#╭ menu. muse list

[vntagetee-archive]

⸻ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒

*primary **secondary ***test +request only &private

⸻ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒

all too well ( taylor swift's short film )

** emily byrne. twenty-one. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; sadie sink

the bad seed ( 2018 )

* emma grossman. pre-teens. asexual. open for plotting. fc; mckenna grace

barbie ( 2023 )

** ken carson. twenties. asexual. open for plotting. fc; ryan gosling

batman ( various media )

** barbara wilson / batgirl. eighteen. pansexual / panromantic. open plotting & shipping. BATMAN & ROBIN. fc; alicia silverstone

** chase meridian. thirties-forties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open plotting & selective shipping. BATMAN FOREVER.  fc; nicole kidman & suki waterhouse

* dana tan. nineteen. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open plotting & selective shipping. BATMAN BEYOND. fc; arden cho

** rachel dawes. thirties-forties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open plotting & highly selective shipping. NOLANVERSE BATMAN. tdk verse + au!rachel survives. fc; keri russell & daisy edgar jones

* selina kyle. thirty-three. bisexual / biromantic. open plotting & shipping. THE BATMAN. fc; zoe kravitz

*vicki vale. forty. bisexual / biromantic. open plotting & selective shipping. BATMAN COMICS. fc; jessica chastain

the craft ( 1996 )

** bonnie harper. eighteen-early twenties. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; india eisley & neve campbell

* nancy downs. eighteen-early twenties. lesbian / homoromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; sophie thatcher & fairuza balk

disney ( various media )

*ella tremaine. twenties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open plotting & selective shipping. CINDERELLA. fc; lily james

* ursula. forties. asexual. open for plotting. fc; melissa mccarthy

don't worry darling ( 2022 )

** alice chambers. twenty-six. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. fc; florence pugh

everything everywhere all at once ( 2022 )

*joy wang. twenty-three. lesbian / homoromantic. open for plotting & selective shipping. fc; stephanie hsu

the faculty ( 1998 )

** delilah profitt. eighteen-twenties. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; melissa barrera & jordana brewster

** zeke tyler. eighteen-twenties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; josh hartnett & jack o'connell

gone girl ( 2014 )

** amy dunne. forty-three. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; rosamund pike

halloween ( various media )

** john tate. teens-forties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. HALLOWEEN H20. fc; josh hartnett

i know what you did last summer ( 1997 )

+ helen shivers. twenty. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; sarah michelle gellar. 

interview with a vampire ( various media )

*claudia. appears eighteen. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; anya taylor joy & bailey bass

lethal weapon ( various media )

* lorna cole. thirties. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; renee russo & jessica chastain

the menu ( 2022 )

** tyler ledford. thirty-one. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; nicholas hoult

the mod squad ( 1999 )

** julie barnes. twenty-three. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; florence pugh

pearl ( 2022 )

** pearl - @xfact0r

promising young woman ( 2020 )

** cassie thomas. thirty. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & selective shipping. fc; carey mulligan

psycho ( 1959 )

** marion crane. thirty-one. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; samara weaving

robin hood ( various media )

*lady marian. twenties. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. fc; alicia vikander

romeo & juliet ( 1996 )

*juliet capulet. twenty-one. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. fc; kristine froseth

scream ( 1996 )

** sidney prescott. eighteen-early forties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; neve campbell & katilyn dever

** tatum riley. eighteen. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; rose mcgowan & billie lourd

teenage mutant ninja turtles ( various media )

*april o'neil. twenty-eight. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; emma stone

titanic ( 1997 )

** rose dewitt-bukater. twenties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. fc; kate winslet

x ( 2022 )

** bobby-lynne parker. twenty-three. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; brittany snow

* maxine minx. - @xfact0r

⸻ 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

angel

* cordelia chase. twenties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & selective shipping. fc; charisma carpenter

black mirror

** yorkie. ( s3, e4 ) twenty-one. homosexual / homoromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; mackenzie davis

buffy the vampire slayer

** anya jenkins. eighteen-twenties. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. fc; emma caulfield

** dawn summers. teens. asexual. open for plotting. fc; michelle trachtenberg

**willow rosenberg. eighteen-twenties. lesbian / homoromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. fc; alyson hannigan

dawson's creek

** jen lindley. eighteen-twenties. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; michelle williams

game of thrones

** talisa stark. twenties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & closed shipping ( robb's only ). fc; oona chaplin

the musketeers ( bbc )

*constance d'artagnan. twenty-six. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. fc; tamla kari

*queen anne. twenty-three. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. fc; alexandra dowling

peaky blinders

*ada shelby. twenties. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; sophie rundle

**lizzie stark-shelby. thirty. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & closed shipping ( tommy's only ). fc; natasha o'keefe

power rangers

+ kimberly hart. nineteen. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; kaia gerber

roseanne

*darlene conner. teens-twenties. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; sara gilbert

succession

** jess jordan. thirties. lesbian / homoromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; juliana canfield

** rava roy. forties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; natalie gold

tell me lies

** lucy albright. nineteen-twenties. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; grave van patten

the last of us

*sarah miller. teens-thirties. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; logan browning & nico parker

the white lotus

** daphne sullivan. thirty-two. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & selective shipping. fc; meghann fahy

** portia. twenty-seven. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; haley lu richardson

the x-files

** dana scully. thirties-forties. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. fc; gillian anderson

[ilictaffairs-archive]

⸻ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒

*primary **secondary ***test +request only &private

⸻ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒

batman ( various media )

*gia tedesco. twenty-eight. bisexual / biromantic (male leaning). open plotting & shipping. daughter of a prominent mob attorney & real estate agent. fc; danielle campbell 

*larken forrest. thirty-three. bisexual / biromantic (male leaning). open plotting & highly selective shipping. secretary at wayne enterprises & single mother. fc; dakota johnson

star wars ( various media )

** vesper de lesseps. twenty-eight. bisexual / biromantic (no preference). open for plotting & highly selective shipping. princess turned smuggler. fc; adelaide kane

titanic ( various media )

** florence 'flo' reynolds. twenty-five. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & selective shipping. stage actress. fc; hannah dodd

⸻ 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

daredevil

** yasmin ayala. thirty-two. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. bartender at josie's & dance instructor. fc; ana de armas

house of the dragon

** eloise belfron. late-teens. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. helaena's lady in waiting. fc; rose williams

the musketeers ( bbc )

*mary turner. twenty-six. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & selective shipping. assistant to the town doctor. fc; gugu mbatha-raw

the x-files

* zelda mulder. twenty-two. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. runs a paranormal private detective agency. daughter of fox mulder & dana scully. fc; margaret qualley

** marissa lucas. thirty-one. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. grocery store cashier & alien abductee fc; shannyn sossamon

⸻ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

*amelia thomas. twenty. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. princess & college student. fc; elle fanning

**arden waverly. thirty. lesbian / homoromantic. open for plotting & shipping. hacker. fc; kristen stewart

*bianca reyes. twenty-eight. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. jewelry designer & mob boss' daughter. fc; lucy alves

*calista st. james. twenty-three. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. animal trainer. fc; halle bailey

*charlotte stewart. thirty. bisexual / biromantic. open for plotting & shipping. high school guidance counselor. fc; amanda seyfried

** gillian west. forty. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. couples therapist & podcast host. fc; anne hathaway

** greta morton aka the shape. forty. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & highly selective shipping. remote customer service rep & vigilante. fc; lupita nyong'o

*hannah parker. thirty-five. bisexual / biromantic (no preference). open for plotting & selective shipping. doggy day care worker & serial killer. fc; aubrey plaza

** ireland cardoza. twenty-five. lesbian / homoromantic. open for plotting & shipping. actress & social media influencer. fc; camila mendes

** jenna wilder. twenty-three. bisexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. hotel heiress. fc; sabrina carpenter

** joelle hart. thirty-seven. bisexual / biromantic (no preference). open for plotting & shipping. personal trainer. fc; megan fox

** leia leung. forty. lesbian / homoromantic. open for plotting & shipping. celebrity chef & restaurant owner. fc; gemma chan

*mackenzie abrams. thirty-six. heterosexual / heterosexual. open for plotting & shipping. photographer. fc; emmy rossum

*maia madden. twenty-eight. bisexual / biromantic (female leaning). open for plotting & shipping. publicist. fc; simone ashley

** paige ingram. thirty. heterosexual / heteroromantic. open for plotting & shipping. hair stylist. fc; sookie waterhouse

* simone diamond. twenty-five. bisexual / biromantic (no preference). open for plotting & shipping. singer/songwriter. fc; taylor swift

* sloane meyer. thirty-eight. pansexual / panromantic. open for plotting & shipping. er surgeon & ex-army field surgeon. fc; sophia bush

*willow donovan. twenty-two. bisexual / biromantic (male leaning). open for plotting & shipping. college student & bartista. fc; madelyn cline

[blightead]

me, sitting here with my muse list like who will i get rid of . . . and who will i add.

[siixkiing]

Debating...either adding a ‘New Gods’ verse here OR the possibility of a side/new blog possibly...since I really do be liking the version of Sun Wukong.

[ricecodes]

[ Theme #11: TTYL ]

Preview + Install (Theme Garden) Live Preview + Static Preview + Code (GitHub)

A responsive, all-in-one theme that includes the option to hide the about, navigation, muses, following, and recently liked sections!

Features:

Day and night toggle button that will stay in the selected mode until it is turned off. A dark mode option is available for those who prefer a dark color scheme on their blogs instead of the default light colors. The day and night mode button will also change according to the scheme you are using.

6 sections are included in the theme (blog posts, an about me, navigation links, muses, following, and recently liked posts).

Left or right sidebar. Both layouts are responsive on multiple screens including mobile.

You can also choose icons that you like for various elements of the theme (i.e. the menu links in the sidebar) from Tabler Icons. Please refer to the theme guide linked below for more information.

Like and reblog buttons, a search bar, an updates tab, and a custom "Not Found" page.

A drop-down menu with 3 custom links.

Supports NPF posts and page links.

Options:

Instead of giving you a selection of post sizes to choose from, you can enter your desired post size (i.e. 500px or 40vw). The same applies to the sidebar.

A custom title and/or description. To activate the custom title and description options, just type anything in the text boxes "Custom Title" and "Custom Description."

You have the option to choose whether your accent colors will be a gradient or one color.

There is a selection of border styles and header styles to choose from.

Different sidebar images are optional. However, the first sidebar image that uses your header image as the default will always be visible on your blog. There is no option to hide it like the other sidebar image.

Show or hide tags on the index page.

Notes:

The search bar will be hidden automatically if you have the option to hide your blog from search results enabled.

The following and recently liked sections will only work if you're using the theme on a primary blog. It will not work with side blogs. Please also make sure you have enabled the options to share your following and liked posts in your blog settings.

For an in-depth explanation and tutorial on how to customize the theme to your liking, please refer to the theme guide! Everything you need to know will be addressed there.

Credit:

NPF Audio Player by @glenthemes

Tabler Icons by Paweł Kuna

See full list of credits here.

Please make sure to read the theme guide before sending in any questions about customization, thank you!

[discordantwritings]

Our Precious Assistant Pt. 3 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn!afab reader, sub!reader, sub!Buggy, dom!Mihawk, dom!Crocodile, exhibitionism, vouyerism, cockwarming, PiV sex, oral sex, mastrubation, inappropriate use of Buggy’s devil fruit powers, creampie

WC: 4.3k

Summary: You get some much needed TLC and start your new work routine. Which, of course, involves some fooling around at work.

Note: I mean it was only a matter of time before Buggy’s dick being detachable was going to come up. I hope you guys like the dynamics in this one with not everyone participating at once but everyone still getting some love.

You realize you’re sore before you realize you’re awake. Slowly remembering the events of last night and earlier it all makes sense. Buggy’s arms are wrapped tight around your midsection and you have just enough room to twist around in his grasp.

His face paint had gotten washed off at some point and you can’t help but admire his features without the layer of makeup. Tracing your fingers over his jaw you feel the stubble there, coarse but the sensation isn’t bad.

Your touch stirs Buggy awake and without opening his eyes he pull you in tighter.

“Just five more minutes…” He mumbles, his face buried in your chest.

“Buggy it’s late we should get up.” You press a kiss to the top of his head and push him, but he’s stronger than you.

“Mmmm but I like where I am.” He nuzzles in and you feel that stubble rub against you.

“But I need to take a shower or something.” At this Buggy perks up, withdrawing his face from your boobs. “Croc has the best bathtub.”

So that’s how you ended up soaking with Buggy in the largest bathtub you’ve ever seen. It comfortably fits both of you and you’re pretty sure one or two more people could squeeze in here. Despite how much space you could have you’re right next to Buggy, leaning into his shoulder while you let the warm water soothe your body. Buggy has put heaps of bath salts and other soaps into the bath and the fragrances nearly put you back to sleep.

“Next time we should wait until we aren’t already bruised to get in trouble.” You muse.

“Sorry to break the news but you’re never not going to be bruised. Both of them love marking their territory.” Buggy leans and grabs some shampoo from the side of the bath. You take the bottle from him and he shoots you a confused look.

“Let me wash your hair.” You offer.

His eyes light up and you can’t help but giggle as he eagerly repositions himself in front of you. You take your time with his long blue hair and revel in the intimacy of the moment. When you’re done he returns the favor and you feel the remaining tension leave your body as he scrubs shampoo into your scalp. The both of your are just as languid finishing bathing and you don’t hop out until the bath has gone cold.

It takes a bit to get dressed again since your clothes had been thrown to every corner of the room but you manage to get dressed- well, most of the way.

“Buggy? Have you seen my underwear?” You call out, your check under the bed unsuccessful.

“Me? No. I mean I don’t think you came in wearing any.” His words have you immediately whipping around to look at him.

The edge of your underwear hangs out of his pocket while he wears a shit eating grin. You sigh and slip on your pants knowing you won’t win this battle.

“Let’s go get some dinner.” It’s been way too long since you last ate and after all your body has been through you need to recharge.

“Let’s get Croc and Mihawk one of them always pays for the good stuff.” Buggy takes your arm in his as you walk out of the bedroom and to the offices.

You find Mihawk and Crocodile in their respective offices and it’s doesn’t take much convincing to drag them out to dinner. True to Buggy’s predictions you get a secluded VIP table at a restaurant where prices aren’t even listed on the menu.

You sat next to Crocodile while Buggy and Mihawk sat across from you. They caught you up on what you missed for the day and you were surprised at how mundane it all was. This is just the way your life is now, catching up on the day with three of the most dangerous pirates in the world over dinner.

Crocodile’s large hand was on your thigh all dinner. Surprisingly it never drifted too far in he just left it resting on the top of your thigh, only occasionally squeezing. The touch kept you grounded as you chatted easily through dinner with your new partners. When going back home was brought up at the end of the night you hesitated.

“I think I’m going back to my place tonight.” When Buggy looked particularly dejected you elaborated a bit. “I can’t come into work tomorrow wearing the clothes I wore yesterday.”

“Of course you can. Anyone who even looks at you wrong will get a limb cut off.” Buggy says simply, but thankfully Mihawk is the voice of reason.

“No it makes sense, I’m sure you need some time to yourself after all of this.” Mihawk’s words calm you down, making you more confident in your choice.

“But I think I will make sure to pack an overnight back to have at the office. Just in case.” That comment gets Buggy’s mood up again, and his smile is infectious.

Dinner ends on a high note and by the time you leave the sky is dark and the wind chills you a bit, you weren’t dressed for todays weather. You’re about to excuse yourself to power walk home when a heavy coat drapes over your shoulders.

The thick smell of cigar smoke and fur tickling your neck means you don’t even have to turn to see that it’s Crocodile’s coat on your back. You pull it tighter around you, practically swimming in the dark fabric.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You say awkwardly, unsure how goodbyes work in your new situation.

All three of them look at you a bit confused and you can’t help but be confused back.

“We are escorting you home.” Mihawk says like it’s an obvious fact and he takes your arm as he walks by you and in the direction of your apartment.

“Yeah, duh. Can’t have our star walking alone on the streets at night.” Buggy is on your other side, unattached hands gesturing.

You don’t have to look behind you to know Crocodile is bringing up the rear, his imposing presence tingling on your back.

Buggy fills most of the walk home with crazy stories that you’re not sure are true but you enjoy none the less. You’re at your door before you know it and Buggy pulls you off of Mihawk and into a big hug.

“I’m so happy you’re with me.” There’s a beat before he corrects himself. “Us.”

You hug him back and as you pull away you press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy too.”

Someone must be glaring at him because Buggy shrinks away to let the other two come closer. Mihawk lightly presses against your arm and you turn to face him.

“Goodnight darling.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and places a quick kiss to your lips before waiting further away with Buggy.

You shrug off Crocodile’s jacket and offer it to him. He pauses a second before taking it and draping it over his arm.

“Thank you. For everything.” You say, smiling up at him.

“We are just getting started.” He places a kiss to your forehead. “We will see you tomorrow.”

You can feel the blush on your cheeks from all of the sweet gestures as you wave at the three of them before slinking back into your apartment. A wide smile never left your face as you went to bed, excited for what life has in store for you.

Life changed but life stayed the same. Work still had to be done and they were still your bosses but of course none of them let that stop their affections. Hands on your back and shoulders as they passed by your desk, quick kisses when they got in for the day. You have to admit you’ve never been more motivated to do your work when the reward is getting a kiss.

But of course not all of their actions were so chaste. You would’ve thought Buggy would be the worst offender of dragging you off to fool around at work but it was far and away Crocodile. Being called into his office to help with paperwork always ended up with you in a compromising position- but you weren’t complaining.

“Sir- Mihawk is expecting a report-“

“Hawkeyes can wait.” You felt the low rumble of his voice throughout your body as you sat in his lap at his desk. Your chest pressed to his as you rested your head on his shoulder. Seeing you from above the desk this might have been a cute scene, you sitting with him as he worked on his paperwork. But below the desk your boss’ pants were open just enough so he could be inside you while he worked.

You had been sitting like this for an hour now, maybe more, warming his cock while you struggled not to move. Your thighs ached from being in this position and slick dripped down onto Crocodile’s lap. You’d be concerned about ruining his incredibly expensive pants if you could form coherent thoughts. The fullness you’ve been experiencing, the ache, being on edge for so long, it caused your head to empty into just a buzz. You had only remembered Mihawk when you glanced down at your watch and realized just how long you had been in this position.

Your arms were latched around your boss’ neck and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. You focused on your breathing and keeping your body relaxed- a feat that had gotten much easier as time went on with the tension in your body unable to hold itself for so long. In the back of your mind you wonder if that’s what Crocodile likes about this- having you completely docile and submissive- wearing you down to just your base instincts. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit you like this too. Not having to think or move and just existing in the moment is a kind of peace you didn’t think you would find sitting on Crocodile’s dick.

A knock on the door sends a small wave of panic through your body as you sit up at the noise- a mistake. The movement sends a fresh wave of pleasure over your over sensitive body and you bite your tongue to stifle a moan. Crocodile doesn’t make any moves but you can tell it effected him by the way his cock throbs inside you.

“Who is it?” Crocodile’s tone is short and you can tell he’s on the verge of anger.

“It’s me wondering what you’ve done with our assistant.” Mihawk’s monotone voice carries through the large wooden door and you can feel Crocodile relax under you.

“Come in and see.”

You know turning and looking to see Mihawk would garner disapproval from Crocodile so you stay still, hyper focusing on the noise to piece together what is happening behind you back. The door creaks open and you hear Mihawk’s boots click a few times on the floor before there’s a long pause.

“Shut the door.” Crocodile seems unbothered now, continuing to file through reports.

The door closes and you hear Mihawk slowly walking closer. Your heartbeat quickens as you feel his eyes on you, burning into your back. Tilting your head you look out and eagerly wait for Mihawk to come into your range of vision.

“I have to say that’s not a bad position for them.” Mihawk finally speaks, probably at the side of the desk just out of your sight.

“On that we agree. I think this is where they should be all the time, keeping me warm is a very important job.” Crocodile’s words send shivers down your spine and you can’t help the whiny moan that bubbles in your throat.

“Oh and they like it so much.” Mihawk’s voice has a teasing tilt to it as he finally slides into your vision. He’s leaning forward so his face is level with yours and his piercing eyes travel over your face, pupils dilated with hunger.

“How long have you been like this?” He asks softly.

“I don’t know… hour? More?” Your voice is breathy, needy.

“You like being senseless on his cock?” Mihawk presses his face close, forehead touching yours.

“Fuck- yes.” Your eyes are screwed shut and you feel Mihawk’s breath on your face.

You feel Crocodile’s chuckle. “Keep talking to them, I can feel how much they like it.”

Mihawk finally closes the gap and your kiss is all needy tongue and teeth as an hour of patience is broken. You push up to try and deepen the kiss but you’re promptly pulled back down by Crocodile’s hand at your waist.

“Don’t think you’re done here.” His voice is stern but you can hear arousal creeping into the edges of his tone.

Mihawk breaks away and you whine as you watch him walk away. You’re confused only for a second until you hear the drag of one of the other chairs in the room coming to sit next to Crocodile’s large office chair. Mihawk sits down next to the two of you and with his legs spread wide you can see his erection straining against his black pants.

“How long you going to keep them like this?” The swordsman asks.

“What, you want a turn?” Crocodile responds, putting down his pen and piling up some of the papers.

“No. Just wanted to know if the show was going to get exciting anytime soon.” His disinterested words didn’t hold any weight when he was unbuckling his pants.

“Seems our assistant isn’t the only needy one here. What do you say sweetheart? You ready to put on a show for Mihawk?” Crocodile lightly pushes you so you’re sitting up, face to face with him.

“Yes sir.” You say unabashedly needy.

“That’s my angel.” He mutters to you before finally kissing you. Just like with Mihawk it’s heated but he’s much more controlled- the teeth are precise as he bites your lower lip while his hand grips your hip.

You grind down on him, relishing in finally being able to move. You’re rewarded with a deep groan from Crocodile and you know both of you won’t last much longer. Crocodile’s hand slides from your waist to under your ass as he stands up, sitting you on the desk in one swift movement. Grateful you won’t have to try and use your already aching thighs you allow your head to loll to the side to get a view of Mihawk.

He’s sat back in the chair, legs spread wide as his hand slowly fists his dick. His gaze is lidded as he watches the two of you. Crocodile seems more than happy to maneuver one of your legs up so your foot is on the desk, spreading yourself wide so Mihawk can have a better view of Crocodile’s large cock splitting you open. Crocodile bites down on your shoulder as he thrusts into you and you moan loud as you feel Mihawk’s gaze burn into you.

“You like me watching you?” Mihawk asks, his breath short.

You go to respond but Crocodile thrusts up into you hard and all you can do is moan as your hands fly back to get a grip on the desk to stabilize yourself. It’s not hard to assume Crocodile loves the audience too, deep thrusts at a slightly awkward angle just to show off.

“Hawkeyes-“

“Yes.” Mihawk doesn’t need Crocodile to finish his sentence before he’s quickly by your side. You don’t know how they communicate so much with so little but Mihawk’s deft fingers circling your clit have you abandoning that train of thought.

Mihawk leans in and starts whispering praises in your ear about how good you’re taking Crocodile and how nice you looked sitting on his cock.

Mihawk’s words- His fingers- Crocodile’s thrusts- it was too much and finally after so long of being on the precipice you crashed over into your orgasm. Crocodile wasn’t far behind, burying himself until his hips were flush with yours and filling you up with a groan.

Mihawk’s ministrations on your clit slowed and helped you come down until Crocodile finally pulled out of you. If you weren’t so fucked out you might have been worried about getting Crocodile’s desk dirty but all you could do was collapse back onto it and catch your breath.

The sound of Mihawk zipping his pants up in the quiet space makes you push yourself up a bit to see what was happening. Mihawk hadn’t finished and you flashed him a confused look as you try (and then fail) to sit up.

“Don’t worry about me. You’ve been good.” He leans over and kisses your forehead. “I’m going to go bother Buggy.”

“Mmm.” You nodded and with a sigh relaxed back into the desk. Of course you would have been more than happy to help Mihawk but you have to admit you’re exhausted. Plus you can imagine how excited Buggy will be when Mihawk comes to his door already hard. You smile at him as he walks away and notice a small nod shared between him and Crocodile.

When the door shuts you finally manage to push yourself up to look at Crocodile in his chair. “How do you two do that?”

“Do what?” He’s already put himself back together, a cigar about to be lit in his fingers.

“Talk without talking. I’ve seen you and Mihawk do it a bunch.” You reach over and grab his lighter from his desk and spark it.

“Thanks doll.” He leans forward and lights his cigar. After taking a long drag he answers you question. “We just work on the same wave. Probably because of our time was warlords- same path of thinking, same muscle memory. Turns out fighting and fucking together have a lot of overlap.”

You giggle as you push off the desk and slide sideways into his lap, your legs over his thighs. Leaning into his chest you curl up into his warmth. “It’s great you two have that.”

Crocodile only hums and you let yourself relax as the two of you drift into pleasant silence.

Even if Crocodile is the worst offender that doesn’t mean Buggy isn’t an interruption to your work a lot. Most of it is quick, random kisses or gropes when no one is looking. But sometimes he will get you into his office and whine enough that you relent to him.

“They’re so mean to me baby.” Buggy is lounging on a large velvet couch in his over decorated office.

“Yes. Didn’t you sign up for that?” You stand over him, hand on your hip.

“Yeah but-“ He pouts. “You’re so nice to me.”

“And?” You notice his hands detaching and floating around behind you.

“I could be nice to you.” The innuendo is punctuated by his hands on your ass, squeezing as they push you even closer to him.

“And you know what will happen if we get up to anything without Crocodile or Mihawk.” While you admit it was fun, you weren’t exactly in the mood to be edged for hours.

Buggy dramatically flips back into the couch as you notice a hand leave and fly over to a transponder snail. The snail is picked up and placed on an end table so Buggy could talk to someone.

“Hawky baby~” He calls into the transponder only to be immediately greeted with the sound of Mihawk hanging up. Buggy gasps, offended before redialing.

“Ourassistantisherewithmeandwewantohabefunsocouldyoucomeoverand-“ Buggy rushes all his words out before he’s hung up on again. The mouthpiece gets dropped to the ground as Buggy pouts.

“I’m sure if we just wait until tonight-“ Now it’s your turn to be cut off as you hear the quick opening and closing of Buggy’s door. You turn and see Mihawk standing there, arms crossed.

“Hawky!” Buggy shoots up as his hands reattach themselves. “I knew you would be so loving and reasonable.”

“Which is why you called twice?” Mihawk deadpans.

“Yes?”

You and Mihawk look at each other and you shrug. “He said he wanted to be nice to me.”

“You are nice to him, so it seems only fair.” Mihawk finally walks over and picks one of the obscenely plush chairs to sit in. “Make sure our lovely assistant is appreciated for all their hard work.”

Hands suddenly grab at your waist and pull you down onto the couch with Buggy. In a flash he’s on top of you, pushing you down to lay flat on the bed while he eagerly kisses down your neck. His hands are already working at the waistband of the pants and pulling down.

“You could go a little slower.” Mihawk comments from his chair and you look over to see him palm himself through his pants.

“But that’s no fun.” Buggy smiles up at you as his hands travel back up and push you shirt up, giving him better access to paw and your breasts. You moan as his hands work your flesh and you can feel yourself getting wet from the attention.

Buggy continues not to listen to Mihawk’s advice as he slides down until he’s kissing your hips and down the tops of your thighs. You shudder in anticipation as his hands hold your thighs open and kid mouth travels to your inner thighs, taking its time there as he sucks the sensitive skin.

“Buggy-“ You whine as your hand lands on his head, threading your fingers into his soft blue hair.

“Now who’s in a rush?” Buggy teases, hovering just above where you need him to be.

“Thought you were going to be nice to me.” You pout and you know Buggy can’t resist.

“Anything for my star.” He presses on last kiss to the inside of your thigh before he dives in.

Buggy isn’t as through and calculated as Mihawk or Crocodile but fuck if he isn’t enthusiastic. He’s loud and sloppy but as his tongue dives between your folds his nose rubs against your clit any comparisons fly out of your head. You push his head down further as you buck your hips to grind on his face and Buggy takes that lead well, never slowing down. You’re keenly aware of Mihawk’s gaze and you let your head fall to the side to make eye contact with him.

His dick is out now and his thumb is rubbing over the bright red head. He must like this a lot you think- sitting back and watching the ones more eager to show off. You like it too.

You turn your moans and whines up to eleven, doing your best not to break eye contact with him even when Buggy’s tongue reaches deep inside you. When he does that your grip tightens on his hair and he moans into your pussy. Mihawk’s gaze leaves your eyes for a second to dart down before connecting with yours again.

“Buggy.” Mihawk is short and commanding and to Buggy’s credit he immediately stops and rests his head on your thigh. “Show them your trick.”

“I have a lot of tricks you’re going to have to be more- ohhhhhhh.” Buggy gets a devilish grin on his face as realization clicks.

You’re confused and prop yourself up a bit when Buggy’s hands leave your body to work at his pants and he pulls them down just enough for you to see how worked up he’s gotten from eating you out. What surprises you is when he tugs at his dick it pops off of his body. It makes sense, given his powers there’s no reason it shouldn’t but it’s still a sight. Once the initial shock wears off there’s a fresh wave of arousal as Buggy guides his cock to your entrance, teasing around your folds and gathering the slick there.

“Now go slowly.” Mihawk commands.

You whine as Buggy’s tip pushes into your entrance, stretching you out. True to his orders Buggy goes painfully slow, giving every inch it’s time to drag against your walls. When he’s about halfway in he adjusts and you gasp when suddenly his mouth is around your clit, sucking. You grip his hair hard as he moans into that bundle of nerves and create a pleasure filled feedback loop. Buggy continues to ease himself into you and lap at your clit and all you can do is grip onto him and stare into Mihawk’s golden eyes.

You see him working himself, pacing his hand with Buggy’s slow rhythm in and out of you. Seeing him watching, knowing Buggy and you are under his control even as he’s passively sitting there is thrilling. Knowing he gets off on it too feels just as good.

The overload of this new combination of sensations has you a moaning mess, babbling as you grip onto the couch and Buggy’s hair for dear life. Buggy is close too from you tugging at his hair and your cunt pulsing around him he is using all his focus to keep tonguing at your clit.

“Buggy- ‘m close just-“ You manage to choke out and he gets the message. He pumps himself inside you faster and as he’s slamming into you lightly nips at your clit.

You cum with a loud moan and you feel Buggy close behind you, filling you as your walls seize from your orgasm. You are able to catch Mihawk finishing into his hand, cum spilling over his abs.

Buggy collapses onto you, head nuzzled into your thigh as he catches his breath. You run your fingers through his hair as you gain your senses back.

“Don’t forget we are going out for dinner tonight.” Mihawk says as he finishes cleaning himself up, bringing over some wipes for you and Buggy. “So do be cleaned up.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and then presses one on Buggy’s cheek.

You never thought this is where your life would end up but as contentment and love fills up your chest you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[asliceofzosan]

in which Zoro takes the blame for not paying for the food at the Baratie (sequel to Sanji witnessing the riceball incident in Shells Town)

Ribeye steaks piled one on top of the other, a massive helping of mashed potatoes with boatloads of gravy, salads, soups, and fancy dishes with names Zoro can't pronounce — all made up the massively long order list that he knows Luffy has not a single Berry to his name to pay with.

Zoro looks around the place, tuning out the story of the giant goldfish that Usopp has told them before, his eyes resting on the blonde waiter flitting about and flirting with every woman at every table.

Sanji was his name. Zoro didn't recognize it. But when he arrived to their table and saw Zoro, it looked like their resident waiter recognized him. Zoro's reputation in the East Blue is not a laughing matter, so it didn't bother him at first. But the way Sanji stared at him, wide blue eyes and with a touch of a smile on his lips, told Zoro that there's something a lot more than recognition swimming in that man's head.

He can't put a finger on what it is exactly though. It's driving him crazy.

"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

Sanji turns to him and nearly steps back in shock. Zoro quirks an eyebrow, confused and a little annoyed. He wore his best clothes today (Captain's orders). And he's pretty sure he even took his mandatory once-a-week bath before they went inside (Nami's orders). Still the waiter looked at him like Zoro had grown a second head. Like he couldn't quite believe his eyes.

"Maybe there really is something wrong with your eye," Zoro muses, crossing his arms as Sanji quickly straightens his posture and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Got a problem with me, waiter?"

Sanji coughs out a laugh. Zoro notes with narrowed eyes that there is the slightest tint of pink coloring his cheeks. Is he blushing? The fuck?

"None at all, sir. I think I was just seeing things." The look in the waiter's eyes betrays his statement but Zoro chooses to say nothing. With a practiced smile, he turns back to Nami and asks her how she'd like her water that makes Zoro stare at him this time like he's grown a second head.

"And um..." Zoro is surprised Sanji hasn't left yet and is once again directly addressing him. "We have a few specialty riceballs not on the menu today. I'll bring them out... on the house."

Without even explaining what the fuck that meant, Sanji turns on his heels and beelines straight for the kitchen.

"I think Nami's boyfriend might be yours too, Zoro." Usopp teases him with a snicker and the glare he gives him is sharper than the blades of his swords.

Now, here Zoro is, letting Ussop's words affect him more than they have any right to as he downs his third bottle of beer.

The specialty rice balls haven't come out yet. Zoro's starting to think it's just a sick joke. But he doesn't let it get to him. Or tries to. Why offer free food when you can't deliver on it? Fucking ridiculous. And no, it's not like he suddenly craved rice balls when the blasted waiter mentioned them. That's not it at all. Bullshit.

"Didn't the waiter said he's coming by with rice balls?" Zoro finally snaps and the conversation his crew was having died down immediately at his statement. Ah fuck. He probably should have just kept his mouth shut because Nami was now looking at him with a shit-eating grin not entirely unlike the one he gave her when he teased her before the meal.

"How would you like them, oh great swordsman?" She teases with a glint in her eye. She cups her cheeks with her hands in delight at the irritated snarl Zoro gives her.

"With or without seaweed?" Ussop chimes in.

"Cubed or crushed?"

"Fuck off," Zoro hisses between his teeth. Nami and Ussop share a look before bursting into laughter. Zoro looks over at Luffy who was swinging his feet and obliviously sipping his milk. When Luffy makes eye contact with him, he just tilts his head with wide blank eyes and it makes Zoro question all his life choices.

"You wanna ask him?" Luffy says, already clamoring over the booth and waving at the object of Zoro's unexplained irritation. Zoro sinks into the seat as Sanji approaches with the bill for their meal.

"Your bill, sir."

"Zoro's asking if you're gonna bring the rice balls you promised." Zoro just stared up at the ceiling and thought of a million different ways to cut a hole into the floor so that the ocean could take him.

There is a headache inducing silence that follows Luffy's question. Zoro can't help but finally look at the waiter and he doesn't know how to explain the feeling that bubbles up when they make direct eye contact. Maybe it's indigestion. It's probably indigestion.

Instead of bringing up the damn rice balls, Zoro just grabs the tray with the bill from Luffy's hand. Just as expected, his annoyingly endearing captain put down an I.O.U for the ridiculously long list of food they ordered. Several possible scenarios could happen from this. And Zoro doesn't want to think about Luffy wreaking havoc in someone else's kitchen.

With a deep sigh through his nose and a knowing look at Nami, Zoro wrote down his own name in place of Luffy's.

"Zoro, what—" Luffy almost took the bill back when Zoro stood up and handed it directly to the waiter, who looked just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

"If your head chef's got a problem with that, he can talk to me directly. Tell him that for me, won't you?" Sanji takes the bill, reads what's written, and there's a phantom lurch in his chest that happens when Sanji looks up at him and smiles. Zoro doesn't want to describe it. He'll allow himself to firmly believe that it's a side effect of eating too much food. It's indigestion. You're just constipated. Never mind that the feeling is most prominent in his chest and not his stomach.

"Of course, sir." Sanji purrs and the sound runs like a cold river down Zoro's spine. There's a hint of mischief in the gleam of his visible eye. Every instinct in Zoro tells him it's dangerous. He should take his crew out of here, onto the Merry, and run.

But he stays rooted to the spot, wrist limp on the hilt of his sword, as he watches that damn waiter walk away from him.

"WHO THE HELL IS RORONOA ZORO?!"

The steady routine of washing the dishes helps quiet Zoro's racing mind.

It's a very welcome distraction. The clinking of the ceramic against metal utensils provides a cacophonous symphony that helps drown out all of Zoro's waking thoughts. The sooner he starts to think, the sooner he starts to notice how that stupid fucking waiter has just been sitting at the table behind him, cursing Zoro with his mere presence.

Scrub scrub scrub...

"You sure you don't want any help?"

Scrub scrub rinse...

"No."

Scrub rinse dry...

"I really have nothing better to do."

Zoro's eye twitches.

"Good for you."

A long silence follows this and Zoro thinks the waiter finally gave up. That was until...

"Are you still mad about the rice balls?"

"Oh my god!" Zoro nearly slams a pile of dishes onto the floor. He turns to Sanji, who is just casually smoking at the table, and stomps over to him. Once he was right in front of him, Zoro snarls at him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Talk about those damn rice balls one more time, I'm gonna chop your head clean off for them to use in tomorrow's ramen stock."

Sanji blinks, then turns his head to the side to blow smoke away from Zoro. Zoro tries to convince himself that he isn't staring at the way Sanji's lips purse around the cigarette in the process.

"I can still make you the rice balls," Sanji says without a single ounce of fear in his body. "I just couldn't do it while the old man was around." He then stands up and steps around Zoro with a practiced grace. "Are you willing to wait ten minutes?"

"I'm not hungry," Zoro hisses but his stomach betrays him with a loud grumble. He's been washing dishes for so many hours. He probably missed dinner.

Then, as Zoro straightens his posture, Sanji does it again — he smiles and Zoro doesn't know what to do.

"Sit." Sanji gently nudges a chair out with his foot. It lands perfectly in front of Zoro at a perpendicular angle. "I'll have them out in five."

"You said ten minutes." Zoro found himself saying, only to be contradictory. Sanji laughs this time and the resulting smile pierces Zoro's heart with a million cursed swords.

"When someone's hungry, I feed them." Sanji says simply and that's the statement that ends their conversation. Zoro still refuses to sit on the chair, instead finding himself gravitating towards the counter that Sanji was preparing his ingredients at and leaning against the marble.

Before Sanji found them at their table, he brought down a marine and a fearsome pirate with just his feet. Zoro was fascinated by his fighting style even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. But he's always been curious. Especially now, with Sanji whipping out the sharpest knives and using them effortlessly as Zoro would wield the Wado Ichimonji.

"You're good with knives," Zoro says before he could stop himself. Sanji chuckles.

"Of course, I am. I'm a chef. Best one in the East Blue."

"What's a chef doing waiting tables, then?"

"Cause I was kicked off the line this morning. It's a weekly occurrence, nothing special." The way Sanji scrapes his ingredients into a bowl betrayed how he felt about it despite his nonchalance. "I can cook better dishes than everyone in this damn kitchen but Zeff refuses to acknowledge that. It's always 'your food is crap', 'slice those carrots thinner', or 'needs more fucking oregano—"

Sanji throws the knife onto the cutting board, its tip now embedded neatly straight down the middle. It stood perfectly still, like it was afraid of what Sanji could do if he added more pressure. Zoro raised an eyebrow, looking up at the now irritated cook with a smirk.

"Sorry," Sanji mumbles, taking the knife and cleaning it carefully with a cloth. Zoro says nothing. He just props his elbow on the counter and places his chin into his hand as he watches Sanji in his element. Eventually, it's down to just shaping the rice balls with his hands and Zoro asks the question that poked at his mind during Sanji's mini outburst.

"If you're so dissatisfied cooking here why don't you just leave?"

Sanji pauses. His head is down, his blonde fringe obscuring one eye as his fingers twitch against the rice ball.

"It's not about that."

"Yeah?" Zoro leans as close as he could get with the counter between them. Sanji still refuses to look up. "A hot-headed cook who claims to be the best in the East Blue settling down here — where he is not head chef — is as contradictory as it gets."

"You don't know–" Sanji snaps but stops himself immediately. He looks up to glare at Zoro through narrowed eyes. "You don't know why I still stay."

"Enlighten me then, cook." Zoro leans his hip against the counter. "Because really, someone as good as you claim to be has got to have some ambitions. Dreams." Zoro holds the man's gaze. "Do you hate the old man?"

"No!" Sanji counters immediately. "The man fucking raised me. I owe him my goddamn life!"

"Owing him your life isn't the same as giving up your life to work at a restaurant that barely lets you cook."

"You don't know shit!" Sanji nearly slams his fist down on the counter, pointing a finger at Zoro with his face beet red. "This restaurant was his dream—"

"But is it your dream?"

Silence. Total utter silence.

Where color is nothing but a dark void of black and grey, a sea of blue greets him from the pages. Vivid pink skies and tangerine mangroves burst to life. All types of fish swim in his mind's eye but if he reaches out to touch them, it certainly should be real. A phantom breeze kisses his cheeks and water laps at his feet. He's drowning but he swims in delight. He's falling but he feels the clouds cushion him with warmth.

There is a vast ocean out there, one that contains delicacies and species from all four seas. Creatures of every kind, spices that have never been tasted.

The All Blue.

In Sanji's world of black and white — he strives to find the one place that's in screaming color.

There are tears in Sanji's eyes before Zoro could comprehend what was going on. But he wipes them away before he can get a good look at him. The kitchen was quiet around them. The only sound peeking through was the faint music from the bar outside. Though Zoro's heartbeat was louder in his ears than his own breathing.

But he could hear each footstep Sanji takes, the scrape of the plate as it's pushed in Zoro's direction, and the click click of Sanji's lighter as he helps himself to another cigarette. Zoro looks down and sees the rice balls presented in front of him — three heaping helpings, all coated in a different topping, all different flavors.

Zoro takes one.

And it's the best rice ball he's ever had in his life.

"I have a dream," Sanji murmurs, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. One glance and Zoro could see that whatever his dream is... it still burns like molten lava in the heart of this chef. "I'd just rather give up on it than die searching for mine."

Zoro swallows, turns around, and takes the cigarette from Sanji. The ashes fall into his palm, its embers dimming as he squishes it between his fingers.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Zoro says, looking up to make eye contact with Sanji. He can see it almost immediately — the longing for something that seems near impossible to achieve, the acceptance that it's hopeless — but Zoro sees it, clear as day, that the flickering flame of hope still shines in Sanji's eyes. That he's just waiting for his sign to let it once again consume his soul in a roaring fire, brighter than even the sun could be.

Zoro wants to see him shine.

"Come meet my captain," Zoro instinctively wraps his hand around Sanji's wrist. Surprisingly, Sanji doesn't pull back. "I think he'd really like to get to know you."

Sanji doesn't protest.

Zoro takes the rice balls to go.

Never waste food.

[astermath]

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

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[codesbyana]

page 001: juliette — preview + code + spreadsheet

a minimalist responsive character page with no images, but with enough imagination, it can be used as a media or network page. instructions are in the code.

a huge thank you to @nonspace for helping me with the google sheets integration and taking a good look at the javascript part of the code!

features

google sheets integration

css variables

navigation links, toggeable filters menu and hide/show controls

endless muses boxes with a title and an optional subtitle, description, a section for any extra information and a section for love interests and links in each box

responsive

customizable colors (backgrounds, text, gradient, links and accent), font-size, body font and title font, boxes width, optional glow

terms

reblog this post if you like it or use it. reblogs are more than appreciated!

do not edit, move or delete the credit

do not use as a base code and take credit for it

full terms of use

credits and notes under cut:

credits

google sheets integration by @nonspace

masonry layout by desandro (+ tutorial by @suiomi)

isotope combination filtering by metafizzy (+ tutorial by @magnusthemes)

dropdown menu by @acuite

hide/show controls by @seyche

phosphoricons by helena zhang and tobias fried

full list of credits

notes

html/css knowledge are necessary to edit and adapt the code to your needs

instructions on how to integrate google sheets are both in the code and in the spreadsheet, as well as on this page

if you prefer to add boxes manually, you can find the template in the code

to change any of the icons in the code, visit phosphoricons, find the icon you want to use and change the style and icon like in the example:

[vntagetee-archive]

asks: 14 drafts: 84

[ilictaffairs-archive]

tag dump 1/1

[fluentmoviequoter]

Best (Fake) Boyfriend

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention at a fancy restaurant, a handsome SWAT sergeant pretends to be your boyfriend to help you.

Warnings: pushy man is pushy and mean. Deacon is perfect and pretty. reader isn't rich (not necessarily poor, just usually unable to afford the vacation she's on). lots of fluff!! there's also a Psych reference and if you find it, we should be friends

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“It’ll be fun!” your best friend insists.

“I don’t know,” you reply.

“It’s just a weekend. This is the hottest resort in LA and we’re never going to be able to afford it again. Besides, it’s an Uber ride away, if you hate it after the first night, just go home. We wouldn’t hold that against you, swear.”

Closing your eyes, you nod. The small group of friends surrounding you cheers. After they force you to pack a bag, you find yourself in the back of an Uber driving through Beverly Hills.

“How did you get a room here again?” you ask.

“I got an insane discount voucher when I went to the grand opening of that new organic restaurant in Santa Monica!”

“And we’re just spending a weekend in the resort? Swimming, relaxing,” you trail off, unsure if you believe the lack of ulterior motives.

“Yeah,” your best friend answers, “plus rich men from the Hills.”

The Uber driver rolls his eyes, and you can’t blame him... not at all.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Save a whole school full of evacuees and you get a dinner reservation at a Beverly Hills resort,” Street muses. “I knew there was a reason I liked this gig.”

“You do know that place will be crawling with rich, single women,” Hicks begins.

“Yeah, we do,” Tan and Street cheer together.

“And badge bunnies,” Hicks finishes.

Street shrugs, and Deacon and Hondo shake their heads. 

“Do we have to attend?” Deacon asks.

“Why? Got better plans?” Street asks.

“A night in the hills isn’t everyone’s idea of a fun time, playboy,” Hondo answers. Deacon nods his agreement.

“Yes, you have to go. Mayor’s going to be there tonight, too. Every week like clockwork,” Hicks answers.

“Hey, Deac,” Street calls as they walk out. “What’s the real problem?”

“Just seems like a materialistic, money-based approximation of the worth of the lives we saved,” Deacon answers. “The mayor’s office just implied all those lives are worth approximately $650.”

“Those meals are over $125 each?” Luca gapes. “Sorry, I know that’s not the point.”

“It’s not the first or last time we’ll receive a monetary thank you, but at some point it becomes more about the reward after the job than the job itself,” Deacon adds.

“Maybe we’ll be there for a reason,” Luca offers. “But I get what you’re saying. We are focused on the job, and that’s all we can control.”

“Then I guess we should clean up. Places like that frown upon dirt covered tactical uniforms."

"Their loss; this is my best look,” Street jokes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Um, I can’t afford to look at this menu,” you say, pushing it back onto the table. “Maybe I should go find a diner or something.”

“It’s included,” your best friend whispers. “But we’re trying to play the part, so sit up and feel as good as you look in that outfit.”

Sighing, you straighten your shoulders, picking up the outrageously priced menu again and trying not to let your shock show. Indeed, you’ll never live like this again, but you’re not sure you’d want to even if you could.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Would it be wrong for me to say there’s one for each of us?” Street asks, glancing over his menu.

“Yes,” Deacon, Hondo, and Luca reply in unison.

“They’re women, not suits, Street,” Deacon adds.

“Think I could land one?” Street asks.

“Playboy,” Hondo sighs. “You don’t have enough game for half of one of those women, kid.”

“Really? ‘Cause the one in the blue’s lookin’ over here.”

“Probably at Deacon,” Luca says, keeping his eyes on the menu.

“Right,” Deacon agrees sarcastically. “I- honestly, I don't know what's in most of these foods, so one of you order for me.”

He sets his menu down, his gaze wandering to the table of women Street was talking about. One of them catches his attention, and when the four other women get up, giggling as they walk toward the bathroom, he decides he’s looking at a kindred soul.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Mind if I sit here for just a moment? My friends are running late, and the reservation is under another name,” a man explains, smiling as he looks at you.

“Uh, I don’t think-“

“Thanks,” he says, cutting you off as he sits beside you.

“My friends are coming right back,” you state. “So, you should find somewhere else to wait.”

“Sounds like you have time to kill, and I do, too. What’s your name?”

You don’t answer, fiddling with the bottom of the tablecloth as you watch the doorway for your friends to return.

“I can’t imagine someone ditching you.”

The man leans into your peripheral vision, and you turn your head away. When his hand brushes against your covered hip, you stand quickly.

“I told you that I didn’t want to talk, so you should find your way to your own table before I come back,” you say lowly before walking to the balcony entrance.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon tunes out his teammates as he watches a man sit beside you. Your obvious discomfort makes him eager to help. He stops at the thought that one uninvited man in your personal space is likely more than enough.

“Deac?” Hondo asks. “Oh,” he adds when he looks at what is so worthy of Deacon’s attention.

“Didn’t think he still had it in him,” Luca whispers to Hondo.

Deacon stands suddenly, his attention on your back as you walk onto the balcony. Hondo notices that the man beside you looks angry, and when he jostles the table in his haste to follow you, he knows why Deacon is so invested.

“Go help her out, Deac, we got your back,” Hondo says.

Deacon nods wordlessly, buttoning his blazer as he follows in your footsteps. His team looks on, sure that Deacon has control of the situation but is prepared to jump in if the situation calls for it.

“Deacon comes back with her glued to his side or that starry far-away look in his eye,” Luca announces. “Trust me.”

“My money’s on the first one. You see how she relaxed the moment her friends left? She’s just like him,” Tan points out.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Looks like you found your way to my table, too,” the man says behind you.

When you turn to face him, you step back. His jaw is tight, and his eyes look darker than they did inside.

“Change your mind about spending time with me, girlie?”

With your side to the door, you notice someone walk out, but don’t expect an arm to circle your waist a moment later.

“Hey, babe,” the man says. “What’s going on? Came back to the table and you were gone.”

Looking up at him, you sigh at the sight of his large, kind eyes. Trusting him, you relax against his side, raising a hand to press against his sternum.

“Sorry, handsome. This guy was waiting for his friends,” you explain.

“You need help finding your table or somethin’? This is a nice place, I’m sure they can help with that.”

The man clenches his fists at his side, looking between you and the man holding you to his side.

“Or do you need a different kind of help?”

The hand on your hip tightens, his touch still gentle as his voice drops. He’s defending you, angry for you, and though you don’t know why, you’re grateful.

“No, I’m good. Your ‘babe’ here might want to learn some manners, though.”

You press your hand against your guy’s chest when he tries to follow the man inside. Whispering your name to distract him, you sigh when his attention returns to you.

“I’m Deacon,” he replies. “Sorry for grabbing you.”

“Don’t apologize. Thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking walking out here alone.”

Your hand is still spread over his chest, his arm around your waist, and his hand rubbing soft circles on your hip. You know the moment has to end, but your desperation to draw it out outweighs your logic.

“Well, thank you, Deacon. You’re a great boyfriend; I’m sure there’s a very happy woman somewhere.”

Deacon’s hand moves to your waist as you move back, and he quickly raises the other to stop you. 

“There is no happy woman,” he responds. “I just- how often do you have to deal with stuff like that?”

“Not very often. Most guys get the idea, even if it takes a few tries. Never had to be saved like this before.”

Deacon sighs, disappointed either in you or the situation. You hope it’s the situation, and Deacon can practically read your mind.

“I’m a SWAT sergeant, and we have to watch for crossfire,” he begins.

You nod with furrowed brows, confused as to where this is going.

“I just will never understand how some men are so okay with not caring how many women they hurt in pursuing their own… whatever it is they’re looking for.”

“How? How is there no lucky woman?” you ask softly. “Between the kindness and the poetic speeches, you’re just begging to get snatched up.”

Deacon drops his chin, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Why’d you follow me?” you ask.

“You were uncomfortable. I noticed you before he sat down, and then when you stood up so fast I couldn’t just sit there. Especially when he followed you.”

“Then you can tell I don’t fit in here.”

“I can,” Deacon agrees before whispering, “because I don’t either.”

“Could you maybe ditch your friends?” you ask. “Let me call you handsome for a while longer?”

“You seem a bit too pleased to have a fake boyfriend who only came out here to scare somebody off.”

“Because my fake boyfriend is better than any real one I’ve ever had.”

Deacon smiles, pulling you against him. “I have to stay for dinner, it’s a work thing. But if you’re still up for pet names later, and tomorrow, and for a good, long while, I think we can work something out.”

“I will be.”

“Have your phone?”

You pull your phone from your pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. He keeps one hand on your side as he adds his contact, sending himself a text with your name. After he returns your phone, he sighs.

“The moment’s over?” you ask.

 “The moment is on hold,” Deacon corrects.

“Enjoy your work dinner. I’m going to go have a free dinner and listen to my friends pretend they belong here.”

“Feel free to sit at my table if you need a break. I’m sure they’re talking about you already. Trying to decide if I’ll actually act on my feelings or just come back in alone and puppy-like.”

You smile, slowly separating yourself from Deacon. Walking in first, he holds the door for you, and you brush your knuckles against his hand before returning to your table. As you sit, your eyes stray to Deacon and never leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

“That little hand thing counts, right?” Tan asks.

“Counts for what?” Deacon inquires as he sits.

“I thought you’d come back with your arm around her.”

“We’re, uh, we’re gonna keep talking later.”

“Atta boy, Deac!” Luca cheers.

“Why didn’t you invite her over?” Hondo asks. “This may be a work thing, but that doesn’t mean it has to be boring.”

“I did. If she gets tired of her friends, she’ll be over.”

“Yeah,” you interject, pausing at the corner of their table. “I’m tired of my friends and your table seems like a better fit.”

Street, Luca, and Tan rush to pull a chair over for you, arguing over who gets the credit. You laugh at their antics as Deacon tells you everyone’s names.

“Nice to meet you. And thanks for letting me crash your dinner,” you say.

“So, what do you think of our Deacon here?” Luca asks, smiling kindly.

“I think he’s great,” you answer honestly. Turning toward him, you whisper, “And handsome.”

“Are pet names our thing now?” he asks.

“Hey, you started it, babe.”

Deacon dips his chin before his eyes rise to yours, and you think ‘beautiful’ might be a better fit for him. Luckily, he promised plenty of time to try all the pet names you can think of.

[krirebr]

Congrats again on your well deserved milestone, lovely! 🥳❤️

If it sparks the muse, I would LOVE a drabble of WAM!Steve and Cole. I was so intrigued by their first part and how you wrote their dynamic and how Steve was a low key motherhen. I’d love to see more of him teaching Cole how to vampire!! Thank you! 🙏🏻

Thank you, Siri!! I so appreciate your support. 💜💜

Oh, the muse sparked hard. I wrote this one in a blink. Their dynamic is so fun for me. I hope you enjoy!

This is a few years after Steve takes Cole in.

And Gentle Persuasion

Characters: Dark!Steve Rogers, Soft!Dark Cole Turner

Warnings: blood, death, mind control, talk of humans as food, vampire stuff

We're All Monsters

“Cole.”

Cole looked up from where he was kneeling over the dead body. Steve was leaning against the door to the small cell, looking exasperated. Cole grimaced. “I don’t know how this happened,” he said.

Steve sighed and crouched down in front of him. “Yes, you do,” he said. “Tell me what happened this time.”

Cole stroked a finger down the now-dead young man’s cheek. “I just– I told him I loved him and wanted us to be together, you know? I wanted him to be mine. And he freaked out and I was just trying to calm him down, and maybe feed on him just a little, to show him how good it could be, but I was upset too. That he was being so unreasonable. And I guess I lost control.” He gestured to the blood that covered him and the floor of the cell.

Steve closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. When he opened his eyes again, he fixed Cole with a stern look. “So,” he said, “the same thing as last time. Why didn’t you just compel him to agree to it?”

Cole looked down, embarrassed. “I wanted it to be real.”

“Honey, we’ve talked about this. You’re still trying to hang onto your humanity, but it’s gone. You aren’t human anymore, you’re something so much better. You need to start acting like it, finally embrace it. Humans, they’re just animals. They’re food. Pets at the very most. They are here to serve us. We want something from them, we take it. Any vampire who treats them as equals has lost touch with what we are. Do you understand?”

Cole nodded. He did. Or he was trying to. Steve had been over it with him so many times. Cutter, too. Everyone here, really. But. He’d just– he’d always wanted to find the one when he’d been human and he never had. He thought maybe now that he was something more, that power was thrumming through his veins and Steve had taught him how to harness it, that he’d finally be able to find someone. But he still hadn’t. Maybe Steve was right, maybe he was looking in the wrong place.

Steve placed a gentle hand on Cole’s cheek, pulling him from his thoughts. “You know I’m only this upset because you keep doing this to menu items. We won’t have anything left to serve at the bar at this rate.”

Cole leaned into Steve’s hand. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Steve said and stood up. “Come on, I’ll have someone come clean this up.”

Cole stood up too and started to leave the cell, not looking back at the body. “Cutter’s gonna be pissed.”

Steve smiled, “Cutter’s always pissed. You leave her to me.” Cole took a few steps into the hallway before Steve stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, if it’s just a feed and a fuck you need, you come to me and I’ll get it for you. You know I’ll always take care of you.”

Cole gave him a bashful grin back. “Yeah, I know,” he said and thought for the millionth time how lucky he was that Steve had been the one to find him.

Kris's 700 Celebration

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @femefetalelevelingup @moonlightttfae @lokislady82

[pvachypessa]

Yup, you are reading this right, this is a follow forever in FEBRUARY. But never is too late to show my love and appreciation for you all! I have been roleplaying Peach for almost 7 years now as I am writting this post. She has been always my favorite muse to write and she will always be!

Now, this is my eternal thanks for all the friends that I have made during the years, sure, some have gone and other new have come but I love you all to bits! But this thanks doesn't stay only in this blog as it goes to my other two blogs

@rayheroism and @gorgonacorali

Now as a thank you I want to gift you all a full editable theme everything placed in the menu so those with no knowledge of codding can enjoy to have a fancy theme too! You can get the code right here! and also a PSD that has the sizes for the theme with the box already placed! You can get it here!

♥♥♥♥♥.¸•★.¸•★.¸ Now To the list ¸.★•¸.★•¸.♥♥♥♥♥

@monmuses : Toastie, I adore you dearly! I love how have you grown in photoshop skills, your humor sense and your patience with everything, from a expert level student, to a college one... I FEEL YOUR PAIN. Now out of jokes, one of the besties!

@moralpuppet / @ursadolls / @gladesglo : Sav What can I say to you that you don't know already? all the convos in discord and even in instagram, all the memes, everything. All the plotting, your patience, your trapeze skills. Honey, you are a GODDESS. I admire you and love you, love our friendship of what 8 years now? I just left to know your ID and you mine XD

@nebula-drcams : Star, my dear star. Always trying your best and that is something I aplaud, you laugh at the face of anyone that makes you wrong and that is something I say 'I'm your number 1 fan!' and so yes I AM YOUR NUMBER 1 FAN. KEEP ROCKING HARD

@atvscream : Bats, Your soul is so kind and you are so lovely to talk to! you know I adore your kitty photos! Oh! Giuve him a kiss from my part!

@stcries : Cola, Oh Cola, the patience you have with me and Peach... You have the heaven won already, dear. I love your blog, your writting and everything you do? Like Hello. Teach me, please. Also Adore you MWUAH.

@mariotime : TOMA, DARLING. ME DEAR. MY PRECIOUS. LOVE YOU. Keep being o fabulous as you are! Keep being as great and lovely, never change and remember that for everything you have me on discord 24/7. ALWAYS

@geniusdonkey : Ah, Suri, the lovely Suri. The only other weird speciment that speaks spanish like me XD, Love you, love your graphics and all our threads!

@the-expatriate: NAT, NAT. I LOVEEEEE YOU. YOU ARE GREAT AND SO FUNNY! And So so so Patient With all of us babies that we have 2 brain cells and one is agonizing already!

@mixed-up-multiverse : Gracie, always so lovely, even at sending me memes in private at high hours in the morning! (In my time XD) And honestly? Love it! I laugh and I have dreams with those memes, So my dreams now have no sense and is so fun to try to remember everything that happened in the dream! Adore you

@kingbcwser / @captainseamech : LAPIS. I LOVE YOU. COME AT MY ARMS WITH ALL YOUR MUSES.

@pompedia : POM, I know we don't talk much, But I love you from afar always, so lovely, love you even from afar!

@goatfated / @snowhxart / @snowy-muses : Snowy. One of my oldest friends here alongside Sav. Always so nice with everybody and like always. I will break legs for you Always remember that I love you and that I know how to bury a body if you ever need it! Nah, I'm kidding! Unless....

♥♥♥♥♥.¸•★.¸•★.¸ Honorable mentions ¸.★•¸.★•¸.♥♥♥♥♥

@rubbarband , @spoocys-glade-of-dreams , @wendyfulmother , @cutdeepshiver / @teenagedkraken , @regularshcw / @nightwatchr /@lunaoritur , @whatevcr-us , @cryptofmuses , @pktearsoftazmily , @jonathanjohnnyjones , @timid-plumber , @teamfricndship , @drachliebe / @kiddscove , @olliesmultimuse / @aslyfcx , @peculiarbeauty / @foundtotoro , @stormcried

AND YOU

[littlemisspascal]

New Writers added to The Pedro Library 🐼

@morallyinept @all-the-way-down-here

New Works Added ✨

Many fics aren’t appearing in the tags when searching. If I miss yours, please let me know 💗 Or add me to your taglist cuz I love being tagged 😊

As always, if you would like me to remove your work from the rec list, please let know and I’ll remove them asap 😊

@beskarandblasters Din Apotheosis + You Done? + Oral Fixation

@dindjarindiaries Din In the Silence

@absurdthirst @storiesofthefandomlovers Dieter + Javi G Their Greatest Performance /Javier Stripped Down Love

@tightjeansjavi Joel The Menu

@ezrasbirdie Joel Crystal + Sticky

@undercoverpena Joel Be Good, Be Quiet

@atticrissfinch Joel No Soul to Sell

@foli-vora Joel The Sun Will Shine Again

@eupheme Joel It’s Enough, It’s Enough + Can’t Get You Out of My Mind

@toomanystoriessolittletime Joel Slow

@connectioneverywhere Frankie That Time Frankie Morales was your Cookie Bitch

@musings-of-a-rose Frankie Broken

@intheorangebedroom Frankie Tonight You Belong To Me

@frenchiereading Frankie You Hungry?

@pedropascalsx Frankie ‘You kiss me in a way that’s going to screw me up forever’ 

@something-tofightfor Whiskey Smutsgiving Pumpkin Pie and Whipped Cream / Tim Smutsgiving Apple Pie / Dieter Smutsgiving Stuffing / Oberyn Smutsgiving Red Wine / Frankie Smutsgiving Mashed Potatoes and Gravy / Marcus P Smutsgiving White Wine

@oliviajdjarin Javier Blowing Off Steam

@farawayfromwanting Javi G Simply Javier

@guess-my-next-obsession Ezra Starlight

@theredwritingwitch Tim Apollo is Dark 

[princessmisery666]

Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives

Summary: Being stood up isn’t always a bad thing. 

Warnings/Genre etc.: Fluff, lousy singing. 

W/C: 2k

Characters: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, Mentions/Small Parts: Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Harvard. 

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Notes: I saw this post on Instagram, and it immediately made me think of Rooster. Songs: Is This Love by White Snake, Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli.

A/N: the wonderful and brilliant @writercole helped with ideas, summary, and title and helped make the muses comply. 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Master Lists: Top Gun: Maverick // All The Fandoms

Fries, Goodbyes & The Rest Of Our Lives

It’s been a week. It’s not even worth listing all the things that went wrong. The icing on the cake (presumably made with salt and not sugar - cause it's that kind of week) was your date canceled on you as you took a seat at a booth in the diner.

You sigh as the waitress comes to take your order, accepting that you’ve been stood up and decide you may as well eat since you’re already there.

“I’ll take a cheeseburger, side salad, no tomato, extra dressing, please.” 

The elderly waitress smiles. It’s comforting and sweet. Her name tag says Pattie, and you imagine her grandkids get overly excited whenever Granny Pat visits. “You want the fries with that?”

You ponder for half a second before declining, “No thanks.”

“You sure, hun? They’re included in the price.”

You had dirty Cajun fries from the food cart outside the office at lunch. You know the diner’s fries won’t taste as good, besides you want to leave room for dessert, so you politely decline again. 

“I’ll take them, Pattie!”

You twist in the booth to look over your shoulder and find the source. A handsome guy sitting at the bar, wearing a light yellow floral print shirt, smiles and gives a two-fingered wave. You’d clocked him when you’d entered. You’d caught his eye too, and he’d given you a broad smile. His mustache was a flashback to a decade or two ago, but he wore it well. He carried it with a sense of pride and confidence. It looked good on him. Anyone else, you’d have thought it was creepy.

“Hush now, boy,” Pattie scolds, but she’s smiling when she turns back to face you.

You chuckle, nodding toward him, “He’ll take the fries.”

Pattie takes your menu and disappears to the kitchen. You look at Mr. Mustache, who tips his beer bottle to you before bringing it to his lips.

You grab your phone and message the “No Scrubs” group. 

You: Stood up again. Where you guys at?

Cole: At that navy bar I was telling you about. Come meet us.

You: I’ve just ordered dinner. Will see how I feel after.

You scroll social media while you wait. Pattie comes by a few times, brings cutlery and sauces, and refreshes your drink. 

You hear the bell ring to signal an order’s ready, and your mouth waters when you see Pattie heading toward you. The burger looks delicious. The brioche bun glistens under the lights as the cheese melts over the edge onto the plate. It's so tall there’s a wooden skewer through the top to keep it in place, and the fries are fat and look perfectly crispy.  

Pattie sets the plate down, “Enjoy, sweetheart,” and you swallow before drool slips out.

Just as you pull the skewer out of the burger, you hear, “Those are mine, remember.”

You laugh, twisting to look at him again. He’s got a cheerful smirk, but his brow is raised as if challenging you. “Why don’t you join me?” you offer. 

He grabs his beer and twists off his stool. The smile remains while he saunters over, and you can’t take your eyes off him, admiring the sway of his hips. He’s confident in an almost bashful way. The open floral shirt shows a white shirt beneath it, and the contrast against his tanned skin looks as edible as your burger. 

“Tell me,” he says, grabbing a fry and biting off the end. “What kind of psychopath doesn’t have fries with their burger?”

You shrug, “The same kind that offers to take a stranger's fries.”

“Touché,” he chuckles. 

You laugh, explaining, “I had fries at lunch and want dessert.”

 He nods as if now understanding your logic. “Ah, she’s got a sweet tooth.” 

“I’ve heard that the chocolate malt here is the best in the state. I can’t pass that up,” you grin.

“Well, that is true,” he shrugs, popping another fry into his mouth. “Make or break question here, whipped cream on top of the shake?”

“I fear this will affect our budding friendship,” you tease, “but ab-so-lutely whipped cream on top of the shake. Among other places,” you wink. 

His boldness flounders for half a second, recognizing he’s met his match, but he recovers quickly. Wetting his lips and giving a cheeky smile. “Are you flirting with me?” 

“Depends.” 

“On what?”

“I don’t see a ring, and you’re here alone. Are you single?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I’m definitely flirting with you.”

His smile widens and remains while the conversation flows and the two of you eat. Flirtations and laughter pass back and forth effortlessly.

Your phone chimes with another message, and you see the ‘No Scrubs’ group chat has two unread messages. You don’t want to be rude and pick it up to reply, but you know if you don’t, they’ll likely call to make sure you’re okay. 

“Somewhere else you need to be?” he asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice that he attempts to hide behind a sip of beer.

“No, just some friends trying to get me to go meet them at some Navy bar.” You roll your eyes and type a quick ‘maybe’ before locking your phone, setting it face down on the table.

“Navy bar? The Hard Deck?” he questions, tilting his head to the side.

“I think that’s what Cole said. Do you know it?”

“That’s actually where I’m headed after. I could give you a ride. If you need one, that is.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Bradley, but my friends call me Rooster.”

“Rooster?” you laugh. “Please tell me there’s a good story there.”

“There might be. I guess that depends on if you want to hear it.”

“How about you tell me on the way to the bar?”

The open window lifts your hair slightly, and every time Rooster gets a hit of your perfume, he inhales deeply, savoring it. 

He sticks to the speed limit, if not a little below it. He’s not quite ready to say goodbye to you. He’s never had such an instant, effortless connection with someone, and he wants to make it last as long as possible.

You’d laughed at the story about his name. You’d have never guessed that it was a nickname his uncle gave him when he was a kid. The radio is playing at a low volume, but as soon as the opening bars of Is This Love by White Snake start, you lean over and crank the volume as loud as it will go, singing along as if he isn’t there.

“Is this love that I'm feeling?” you sing, holding a pretend microphone. “Is this the love that I've been searching for? Is this love, or am I dreaming? This must be love. 'Cause, it's really got a hold on me. A hold on me.” 

You can’t hold a tune, and your voice cracks a few times, but still, you belt it out with vigor, and Rooster thinks he may be falling in love. Did Pattie put something in those fries? 

“Sorry,” you say, settling back into your seat, “that’s one of my favorites.” 

It’s one of my favorites now too. But he doesn’t say it. Instead, he laughs, “I never would’ve guessed.”

“Are you not a car karaoke kinda guy?” you ask. “You seem like you like to sing along.” 

“I’ve been known to hold a few car concerts,” he admits, “but I didn’t want to interrupt your flow.” 

“Can you sing as good as me?”

He looks at you and sees the jesting expression. You know you can’t sing, and you don’t care one little bit.

“I’d love to serenade you,” he says, “but unfortunately, we’re here.”

“Some other time?” you ask, and he swears you sound hopeful.

Rooster opens the Hard Deck door, and as soon as he hears the hustle and bustle from inside, he wishes he’d suggested you stay at the diner. Holding the door open, he gestures for you to enter first, and you smile a thanks as you pass by.

You stop a few feet inside, scanning the room as he stands beside you. This is the one time he hopes Hangman is being himself and has, by some miracle, coaxed your friends over to the group so Rooster has an excuse to keep talking to you. 

“Those are my friends over there,” you say, dashing all his hopes as you point to the pool tables on the opposite side of the room. 

“I’m over there,” Rooster says, pointing to where the Dagger squad is assembled. 

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Thanks for the fries.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Enjoy the rest of your night.” 

“You too.” 

There’s a pause, neither of you knowing what to do. You rise to the tips of your toes, and he dips to let you place a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

His cheeks quickly flush, hearing the jeers, shouts, and wolf whistles, but you drop back down with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he says. “They’re a bunch of idiots.”

He scolds himself for being an idiot as you walk away. He should invite you over or ask for your number, but he’s suddenly tongue-tied. He stares at you, frozen to the spot, long enough to see your friends turn to look at him as you settle into your seat.

Throughout the night, flirtatious glances are passed back and forth, and smiles exchanged when they linger. Of course, it’s Hangman who notices the consequence of Rooster’s error. 

“Looks like you lose again, Rooster,” the blond pilot remarks, a way too smug grin showing off his perfectly white teeth. “Too snug on that perch, and Harvard is gonna take your lady right out from under your beak.”

Rooster doesn’t care if it proves Hangman’s point. He looks directly at you. Harvard is whispering in your ear. You're smiling, but Rooster thinks it's more of a polite, courteous smile than genuine interest. 

But it’s the kick he needs to take action. He looks to Phoenix, Bob, and Mickey, almost pleading, “I need your help.” 

Phoenix nods once, Bob smiles, and Mickey asks, “What?”

“He wants to do the Goose move,” Phoenix explains without Bradley needing to tell her any more. 

“What’s the Goose move?”

“It’s the move his Dad did to get his Mom,” Bob says. 

“I don’t know what that is,” Mickey shrugs. 

“Technically, we've been doing it for years,” Rooster says, “it’s just that this time, it involves my future wife.”

“So, no pressure,” Bob gulps. 

“Relax. I’ve got a plan,” Phoenix winks, gesturing for the three guys to come closer.

Harvard doesn’t seem all that smart, and you wonder if it's an ironic nickname or callsign, as Rooster had explained. Harvard certainly doesn’t understand body language. You’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to put some distance between you three times. The third time he slides his arm around your shoulders. 

Before you can shrug, his arm slips off, and suddenly, a pretty brunette woman is in his place. “Hi,” she says brightly, her back to a flustered-looking Harvard. “I’m Phoenix, and this is Fanboy. We’re friends with Rooster.” 

Butterflies dance in your stomach. Before she can say anymore or you have a chance to wonder why he’s sent his friends to rescue you, the jukebox cuts off, and a collective groan echoes around the room. 

“That was supposed to happen,” Phoenix smiles. Fanboy is speaking quietly to Harvard, and he doesn’t seem happy about whatever is being said, but you're grateful for the interruption. 

There’s a soft twinkling from a piano somewhere in the room, and after a few more notes, you find the source. Phoenix continues, “That’s Bob, and you’ve met Rooster.” 

Your eyes drift up from the piano player and land on Bradley, fingers tapping the wooden top, while Bob continues to find the right melody.

Rooster’s eyes are locked on you, a shy smirk lifting the corner of his mustache. 

“Thanks for the save,” you say to Phoenix but keep your eyes on Rooster. 

“Well, it wasn’t the actual intention, but Harvard can be a bit…” she trails off.

“Thick?” 

“That’s a good word for him,” she laughs.

The bright random notes turn into a clear, rich melody that flows through the room moments before the smooth baritone of Rooster’s voice fills the air. “You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

Damn, he can sing! 

Taking the lyrics literally, he doesn’t avert his eyes while he serenades you. You feel Phoenix’s hand at your elbow, but you can’t look away from the gorgeous man belting out a song just for you. Only when he draws closer do you realize she’s guiding you to him. 

The bar is packed, and the crowd gathers around the piano, but somehow Rooster is always in your line of sight, and then Fanboy is in front of you, splitting the crowd to let you through. 

It feels surreal but magical when somehow there’s a clear path straight to Rooster. It looks like an aisle leading to an altar, and the man that awaits you has been sent from the heavens because he’s gorgeous, kind, funny, and clearly has a talent for commanding a room. You wonder what else you could uncover, given some time.

“At long last, love has arrived,” Rooster sings as you reach his side. Phoenix slips away as you reach for Bradley’s outstretched hand. 

Definitely an altar, and you’ll happily worship here for eternity. Interlocking your fingers with his, he pulls you against him. “Now that I found you, stay,” it’s more than a song, it's a question, and you nod. 

Slowly, he inches closer, and the crowd takes over, singing the chorus, when his lips connect with yours and the world melts away. 

Tag List Info

Take To The Skies: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @atarmychick007

Master Lists: Top Gun: Maverick // All The Fandoms