"Ow ow ow-! It's me!" Soap yelped, but you further clenched your hand, "I was just going to congratulate you! Christ almighty, you've got a grip-"
"You scotsmen have a real funny way of congratulating people then," you quipped, letting go of his arm, "Honestly Soap, you should know better than smacking a soldier right after they get out of the ring."
He muttered under his breath, holding his sore wrist to his chest in mock offense and sighing, "How about I treat you to a water then? Consider it an apology of sorts."
"Oh you mean the jug on the bench that's just about 4 meters away? Why, I'd be so honored to have you as my escort, Sergent McTavish."
"Awa' n bile yer heid!" He scoffed with amusement, "Can't even let me do something nice without takin' a stab at me, can ya?"
You shook your head, laughing with him while you two went to grab a drink. He at least had the courtesy to pass you a towel to wipe your sweat off. Hanging it around your shoulders, you grabbed a bottle and started chugging. Tilting your head back, you noticed in the corner of your eye another match that was going on. It wasn't surprising, considering how multiple sparring matches would go on simultaneously all the time. But it wasn't the match itself that got your attention, but rather the person that was in it.
You recognized him instantly with how he gained notoriety for his size (no, not in that way, but you'd be lying if you said the thought hasn't crossed your mind for the briefest of moments) amongst the soldiers, even though he was part of KorTac. His presence led you to the conclusion that SpecGru and KorTac were most likely holding another joint operation together again, unsurprising since they're practically sister companies. Not to mention, the two of you had small talk in the past in passing from previous missions together and whenever you bumped into each other on base.
Staring for a while more, you watched as he viciously pummeled his opponent into the ground, barely breaking a sweat. Catching sight of his eyes behind his dark hood, you caught the way they lit up at his victory, as if delighted by the violence in an almost animalistic manner. It made your arms prick with goosebumps, you didn't want to know why. It was a surprise to find him in such a state since every time you've seen him, his eyes were usually darting around like a skittish lamb, contradicting his appearance in every sense. But who were you to question it? After all, your own lieutenant was feared like the grim reaper in the battlefield, but at base with the others, he was just another British geezer at heart.
Soap whistled and stood by you, eyeing the way you were fixed on the match in front of you. "Looks like someone's caught yer eye, aye?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah I guess." You hummed, not taking your eyes off the Austrian as he pinned his opponent down.
Soap raised a brow and smirked. It wasn't hard for him to catch on, but he was surprised to see you so entranced by a person for once. "I see... well, I don't blame you. The guy sticks out like a sore thumb and he's an absolute unit."
You nodded absent-mindedly, a little too focused on the way König flexed while keeping his enemy down. Much to your demise, his shirt was painfully tight-fitting, especially when damp with perspiration and christ, you felt like you had to tear your eyes from staring at his thighs for too long. How can someone be built so... so...
Delicious?
Before you knew it, the fight ended and König was beginning to head your way, most likely to grab water. Without thinking, you turned to the side and muttered under your breath, "I could probably take him."
"Oooo, cocky now, aren't ya?" Soap laughed, missing the message. You, on the other hand, tried to keep your composure, rubbing the towel on your neck.
"Uh, sure... You could put it that way."
The scotsman had a look of confusion and was about to ask you to elaborate until he saw König pull up beside you. "Oi, König! You did a real good job out there-"
Looking at Soap, you saw a mirth in his eyes that you immediately recognized, your eyes widening as you began to mouth silent protests to him and gesturing for him to 'not do whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing'.
"-you think you can handle another round? You two already know each other, right? I was thinkin' you could use a change of pace, and what's better than going against a prized member of the 141?"
You watched as König eyed you up and down cautiously, and you had to resist letting a shiver run down your spine. Why did he have to look at you like that? You knew the bare minimum of the guy, and yet you were acting like a fool in your own head.
After he was done sizing you up, he nodded, his eyes lighting up, "I could take you on."
"Like in a fight?" Once more, your mouth had outrun your brain, probably fried from the way he was practically checking you out.
"Y-Yes?" König stuttered, caught off-guard by your bizarre question. What other connotation could his words have had?
"Oh. Pity." You mumbled with a sigh, tossing your water bottle to the side along with your towel, beginning to walk towards the sparring box.
"Wait what-"
You cut off König's confusion as you hopped over into the box, folding your arms and leaning on the ropes. "So we gonna fight or what, soldier?"
"I- uh," He paused, trying to get his mind into the present. He shook his head and nodded, "Yes, sergent."
There was something about the way he strided over to the ring and only needed to swing his legs over the ropes to get in that made your heart beat twice, or maybe it was the way he looked back at you, the two of you staring each other down like hungry animals preparing for a cage match.
Though your hunger was that of a different kind if you were being honest.
Soap stood outside on the side of the box, playing referee for the match. At his signal, you set yourself at a stance and got a feel for the area, preparing yourself.
As you expected, König struck first. After all, you weren't just staring at him during his match, you were watching as well, which gave you a bit of an unfair advantage, but you figured it'd balance out his size advantage. Moving to the side, you followed up your dodge with a quick jab to his side. You were about to make another, but he had more control over his reflexes than you thought. He blocked it and countered by hitting you square between your shoulder and chest. The two of you were even.
He was a formidable opponent, certainly not at the level of Ghost or Price, but good enough that you'd think he'd ought to be a candidate for the 141. Sure, his technique was sloppy, but if he cleaned it up, then combined with his strength, he could be one hell of a soldier. Soap seemed to take note of his potential, too, giving König tips here and there. You'd almost forgotten this was supposed to be practice for him.
You were starting to grow exhausted as the fight went on, it hadn't been that long, but you two were lasting for quite a while in the ring, and neither side had held back. At several points throughout the fight, one of you would get in a hit or move in a way that had Soap cringing and gritting his teeth, watching at the edge of his seat. Hmph. At least someone was enjoying themselves.
While the fight was a nice way for you to get an eyeful of your opponent, it wasn't that enjoyable when you were panting and sweating your ass off, counting all the non-sexy bruises you'd wake up with later. Wanting to put things to an end, you looked for the right chance, dropping and sliding past his legs before getting up and propelling yourself forward. With a leap, you launched yourself onto König's back, latching onto it and pulling him down with all your weight. Just before he'd come crashing down, you swung yourself around his torso, shifting to his front so you wouldn't get crushed in the fall and further push him down.
He went down like a tree, shaking the platform as he made contact. Soap hollered in awe, whistling at your takedown. "That's our sergeant! Steamin' Jesus, wasn't that a show?"
You were panting hard from the stunt, but you managed to give König a sly grin, leaning down that you were just inches away from his veil, "So whaddya say König? You done, or you want go another round?"
"I- I'm done-" His voice strained, writhing under you since the pressure on his chest was making it hard to breathe properly. In addition, he was trying his best to not stare too much since even he was aware of how this looked, with you settled on his chest, knees on either side of his head and effectively trapping him with your thighs, not to mention your hands held his wrists above his head, locking him in a very compromising position. Your view was just as nice, giving you a good look at his face, or at least what you could see of it. A part of you wanted to say it was only because they were the only thing of him you could see, but you felt your heart flutter when the two of you locked eyes. It never had occurred to you, but his eyes were a sage green with a muddled ring of crystal blue that glimmered under the lights above, and the way he looked at you alone almost made you breathless again.
When were his eyes so damn pretty?
"Good choice." Although you played it off as a friendly threat, in reality, you were relieved he didn't want to go again, far too weary for another round and undoubtedly, you'd lose that one.
Rolling off his back, you stood up and outstretched a hand to him. Even though you couldn't see his full face, you could tell he appreciated the gesture by the friendly crinkle of his eyes and the way he took your hand, yelping when you yanked him up.
"Whoops, too hard? My bad."
König shook his head, "Oh no, not at all, I was just surprised. Ah, and thank you for helping me practice, Sergeant. It helped me realize a few things I need to improve."
"It's no problem at all, König, I'm glad I could help. All that matters is that you got something useful out of that loss and turn it into a gain."
"Price really must be getting to you."
"Shut it MacTavish."
The two of you stepped out of the ring and started to pack your things, further discussing improvements for König and some for yourself. Soap left a little early to "attend business with Ghost" (probably to ramble about the fight), to which you cursed him out with a glare for ditching you so abruptly. Now, it was just you and the Austrian in the gym.
"Well, I'll be going back to my place now, I guess I'll see you sometime soon?"
"Yes, of course. Maybe we could spar again sometime soon?" König asked, much to your surprise.
"Sure, I'd love to," you smiled to yourself a moment, debating your urges and ultimately deciding to shoot your shot because when else were you going to have the confidence to? Insecurity be damned, the post-victory adrenaline was getting to you. "Maybe we can even have some more... private matches?"
"Mhm, I wouldn't mind that. But I think we'd need someone to watch, no? Or unless you want to record and we can study it."
Not what you're implying, but his response definitely could be taken that way, causing your face to warm up again. Maybe if you pushed him in the right direction, he'd realize. "Er- I was kinda thinking we'd do it in my place, maybe? Unless you're more comfortable at yours."
All your attempts were going over his head as he grew more and more confused. "Sergeant, I don't believe the rooms are big enough for a fight-"
You burst out laughing, giggling to yourself at how ridiculous it all was, you dancing around your point and how it was leading him on a wild goose chase without even knowing it. Wiping a tear from your eye, you wheezed, "I- ohmygod- I'm so sorry- it's just, wow-"
You felt bad for laughing, but it was the only way you could make things less awkward for yourself and ease the tension. "I'm so sorry, König it's just- you're not really good at picking up hints, huh? But honestly, I should've been more straightforward with you, so,"
"What I'm trying to say is," Taking in a deep breath, you stood straight and looked him in the eye determinedly, "Would you like to hang out sometime? Just the two of us? Together?"
"König?"
Silence.
At that moment, König had put all the puzzle pieces together, or at least what little of them he had, and realized that you'd been (horribly) flirting with him the entire time. He also realized how hopelessly clueless he sounded. Like a computer needing to reboot, he began to overheat underneath his mask and sputtered, an incoherent jumble of words both German and English spilling from his lips. You giggled and pat him on the shoulder, "I take that as a yes, then?"
He let out a slew of words in German, catching himself immediately afterward, "Yes! I would love that- I mean, like that!"
"Really? Oh thank god, I've actually been meaning to ask that for a while now," you nervously chuckled, grabbing a pen and notepad from your bag and taking his hand in yours, putting a note in his palm, "Hope you don't mind if I just write something down... I think the weekend I'll be available so until then?"
"Mhm," He mumbled, trying not to fixate too much on how your hand was holding his as if you two weren't throwing hands earlier.
"Great! See you then!" You pressed a quick peck on his cheek and scurried away before he could react. You sneaky lil thing.
Stunned, König stood still for a solid minute until finally looking at his palm to see what you wrote.
"Here's my phone and room number! Next time we meet, be prepared because I can and will take you on! On a date, of course."
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theambitiouswoman · 1 year
Text
Signs you’re dating a high-value guy:
He cares about seeing you play at your best
A great guy has no interest in seeing you scale back your ambitions so that he can feel good about himself.
On the contrary, he loves to see you flourish. For him, supporting your success only means more excitement and adventure. He loves seeing what you make of your life and cares about protecting your dreams.
In short, the high-value guy lives to see you playing at an extraordinary level.
He isn’t afraid of you over-taking him
Guys worth dating aren’t fussed about out-earning you or worried about who is further ahead in their career.
He won’t get insecure because you happen to be a lawyer or have a PhD, nor will he fret about your substantial paycheck. He doesn’t measure his life in competition with yours, because (would you believe it?) he has self-esteem and measures his life on more than just achievement.
He wants to provide for you
This one might seem like it immediately invalidates the previous point, but it doesn’t.
Here’s why: Even though he’s fine with you over-taking him financially, a high-value guy still wants to be someone who can provide for you in all kinds of ways.
This doesn’t mean he wants to pay for everything, but he’ll work hard to be the kind of man who can protect and serve you, whether by being emotionally strong, financially independent, or by being able to treat you to incredible experiences and indulgent surprises.
He’s turned on by your independence
“Damsel in constant distress” is not sexy to a high-value guy.
A man worth being with delights in seeing you handle your own life (even if he loves to help now and then), and will want to encourage anything that promotes your autonomy and independence.
While every man loves to feel needed, only insecure daddy-type guys seek to acquire importance by seeing you helpless and entirely dependent on them.
He’s responsive to your needs, even if he doesn’t always get them right first time
Ok, he might not know the *exact* words that turn you on most right away, or he might not realise that “quality time” is your love language, or he may not know that handwritten birthday cards make you melt.
But he learns. And responds when he drops the ball and gets it wrong.
The best guy isn’t a mind-reader, but he is an expert at following the signs if you make them clear enough.
Just enjoy it (and for god’s sake let him know how happy his effort makes you ­– positive reinforcement works!). Showing him that you notice and appreciate his listening skills is the best way to get more of it.
He doesn’t need to be asked twice to come and help you out of a bind
You’re in trouble? You need help with your university paper and want someone to come and read it at 4am the night before submission? You need to be saved from your family?
He’ll jump out of bed and into his car to come and save you before you’ve even put down the phone. He might not like the “damsel in constant distress”, but the “damsel having an occasional freak out” will make him drive all night like a knight riding to save a princess.
He won’t take your crap
Be warned: high-value guys have high expectations. If you’re ok with that, this will only raise your game.
He’s strong, and that means he doesn’t put up with draining people in his life.
He has no interest in indulging complaining and doesn’t have time to waste endlessly going over old problems or moaning about the past.
If you’re being unreasonable, he’ll tell you. To your face. Like a man. In other words, be ready for a guy who will stand up for himself and won’t stand for being walked over.
He takes care of his life with minimal fuss
High value guys limit the amount of time they spend wallowing in self-pity after a setback. They are responsive in the face of failure and spring into action at the sight of problems rather than falling apart.
Of course, he’s still human. And vulnerable. Which is a good thing. So sometimes he’ll need love and reassurance that everything will be ok. But then he’ll be back on his feet and fighting to get a grip again.
When the castle crumbles, he’s the one who starts stacking bricks to rebuild the fortress.
He cares about keeping small promises
In the book The Road by Cormac McCarthy, the son tells his father: “If you break little promises, you’ll break big ones.”
This is essentially the philosophy of a high value guy. It’s his code. He doesn’t feel ok simply shrugging his shoulders when he promised to pick up your shopping on the way home and just forgot. He kicks himself when he promised he’d book that restaurant and it totally slipped his mind.
The idea of not living up to his word is death to him. As it should be for all of us.
Speaking of which…
He chooses his words carefully
A guy who is great relationship material says nothing idly. He doesn’t make empty proclamations of love that he doesn’t feel in his heart.
He won’t say trite phrases or go through the motions if he thinks he’s just using cheap sentiment to soothe you without addressing the real problem.
If he says he adores you, he means it.
He’ll comfort you. He’ll stroke your hair and tell you you’re incredible. But he won’t make everything sound easy or simple when it’s not. Because he cares about big ideas like Truth and Honesty.
He wants to improve without needing to be asked
Great guys are always looking for ways to be better.
He doesn’t want to get healthy because you asked him to, he wants to do it because he takes pride in caring about his body.
He reads books not to show off, but because he takes education seriously.
He seeks adventure not to impress you, but because he wants to grab life and suck up experiences while he’s on this earth.
He seeks success because he wants to fulfil his potential, not because he arbitrarily wants a bigger paycheck.
At his core, he’s self-motivated. That might sometimes mean he tries a bit harder than he needs to, but that’s a much better problem to have than having a lazy man who never makes an effort.
He’ll “grasp nettles”
I stole this one from advertising genius David Ogilvy, who wrote “leaders grasp nettles”.
What Ogilvy meant by this is that leaders in life are willing to do the difficult action that no-one else will. This is the same of any high-value guy. He doesn’t run from the difficult or sensitive conversation. He confronts problems. He makes the difficult phone call.
He doesn’t put off troubles hoping they’ll just blow over. Which is why others respect him and look up to him.
He’ll invest in the relationship without losing himself in it
Maybe it sounds romantic to think of the Edward Cullen obsessive-love type boyfriend, but in the real world a high-value guy is capable of falling loving without obsessing (he can still be passionate and intense, just not in the creepy stalker-esque way vampire romance novels portray it).
Guys who are well-balanced have multiple sources of joy in their world. Friends. Family. Fulfilling work. Because they’ve learnt how to be happy being single first (as I’ve spoken about before).
All of these are important to him, even if eventually you become the most important thing to him.
He listens to what you tell him and responds
As mentioned earlier, high value guys want to make you happy. And this means they listen. They look for clues. They are endlessly curious about you as their partner and want to understand your mind.
You’ll usually see this in the amount of thought he puts into gifts and trips, particularly if it involves things he’s clearly decided based on your previous conversations.
Of course, that does NOT mean he’ll always get it right. Even high-value guys will sometimes get it completely wrong and screw up badly (we have to be realistic, after all). But crucially, he’ll keep trying to fulfil your needs. He’ll remember when he messed up and adjust his behaviour. And if you communicate your standards well, he’ll strive to live up to them.
He has unique pairings
High value guys, like high value women, don’t rely on a single personality trait.
He can be intellectual and deep, but he can also be exciting and totally silly. He’s comfortable being sexual, but he’s also a gentleman and has class. He’s fiercely loyal, but ready to double-down on his principles when his view differs from everyone else’s.
The best people always embody both sides of the coin.
He builds a future with you
The high-value guy who is serious about you will want to make you the strongest team in the world. He’s loyal and wants to find ways to bring you closer together, which means he thinks about the future with you and discusses it openly.
That doesn’t mean he’ll necessarily move quickly, but it does mean he wants to invest in the relationship and make your emotional connection stronger so that he can share his world with you.
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exlibrisseverus · 2 months
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The torn bond of friendship
The silence between us every time we meet makes my heart ache.
You avert your gaze just so you don't have to look me in the eye. I know that you don't hate me. But to be honest, I'd rather have your hate than your pity.
You wish things had gone differently. But I can't change for you the way you would like me to. Nevertheless, you are important to me.
(You always will be.)
[I tried to put myself in his shoes and that's how these few lines came about. The background in the illustration is a photo I took, it's the view from my window.]
The artist's commentary – psychological aspect/my two cents…
->
Nobody is perfect, no human being is.
Especially not adolescent teenagers who literally have almost no idea about life. Who lack empathy, compassion, maturity, experience and so many other things. All of us have certainly lost a friend at some point in our childhood or adolescence. Close friendships at a young age and the experiences associated with them can have a strong influence on our behavior later in life. All of a person's first intensive relationships with family, friends, etc., whether positive or negative, shape their world view and character immensely.
We can't expect a young person to be flawless and perfect. Maturity comes with years and experience. It is not uncommon for children and youth to be self-centered and egocentric, but that does not make them bad people. To a certain extent, selfishness is even important. As we grow up, we learn to act autonomously, make decisions and form our own opinions. It is clear that we can make mistakes during this process and possibly hurt others. We all make mistakes on our journey through life, that is part of growing up. That is a part of this life.
I have to remind myself each time that they were practically still children as at that time.
Sorry for my poor English, it’s not my native language. I do my best though. Thanks for reading 🖤
(Additional edit 10.02.2024 Tumblr confuses me a little bit, i was wondering why my previous image lost it’s quality after uploading. It took me too long to draw and i need to show the details. Anyways for better detailed view -> I’ve split the artwork. 😌)
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Steve is always considered to be the spoiled rich boy of the group, and no one corrects this. They frequently pester him for rides or snacks or movie nights, and Steve always comes through with the best of the best for them, so absolutely everyone in the Party believes that he's this incredibly spoilt only child in a big fancy house, footing the bill for bonding nights because it's the least he can do.
On the first Christmas after Vecna, Steve goes a little overboard getting gifts.
Will gets a premium art kit, high quality paints and new brushes and a few canvases, along with three sketchbooks. The first page of one is covered with a drawing Steve spent weeks perfecting. It looks pretty mediocre, but it's just a cute little picture of Will as his DnD character saving the party from a monster.
Mike gets an electric guitar and amp, along with sheet music to the songs that Mike had been gushing about since meeting Eddie.
Lucas gets a new basketball, a case of New Coke, and tickets to a Pacers game on January 2, 1987. There's two, but Steve insisted that it was for Lucas and Max. He was just the driver.
Dustin makes out like a bandit. He gets a new game console (the NES he had been ranting about for months; Steve has already told Ms. Henderson that it was a gift), a brand new home computer, a full set of haircare products, a new hat, and Steve's house key.
Max gets a fancy dagger. It's beautifully made, inlaid with a starburst-cut emerald, and small enough to fit snugly in her winter boot, so she can feel protected everywhere. She also gets a new skateboard, which is probably her favorite gift.
Eleven gets a thick notebook, half-filled with recipes that Steve's noticed she likes. He promises to teach her how to make them, and how to come up with her own, whenever she wants.
Robin gets about a hundred different little gifts, just trinkets that reminded Steve of her. She also gets a promise that Steve will help her find her own car.
Argyle and Nancy both get less personal gifts; Argyle receives a stack of comfortable, soft sweaters, and Nancy gets a few books written by female reporters.
Jonathan gets another new camera, and enough film to last him until next Christmas.
Joyce gets handmade blankets, soft and fuzzy, and about fifteen different trinkets that Steve insists remind him of her. Every single one of them has to do with motherhood.
Hopper gets a case of beer, a pack of cigarettes, and the deed to the land surrounding his cabin. Steve also promises to help make some additions to the cabin, to make it just as spacious and homey as they need.
Eddie gets a little bit of everything: haircare products, clothes, records, tapes, a new amp, a plastic container full of the cookies he always asks Steve to make him, socks, cigarettes, anything Steve can think of to get him.
Steve doesn't expect anything, and he's not being a self-pitying, spoiled little rich kid convinced that nothing these common folk could get him would be worth it. Steve hadn't received Christmas gifts since he was seven, he knows he's not worth it, and really, he likes seeing how happy everyone is at his gifts; it makes him feel good to see that he can make his family so happy.
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yoisami · 8 months
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˚₊‧୨୧ ENOUGH FOR ME
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[૮₍ ˃ࡇ˂ ₎ა]: somewhat inspired by taylor swift's "daylight". it's impossible to not fall in love with her lyrics tbh. never wrote for sae before so i hope the quality is acceptable :')
tags. sae x gn!reader, 838 wc, relationship trauma, hurt/comfort, damaged self-esteem, mentions of cheating, use of profanities.
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it was hard for you to believe that you were enough.
all the company you've kept since adolescence weren't enjoyable. whether it be friends, exes — none of these relationships brought you joy, let alone satisfaction.
your so-called friends in high school always seemed to have scattered hints here and there that they disliked your presence. it was a rare occurrence to see a genuine smile on their faces when you initiated conversations with them, and you were used to walking on the very edge of every path.
what is it that you lacked that constantly resulted in apathetic expressions when you put your opinion in discussions?
while it was difficult to bandage the splits in your heart, you managed to cover it well with white lies until graduation arrived, when you finally deleted all their contacts with a self-pitying smile.
and god, you really thought your relationships in university would turn out better — you managed to convince yourself that good people would soon enter your life, and that eventually, someone would be able to rescue you out of the ocean of misery you've been swimming in.
sure, your friends were nicer, and friendlier. but your boyfriends weren't. the first one only fed you a teaspoon of affection during the six months you dated, and lazily cut the ties with you over text claiming that he was no longer interested, and that you were too boring.
your second relationship was the most painful out of them all. you were discarded in the corner of his mind like an old doll after a month, and he began pursuing 'prettier' girls in your major. your kind heart was fucking stupid for granting him another chance to fix up the mistakes he made, because it ensued even more arguments that seared your skin burning red. his words pierced like daggers, and he finally did it for you when you watched him kiss his girl best friend as a dare. without realising, he was bleeding you dry as he pulled his friend closer, hands sinfully exploring her skin with a dirty smirk on his lips. in one night, he eradicated your confidence — it came crumbling down like an avalanche.
the reflection started to look ugly; you frowned upon your features, your wounds, and your misfortune. with a negative light cast over your sight, you were persuaded that you were simply not enough for anyone.
today marked two years since the end of your cruel relationship with him. your internal wounds still remained as scars on your glass-like heart. the memories resurfaced from time to time, but itoshi sae locked them away in the vault of your mind, throwing the key in a faraway void when he declared his feelings to you, and you only.
you were hesitant, your trust for people severed, and you held iron shields over your heart. your interest lingered for a while, only for you to anxiously reel it away when you recalled all the negative outcomes of your past relationships. you were certain that a relationship with itoshi sae would end up the same — bitter emotions and broken heartstrings.
but oh... you were delighted to see how wrong you were. you were so so wrong.
you've never seen someone love you like tomorrow was going to end — like it was his last chance at life; like you were enough for him.
sae kissed you like you were the most beautiful being alive; he embraced you like you were his most prized possession. his devotion, love, protection and care was combined into an ethereal mix that came in the form of his heart, and he gave it to you with zero regrets.
you could find him at the bottom of every cliff, with strong arms that extended out to you and a small smile that meant he'll catch you if you ever fell.
as someone who was deprived of genuine affection and care, it was truly impossible to not fall in love with him. to others, sae was condescending, and often unfriendly, but to you, he was the warmest person on a cold night.
and he was the one who dived in that ocean to bring you back on shore.
on this bleak late-autumn morning, sae reminded you again that you belonged with him. each kiss he pressed on your shoulder blade teemed with love, each pat on the side of your waist evoked butterflies in your stomach, and each whisper against your earlobe was like a feather that delicately tickled your skin.
and as you turned to face sae on this rainy morning, you're both relishing the presence of each other. his hair was disheveled from the movements he made in his sleep, and your cheeks were rosy from the warmth of the bed — neither of you looked perfect in this moment. still, you were everything he ever wanted, and you couldn't ask for anyone better.
the corners of his lips turn upwards, and sae sealed his affection for you with a fervorous kiss, as he held you close to his heart.
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© yoisami 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.
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